Cassiopeia watched the sorting hat ceremony with unusual attention, her eyes searching the faces of each of the new students, trying to find the one she was looking for. Potter was there, next to what she was sure was the youngest of the Weasley sons, and with a little surprise so was her cousin Draco, all grown up and looking particularly smug. He was even shooting glares at the Potter boy, with two little henchmen on either side of him.

'Making Lucius proud' she thought wryly, continuing her search. She wouldn't have recognised him, not from her distant memory of his parents, Aurors who had been in the order.

"Longbottom, Neville." Professor McGonagall called out crisply.

Her face grew heated and she shrank lower in her seat, hoping to remain delightfully anonymous in the crowd, and yet certain everyone was staring at her.

She knew at least one person was, at the head table, Professor Snape was trying to catch her eye, to offer her some wordless advice or encouragement. Or perhaps he wanted to make sure she knew exactly who that boy was. He was always so hard to place, her head of house.

Though many people knew who her parents were, very few knew the exact crime that sent them to prison. They had tortured and murdered many people in their time, most never took the time to learn the name of their final victims.

They didn't murder them though, they were stopped from performing that small mercy by the Aurors that had found them. She watched in sick fascination as a small child who had clearly still had baby fat to lose stumbled up to the hat.

His parents had been nice, though she didn't think she actually ever had a conversation with them. They had been brave. But they weren't quite strong enough to fight off the Lestranges and Crouch jr.

Gryffindor. She clapped absentmindedly, thinking back on the Longbottoms. They would have been proud she decided.

Her cousin followed shortly after, the hat shouting Slytherin before it had even properly touched his head.

Harry Potter wasn't far behind.

The whole school was silent, watching and waiting to see which house would have the honour of having a celebrity to join their ranks. The silence somehow grew louder and more tense as time passed. A hatstall, he was going to be a bloody hatstall.

Finally, the brim opened wide and shouted, "Gryffindor!"

The scarlet table erupted in cheers, and she smiled slightly when she heard the Weasley twins chanting happily. Good for him.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, ending when the final Weasley boy was predictably sorted into Gryffindor as well.

It took about a week for the novelty of Harry Potter being at Hogwarts to wear off and school finally started to go back to normal.

There was a brief flare up when he had somehow managed to join the quidditch team as a first year, something the whole school was abuzz about.

Cassiopeia cared little for Potter's exploits, and took to avoiding the common room for her cousin would often complain rather loudly and publicly about the boy.

Her weekly lessons with Professor Snape had reached new levels of difficulty as he forced her to revise her potions work, often times by brewing complicated potions, while withstanding random attacks on her mind from him. Their lessons had started as a way to handle her nightmares, but both parties were stubbornly trying to gain the upper hand, with Professor Snape wanting to exploit his students weaknesses, and Cassiopeia wanting to prove the disdainful man wrong. She left every lesson with a pounding headache and Professor Snape left with the satisfaction that he had, eventually, broken into his students mind. Of course it was growing more and more difficult as time passed, but he was still succeeding and therefore winning in their little competition.

The most disappointing thing of her seventh year however was Professor Quirrell. She had been so excited to be in his classes again, and he was teaching one of her favourite subjects. And yet, he completely ignored her. Nearly jumped out of his skin everytime she even approached him, and he always found a hasty excuse to be anywhere else whenever she tried to schedule a meeting with him.

She gave up after the fourth time he ran away from her, trying not to feel hurt. His sabbatical must have been traumatising for the man to have changed so much. She had been hoping she could get his opinion and perspective on her research project, especially since he had been the person to introduce her to the topic and the field.

Feeling particularly hurt from his snub she sequestered herself in her research room, an abandoned classroom Professor Flitwick had procured for her, and focussed on the bracelet.

She had cast the spell to reveal its diagram on the bracelet long ago, and when she was feeling particularly upset or stuck on another subject she liked to take it out and try to tease out a solution. She barely understood it. Whoever had taught her mother how to craft spells had a technique that she had never seen before, and it wasn't something she felt comfortable approaching anyone else about for advice.

But as it stood, until she could understand the technique behind the curse, she was stuck with the bracelet and its unfortunate connection. It wasn't until Halloween that she had a breakthrough in her research into the bracelet.

She had decided to skip the feast, preferring the quiet of her work to the boisterous atmosphere of the great hall. She also preferred to be far away from any and all pranks that the students would try to pull on the holiday.

Her breakthrough however made her feel incredibly thick. It was rather obvious and she didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before. It was french. Of course it was bloody French, the Blacks family motto was French. The Lestranges were from France. She felt so stupid, all that time she had wasted looking for the origin, completely blind to what now seemed like the most obvious thing in the world.

Of course knowing the origin of the spellwork was French didn't immediately help in her mission to break the spell, mainly because she knew nothing about the French language and their methods of magic making. But it meant she could start researching in the library, hopefully coming across something useful.

For now, she scribbled the diagram down on several pieces of parchment, breaking it into different parts that she thought formed the whole, giving her bite sized pieces to puzzle through. Her head full and her eyes heavy she finally decided to call it a night, packing up her items and making the long journey to her common room.

She distantly heard the unmistakable scuffle of someone moving very quickly and trying to be quiet about it. She slowed, tucking away behind a suit of armour, waiting for whatever student that was no doubt up to no good to pass without drawing attention to herself. Halloween was always ripe with student pranks and she wanted nothing to do with it.

To her surprise it was Professor Quirrell who passed her, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he hurried throughout the corridors. It was odd, but then he was an odd man. She had just started to make a move when another shape materialised.

It was Professor Snape, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, looking particularly surly and suspicious. Quirrell had been so focused on whatever it was that he was doing that he walked right past her. She was not so lucky with Professor Snape who glared angrily at her.

"What are you doing here? Why are you not in the great hall?" his voice was particularly sharp as he growled at her, his eyes scanning the corridor.

"I was studying sir, on my project." She said slowly, trying to understand what was happening.

"Go back to your workroom at once and do not leave until I come back. There is a troll loose in the castle, last spotted in the dungeons. I will escort you once it is contained."

She did a double take, thinking she had misheard him at first. A troll? Where did the troll even come from? How had it managed to get into Hogwarts? In the dungeons of all places!

"Is that why Professor Quirrell was in such a rush?"

Snape did look at her then, very closely. She felt him prodding her mind and reinforced her mental walls instinctively. His nostrils flared in frustration, and he bared his teeth slightly.

"Yes. Where did he go? No doubt he will need assistance." His voice was dangerously soft, a tone she knew he reserved for only the most serious of matters.

She told him what she had seen and he nodded, once again reminding her to go to her workroom and wait for him.

With no other choice she obeyed, reclining in one of the chairs and staring aimlessly at a chalkboard she had covered in symbols for her project, her mind trying to puzzle out her strange head of school. He had been unusually severe, but then she figured facing a fully grown mountain troll would do that to a person.

She passed the time wondering how she would fight a mountain troll, if she had to, thinking up various spell combinations that she reckoned would work.

She had just started contemplating the likelihood that Snape had completely forgotten about her and was weighing the pros and cons of just going back herself when she heard him enter.

He looked rough, his face unusually pale and looking especially livid.

"I didn't do it, whatever it is. I did exactly as you said sir." she said immediately, raising her hands up defensively, glad she had decided to stay put.

He glared darkly at her, "if only Potter would follow directions." he muttered lowly, jerking his head in command for her to follow him.

"Potter sir?" she asked curiously, gathering up her book bag and walking with her professor.

"Merlin, are you alright sir? What did you do?" She frowned in concern as the he walked slowly, limping heavily.

He tossed his hair in irritation, scowling angrily, covering his leg with his robes, "I do believe that it is none of your business." he seethed angrily, picking up the pace despite his limp.

They walked in silence for a bit, Cassiopeia trying to reign in her curiosity in the face of the Potions Master's ill temper.

"Did you find the troll in the end sir?" she asked cautiously.

He scoffed, his scowl darkening, "Potter did. He and his friends decided to go troll hunting themselves despite clear directions to return to the common room. Unfortunately no one was harmed or expelled for their actions." He sounded disgusted.

"You mean fortunately sir, correct?" she asked tentatively. The sideways glance he threw her was answer enough.

"They in fact gained house points." he growled, his pace increasing even more in his anger and irritation.

"Merlin, you would've expelled me immediately." she breathed, thinking through the punishments she would've face as a first year in a similar circumstance. "McGonagall must be getting soft."

"Professor McGonagall." Snape hissed, correcting her immediately without thought.

"And quite."

Cassiopeia's mind was still reeling with the new information as they reached the common room. "I guess sir, you'll have to correct that imbalance in your classroom." she smirked at him slightly, knowing Snape would be particularly vicious to Potter after this stunt. She almost felt bad for him, but what sort of idiot goes after a mountain troll?

Snape remained silent, looking pointedly at the Slytherin entrance. She nodded her thanks, noticing the small smirk quirking at the side of his mouth as he no doubt thought of all the punishments he could reap on the boy in class.

She sat in a corner of the common room for a little while, taking in the gossip of her housemates as she pieced together the eventful evening.

Harry Potter's presence at Hogwarts came with more than a few curious events, and where others found this an exciting break from the monotony of classes, she found it worrying.

Harry Potter was bringing change, she didn't know how or why, and she wasn't even certain it was intentional, but it made her very uneasy.

It was only later when she realised Snape had been on the third floor, chasing a troll that was supposedly in the dungeons.

Xxx

The seventh year course load was overwhelming for all the students and to help accommodate the students there were a few study hall sessions built into their schedules. Normally these classes were supervised by a professor who would offer their advice and help for students in need, and other times a few students who were excelling volunteered to help their fellow classmates.

The current study hall session was supposed to be supervised by Professor Sprout, but she had been called away to attend to some urgent business regarding one of her students, leaving the students to their own devices.

"I expect you all to work together and support each other in your studies, and I will see some of you later this afternoon in my class! Happy studying." the woman said before leaving the seventh years to supervise themselves.

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. It was a hopelessly optimistic sentiment that was proven wrong almost immediately when most of the class left early. She pulled out the diagrams of her mother's bracelet, taking a much needed break from her ancient runes revision.

She was trying to concentrate on her work but her train of thought was interrupted by the quiet sniffling of a student a few desks away from her. It was Constance Green. She was hunched over her desk, her nose nearly touching her parchment seemingly intent on her work. Her quiet shaking and muffled sniffles were the only indication that the Hufflepuff girl was distressed.

The cause of her discomfort was two figures sitting in the desk beside her, Arlene Roberts and Matilda Cook, Slytherin students who were whispering horrible things to her, teasing her about her weight, her heritage, and the very large pimple that had the unfortunate placement at the tip of her nose.

As if her sniffling wasn't enough, even more annoying was the cackling laughter emitting from the two girls. It had been years since that laugh had been directed at her and she found time did it no favours. It was still as annoying today as it had been back in her fifth year. It was driving her insane.

"Are you bloody kidding me? Some of us are trying to study here. I suggest you two harpies shut it or jog on." she growled, barely looking up from her spell diagram.

The laughing was cut short as the two girls turned their attention to Cassiopeia. "And what's it to you Deranged Lestrange? Not that it's any of your business but we were just having a nice little chat with Green here and her large friend at the end of her nose. Isn't that right Matilda?"

"Really Arlene? Could you be more cliche? it's been two years since that name was made up. Is that really the best you can do?" she sighed, rolling her eyes and flipping the page to look at another part of her diagram.

Arlene flushed slightly, unused to a victim talking back to her, "well if you shoe fits…" she started, trailing off as she struggled to find a comeback.

She shrugged, "And if I am so deranged, surely you would think twice about crossing me." she said lowly, still eyeing over her work.

The girls grew quiet, even Constance turned in her seat to look at Cassiopeia fully, the Lestrange girl lounging casually at her desk, her wand resting on the table.

"Are- Are you threatening us?" Matilda Cook asked, suddenly sounding very nervous.

Cassiopeia finally looked up at them, her eyebrows furrowed in irritation, "Of course I am not threatening you. I am merely making an observation you dimwitted harpies."

"How- you think you're so smart and tough, with your whole-whatever this is" Arlene gestured vaguely at Cassiopeia, standing up to face her fully. "Just because you've got Snape and Flitwick on your side doesn't mean you're better than us. Because Lestrange, at the end of the day you are still you, an unhinged blood traitor." Roberts sneered, grabbing her wand from her pocket, "And I reckon it's time someone finally taught you a lesson."

Cassiopeia sighed deeply once more, watching Matilda Cook grab her wand and make a stand with her friend. Constance watched the confrontation nervously, her eyes wide as she followed the fight.

"Look, believe what you want, I dont give a threstral's shit what you think or how you use your limited brain power. I am trying to do some work, in my allotted study time, and you are an annoying distraction, like a fly that just needs to be swatted. So either shut your bloody mouth and focus on your own work, leaving Green alone so I can bloody concentrate, or you get out of the study hall and go find some first year to terrorise before you do something you regret" Cassiopeia never raised her voice as she spoke evenly, watching the girls carefully.

Cassiopeia was a little embarrassed to say that Roberts did surprise her, despite her careful observation of the witch. She waved her wand quickly causing the papers she was studying fly from under her hand and into Roberts. Arlene examined them, her face scrunch up in a sneer, looking like she was smelling something particularly rotten.

"Say Matilda, do these papers look important to you?"

"Yeah I reckon they look hard to replace." Her friend answered.

Constance's mouth dropped open in horror as she took in the scene, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. She should know, it happened to her all the time.

Cassiopeia was a little slow on the uptake, having grown complacent in the years since anyone was brave enough to attack her publicly.

"Give. me. back. my work." she hissed, grabbing her wand fully, her eyes blazing in anger and her voice deathly serious as she moved to her feet to face the girls fully. It was a voice that chilled all occupants of the room.

"Oh this? No problem" she flicked her wand, igniting weeks of notes in an instant, refusing to be cowed by the girl she despised. "Oops."

"Cassie no!" Constance cried helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of her as Cassiopeia struck lightning fast at the two girls across from her.

Cassiopeia was mildly impressed that both Cook and Roberts were able to deflect her first spell, albeit narrowly. She was also mildly taken aback by the ferocity Roberts fought with, her spells exceedingly accurate, moderately powerful, with very subtle tells. She clearly had been paying attention in her classes. Cassiopeia went on the defensive for a moment, easily holding back their attacks long enough for her to get a really good look at her two opponents.

She looked forward, not focussing on any particular thing, but a multitude of tells. Matilda Cook was the less proficient of the two girls, every spell clearly telegraphed, her wand movements exaggerated. Arlene was a little more difficult, her form was better, her moves better concealed, but her arsenal was predictable. And both were tense, too tense to react quickly.

The two girls, moderately competent 7th year student they were, never really threatened Cassiopeia. She retaliated mercilessly, her attacks forcing her opponents to take a defensive line as they fell onto their back foot. They were good, but Cassiopeia had been trained for duelling from a young age, she was exceptional.

It wouldn't have been difficult to subdue the two girls, and she would have done it in short order if they hadn't been interrupted. As it was, Professor Quirrell had heard the commotion and immediately immobilized all three girls, his face pale and his wand shaking, stopping the fight cold in its tracks.

"G-good heavens" he wheezed, looking as if he was on the verge of cardiac arrest, "What is h-h-happening here? Explain yourselves." he demanded, his meek voice somewhat undermining his words.

"They started it sir. Cook and Roberts. Cassiopeia was just defending herself and helping me." Constance said immediately.

Professor Quirrell looked faint as he tried to figure out what to do. "F-f-fighting is not allowed at Hogwarts. T-ten points from each of you." His hands were still shaking and his eyes were a little too wide as he released the spell.

The girls glared at each other, Roberts and Cook adjusting their hair as Cassiopeia brushed some dust off their robes. "A-And err detention. Y-yes detention. You two with Professor Snape, and M-m-miss Tonks with me."

"But sir, Lestrange started it! She's unhinged she is. Downright dangerous! We were just protecting ourselves." Arlene Roberts exclaimed, putting on her best innocent face.

Quirrell wasn't buying it, or he was too afraid to deal with the matter further. "O-o-off with you. N-now." he tried to be stern, his stutter undermining him once more.

Cassiopeia growled as she took in the ashes that represented several weeks of work on the bloody bracelet, using a few mental exercises to control the rising tide of her anger. Weeks of time wasted, that had been her only copy. It was all she had eyes for, her head pounding with barely contained rage.

Deep breaths she thought, counting in and out slowly to remain in control.

She was shocked out of her mental exercises by Constance, the girl she had not spoken to since her third year, touching her shoulder gently. "Thanks." she said, her voice soft.

Cassiopeia nodded jerkily, barely able to give her a small smile before she started to gather up her books. Roberts and Cook stormed out of the room to complain to someone more sympathetic, not that Cassiopeia cared much about them.

"Don't let those knobheads get to you Constance. You're better than them." she looked at her former friend finally, pushing the anger away in a room in her mind palace for her to deal with later.

Constance frowned, "it's not so easy for everyone Cass. You're just so…" she gestured vaguely to Cassiopeia, "and i'm just…" she gestured helplessly to herself.

"You're just a clever and capable witch, who should know better than to listen to shallow berks like them."

Constance shrugged, unable to say something.

"Look, good luck with that. I have weeks of work to try and replicate." Cassiopeia sighed, feeling the anger clawing in the back of her head as she looked down once more in the pile of ashes, "I'll see you around Green."

The two girls left the room, going their separate ways, both wondering how their once close friendship had changed over the years.

Professor Quirrell entered the now empty classroom, all traces of his earlier nervousness gone as he surveyed the scene. Lestrange the girl had said. He had never given it any thought, though now that she mentioned it, he did remember hearing whispers about deranged Lestrange in his classroom. He knelt to examine the pile of ashes still on the floor the classroom, the presumed catalyst of the fight.

He had seen nearly the whole confrontation, and witnessed enough of the duel to be impressed by the Lestrange girl. She was fast and efficient, and adapted quickly to a changing situations, easily gaining an upper hand in a fight where she was clearly outnumbered and disadvantaged. He only stepped in reluctantly when he did because he was worried the girl would get herself into too much trouble injuring two fellow students.

He muttered under his breath, his hand steady as he waved a complicated pattern over the pile, his eyes sharp and focussed on his work. The ashes lightened and grew in size into pieces of shredded parchment. The pieces rose into the air in a swirling mess and began re-assembling themselves. Before long he had a few whole parchments with details of a very interesting spell diagram on it.

He didn't recognise it, but the voice whispering in his ear was extremely interested. He put the parchments into his pocket, leaving the classroom and assuming his persona once more, his mind whirring with the new information.

Xxx

Cassiopeia showed up to her detention, her head pounding from her earlier occlumency lesson with Professor Snape compounded by the irritation that she even had to serve detention and lamenting her lost notes.

Professor Quirrell barely jumped in surprise when she entered his classroom, throwing her bag down on a ground beside a desk before slumping into it. At least Quirrell had the good sense to separate her from Cook and Roberts. Serving detention with them would have been truly awful.

The Professor gave her a nervous smile, his eye twitching slightly as he examined her from the other side of his desk. Cassiopeia reckoned he was mentally building the courage to address her and wondered if he was suddenly regretting giving her detention in the first place.

"L-lines today Miss Tonks." He said simply, waving his wand at the chalkboard.

Fighting is not allowed at Hogwarts

Brilliant. She hating writing lines, finding it an unbearable waste of time. She cursed the person who invented this as a form of punishment.

It was the longest hour of her life, she was certain. Her hand ached, her headache never really abated, and she stewed in her anger and resentment towards her housemates.

She was relieved when Professor Quirrell informed her that she had written enough, accepting her lines and tucking them away. Wishing for a hasty retreat she was surprised when Quirrell address her once more.

She paused, her impatience to leave battling with her curiosity. Professor Quirrell had ignored her for the whole of the first term so far. He'd gone months dodging her requests, and now here he was, digging through his desk, his hands shaking and looking a little paler than usual.

"A-Ah. I b-believe these b-belong to you." he said, giving her a small pile of parchments.

No. Bloody. Way.

She couldn't believe it, it was her notes, the ones she thought Arlene had destroyed forever. And yet, here they were, in her professor's hands.

"Thank you sir!" she gushed, holding them carefully and looking them over for any missing details.

He hummed, giving her a small, nervous smile, "C-curious diagram. I-is it yours?" He asked casually, his eye twitching slightly

"Oh, er no. It's a curse that I er read about in a book. I'm trying to break it actually. As a personal challenge and learning exercise of course." She said, suddenly nervous. She had never really shared the schematics of her cursed bracelet before, mainly because most people would not be able to help her even if they wanted to. Professor Quirrell was one of the few exceptions in the school, he was a well read man, of course he would recognise the diagram for what it was.

He hummed, "May I?" he held his hand out for the papers, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

She handed them back over, her stomach twisting, uncertain how Quirrell would react.

He ran his wand over the parchments, he spread them out, trying to figure out how she had broken down the larger image into smaller sections. With a sharp flick of his wrist the diagrams lifted off the pages and hung in the air, enlarged, between them, the pieces forming a whole. He stood from his desk, finally able to see the spell in its entirety and examined them closely.

"Not a curse." he said simply, he was rubbing his fingers against each other as he thought, a nervous tick.

"What?" Now it was her turn to be confused. Of course it was a curse, she couldn't take the bracelet off and it was devised by someone who specialised in curses.

"It's not a curse. Not totally. The structure is wrong. It's certainly d-dark magic" he looked faint as he thought about it, "but it looks more like a tracking charm than anything. And yet, it seems more. C-curious." He moved closer to the diagram, looking at the small details, "It's rather elegant work, French you know?" he looked at her for confirmation.

Mulling over the conundrum brought a change over Quirrell, he stilled considerably, with most of his nervous ticks melting away. Talking over the academic problem in front of him seemed to center him, calm him, even his stutter disappeared and his eyes sharpened as he looked at her.

He was almost back to the way she remembered him, highly intelligent and deeply curious, but somehow he seemed more. He had changed on his travels, she thought only for the worse, but now she saw he had also grown with the experience, in a strange, stilted way.

"I thought as much, but i've been having trouble finding parallels to these runes. And these symbols here, I understand their purpose based on context clues, but their meaning is foreign to me."

"They look familiar to me. I think I may have seen them while examining another spell in Paris. Let me check my field notes and i'll get back to you. For now, do you mind if I take a copy of this? It is an interesting problem, and if you wouldnt mind the help?"

"Not at all sir! Any light you can shed would be brilliant. This is more of a hobby of mine so I rarely get to work on it outside of my limited spare time. Obviously my independent study takes priority, but any help would be welcome." She gushed, relieved to finally reconnect with her favourite professor over a subject he introduced her to all those years ago.

He transferred the floating diagram to a chalkboard he kept spare in the classroom, still eyeing it critically, looking for hidden meanings. "Perhaps you can c-come by for tea Miss Tonks, and we can discuss this work." His eye was twitching again.

She nodded, eager to continue learning from the Professor. It was what she hoped would happened when she heard he was coming back. Professor Flitwick was a knowledgeable and brilliant supervisor, but Professor Quirrell was intellectually curious to the point of knowing a fair amount of what would be considered dark magic. He also understood that an interest in dark magic was very different from practicing dark magic. She felt there were topics she could discuss with Quirrell that she'd never be able to bring up with Flitwick, this spell diagram being one of them.

"W-well Miss Tonks, if that's a-all…" his stutter returned as he turned to his student, indicating the late hour.

"Of course, thanks again Professor, i'll call in when i've got some free time." she excused herself, pleased with how her detention had turned out, the pounding in her head now no more than a minor annoyance.

Her relationship with Quirrell changed to resemble something more to how they were in the early days. She would drop by at least once, if not twice, a week to his office for a chat and a cuppa, each meeting lasting at least an hour and sometimes stretching across several. She was pleased to see that he was relaxed during these sessions, feeling comfortable and safe enough for his stutter to ease to being almost non existent and his shaking to still.

That wasn't to say that he was the same professor from all those years ago. Something, or several somethings she suspected, had scarred the man during his grand tour of the world. More than a few times she caught him muttering to himself under his breath when he thought no one was around. He also stared at her during his classes when everyone was focussed on their assignments, he would sit behind his desk and watch her closely, his eyes unusually sharp. It had only happened a few times but it made her feel uneasy. She dismissed her feelings as ridiculous thought, Professor Quirrell had always helped her, and sure he was strange, but that wasn't a good reason to spurn his help.

Professor Snape however found their relationship curious. "Has Professor Quirrell done anything peculiar or strange around you?" he questioned her suddenly during one of their occlumency lessons.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "He is a strange bloke, everything he does in peculiar. Besides why do you care?"

Snape narrowed his eyes, "You are keeping your barriers up during the day correct? Not just in my lessons."

"Of course, for practice mainly. And to keep stray thoughts at bay. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." he said simply, daring her to continue.

"Look I know you don't like him, and whatever you feel about him, don't put that on me. He has been helping me a lot, always has, I mean he even lent me a book on French runes just last week."

"And why would you be interested in French runes?" Snape drawled, raising his eyebrows.

"Why not?" she countered, evading the question.

In truth she wondered if Professor Quirrell had read the book in its entirety. And if he did, then it was very curious that he would lend her such a book. It had a lot of useful information about French runes sure, but it also was filled with dark magic and graphic depictions of curses. It was the sort of book she reckoned her mother would enjoy, a manual for violence, complete with theoretical breakdowns of how and why every curse worked the way they did.

It was an interesting and challenging read, given it was in French, but she was puzzled about why he had given it to her in the first place. It was a text that was definitely banned from the school. Did Quirrell trust her enough to not use any of the information contained in that book offensively? And just what sort of things did he really know if that was the sort of the book he peruses? He was a curious man.

He never brought up the contents of the book and she never felt comfortable enough to mention the violence depicted in it. She read it for the information she needed, and perhaps spent a little more time than she would care to admit on some of the darker pages, before returning it to her strange Professor.

The holidays came and went, Cassiopeia going home to continue to set up her new flat and to spend the holidays with the Tonks', who were eager to hear how she was getting on in school and with her new place. They didn't know where she was staying and she preferred to keep it that way, just to maintain her independence and to negate any unwanted visits.

It also gave her a chance to catch up with her adopted sister who still remained living at the house in her childhood bedroom as she went through the rigorous auror training programme. It was a three year study, and Dora was one of just two successful applicants. They had apparently just started learning practical concealment and were finally doing simulated fieldwork.

Dora however had no interest in conversing or catching up with Cassiopeia, remaining barely civil enough for her parents, and toeing the line of rudeness. She seemed quite pleased when Cassiopeia announced that she would not be staying overnight and would instead go to her own flat. Ted and Andromeda protested weakly, informing her that her room was all made for her in case she changed her mind, but it was a lost cause.

The more the year progressed the more pressure she felt on producing useful results from her independent study. She had many interesting observations to write about in her final dissertation but nothing truly groundbreaking or immediately useful, despite a years worth of research. With Professor Flitwick's help she began outlining her results, and produced a few drafts of her early chapters. She even received help from Mr Spavin from St. Mungos, who proof read her drafts and offered useful critiques and comments.

She was ecstatic when she read his comments and his final missive. He had offered her the opportunity to come work with him in the hospital for a week over the Easter holiday if she wanted to. He explained that by completely random and unforeseeable circumstances that the hospital would have the RF spectacles that were so hotly debated during her review panel to be in the hospital at the time, and if she was interested, she could borrow them as a hospital intern to work on hospital related things. If she saw anything else that just so happened to be in the room that was relevant to her own work, well he couldn't control that. It was just a happy coincidence he said.

She eagerly accepted his offer, gushing about it to both Professors' Flitwick and Snape, who had wildly different reactions. Flitwick was excited for her, suggesting that she should think about applying to work for St Mungos for her apprenticeship after Hogwarts. Professor Snape was silent, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggested he could care less about her holiday plans.

So consumed by the preparations for the short internship, she barely had time to meet with Professor Quirrell once a week, not that the man minded much. The stress of the school year was taking its toll on the professor. He looked sickly and weak, though his mind was still sharp as ever. She did wonder if he was losing it a little bit, finding him talking to himself under his breath more and more as he worked.

She shrugged, he had always been a strange professor, and this was nothing more than another one of his nervous ticks.

A/N Hi Folks! Another chapter and the second to last of Part II. I was initially going to post this as one super giant chapter (just shy of 17 K words) but decided to break it into two normal sized chapters. The next one will be the last one, before I begin Part III, which I already have a considerable chunk written for. Thank you everyone who took the time to read this, thanks to the few of you who have reviewed, especially those of you who have been consistent. I do genuinely love them and actively look forward to reading them.

I might wait a short while to update the final chapter, as I want to start posting Part III fairly soonish upon finishing this one, and that requires some more writing. But I am in a groove of sorts and super inspired, just need to time to get the beginning kicked off. Hope you enjoy this one, and happy holidays!