C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl
Chapter VI: The failure of Mundungus Fletcher
The days that followed stretched on longer and longer with each one that passed. Following the same pathways and traipsing up and down the same staircases hour after hour had long since become tedious. The interesting and unusual trinkets and books that been uncovered were the only objects that could rouse her attention and kept her from Muggle-watching out of one of the large windows.
Most of her days were spent cleaning in the same fashion it had been for the last week. The rooms she and Ginny were assigned to take care of were easily done by the hands of Plum and Kitsy, who had begged to be allowed to aid after checking in one day to see her. They worked meticulously, eagerly cleaning up a decade of dirt with their magic, barely restraining themselves from tackling the rest of the house then and there each time they were summoned.
Neither Cassy nor Ginny had any qualms with this. They directed and watched, but mostly their attention switched to card games, chess, and talking. Mrs Weasley would praise them each time, marvelling at how well they worked. She even suggested they work with her to get the Drawing Room sorted; Cassy and Ginny ensured the rooms were left a little worse for wear each time from then on. Mrs Weasley would not support their relaxing at the hands of Cassy's very capable and enthusiastic house-elves.
It did not go amiss that Cassy received more post that anyone else. They were messages from Stephen, Astoria, Hermione, and Luna, the latter of whom knew that she was limited in her post, but wrote regardless. As infrequent as their post was, Stephen and Astoria were easily unsettled if she did not reply within a day or so. They were very similar people, Stephen more tactful by far and more careful with his enquiries, and both demanded to know what had tied her up. Stephen had been infinitely more understanding, asking after her health and well-being.
'You need to make sure you get outside and enjoy the Sun, it will make you feel much better', he would write, letting her know his desire for a response. He was filled with advice and quiet jabs that she needed to be more sociable to heal.
Astoria, on the other hand, seemed to be behaving as if Cassy had nothing to find a fault with. It was refreshing, hearing of other news instead of endless questions of her happiness, but the impatience came across in her letters quite abruptly. Even being in Slytherin for a number of years now could no curb Astoria's frankness that had pushed her to ask if Cassy knew where her father was hiding in their first proper conversation.
She received a letter over dinner one evening, reading:
Dear Cassy,
This silence is driving me mad. I can only imagine how others must feel. I listen to the Muggle news everyday, just in case something peculiar appears, disguised as a gas leak or a industrial incident. There is nothing. There is nothing anywhere, although I always read from cover to cover.
My parents are quite well, but they are concerned. I try to act casual, yet they can tell something is wrong. I would never wish to tell them though.
I hope you are keeping yourself well and I know I do not have to tell you to do all of your homework. Check in with Neville for me though. Remember last year how he forgot we had Transfiguration homework and he had to do it all on the first night? OWLs are coming up!
Hope you are well,
Hermione
'Cassy, dear, you really need to watch your post,' fussed Mrs Weasley.
'It is not that people send me that many letters each, I just happen to have more people writing to me,' defended Cassy, perfectly pleasantly.
'Yes, dear, but it creates a lot of owl traffic and people might start to notice,' she said, turning away from her to ensure the dishes were indeed washing themselves.
'A bit popular, are you?' asked Tonks cheerfully, flicking a counter across the table with another and missing the bucket in the centre entirely.
'Just because she makes weird friends,' voiced Ron, flicking his own counter.
'They are not weird, I do not understand why you are all so cold towards them,' responded Cassy lowly. As far as she was aware, they only knew of Stephen and a basic, completely false, assumption that Cassy and Shandy were on good terms. If any of them learnt she had spent much of her summer writing to a Slytherin, it would not be something brushed away easily.
They would probably assume she is a Death Eater trying to extract my location, thought Cassy.
'Harry says Stephen's dodgy,' said Ron casually, as if Harry's opinion settled the matter.
Cassy frowned and said, 'Harry has never even spoken to him and I have told him repeatedly otherwise. Besides, Harry is hardly the most sociable of people. He has a very frank analysis on the new people he meets.'
Ron shrugged, clearly not caring who it was she was sending letters to. He flicked his counter into the bucket, electing a cheer from around the table.
'Who's Stephen?' asked Sirius curiously.
'My friend from Ravenclaw,' she said.
'An older boy,' drawled Fred and George, their voices low and wide grins spreading across their faces.
Ignoring Sirius' eyebrows rising high on his forehead, Cassy focused back on the game just in time to see Tonks' finally get her counter in the pot. As another cheer sounded through the kitchen, the door suddenly opened. Cassy looked up immediately, noting that everyone who should have been in the house was all ready present, but she relaxed again when gold slippers popped into view and a long, sparkling robe slithered into view.
'Albus!' cheered Mr Weasley, standing to make room at the table for the Headmaster.
Professor Dumbledore looked around with bright eyes, smiling at each of them in turn. Cassy ducked her head just before he set his eyes on her. She had not yet forgotten the last time they spoke, the harsh words and angry demands she had made, all of her criticisms and her doubts. Surely, he had not either.
'It is good to see everyone in good spirits for a change. Dare I say the last few visits has seen bitterness and boredom,' commented Professor Dumbledore.
'Tea, Albus?' offered Mrs Weasley.
'If you will,' he replied. 'I see the cleaning is coming along well. I can almost get through the hall now.'
'That's because there is a large, unpaid work force,' voiced Fred from the opposite end of the table.
Professor Dumbledore smiled, but Mrs Weasley let out a sharp call of 'Fred!' that sent the rest of the table into giggles.
'You seem to be in an exceptional mood today,' said Remus as Mrs Weasley set the drink down in front of Professor Dumbledore.
'Indeed I am. The Order is progressing along quite steadily now,' he said.
The game of Tiddlywinks was restarted and the pot in the centre grumbled as Ginny shook the counters free, making loud, repulsive gags, as if puking the contents up onto the table. She shook it harder as the last one rattled noisily. The pot groaned, asking to be put out of its misery before being hit off the table in a last ditch effort.
Cassy slipped away as everyone tried their hand to dislodge the counter. Silently, she retreated back upstairs to her room. In the top draw of her desk lay a scroll, rolled carefully and long in length, longer than anything Cassy had had to write. When back in the kitchen, she slipped it in front of Professor Dumbledore after a particularly good shot by Remus that had even the pot complimenting him. She could feel the Headmaster's eyes on her all the way back to her seat. Pointedly, she did not look at him, instead fiddling with a loose button on her sleeve, frowning to make it appear as if it had been bothering her for some time.
She declined to have a turn. There were boos from Fred and George as she rose, carrying her mug over to the sink. She rinsed it out with no great urgency, before flicking on the kettle. It was all ready beginning to whistle, having only been boiled minutes before in another round of drinks. With all of the attention focused on the game, she wondered if she could possibly slip upstairs and return to her room. Perhaps she would read another book she had 'misplaced' in the house during cleaning, or finally decide on another topic of study that Harry and Neville would undoubtedly scrunch their faces up to when trying to comprehend how she actually could enjoy the work.
Suddenly, she was very aware there was someone beside her.
'I would have given it an 'O',' came a deep voice. 'Of course, I should have deducted points for it being fifty-years late.'
From the side of her eyes, Cassy saw Professor Dumbledore smiling softly. She forced a half-smile back easily, looking every bit as pleased as she had wanted it to and every bit more than she really felt.
'The pain of losing loved ones eases with time, but I will not tell you it will ever fade entirely. In time, you learn to value what he has left you, not miss what he has left you without,' he said quietly, his voice barely sounding over the chatter behind.
Cassy stiffly poured the boiling water. 'I apologise for my tone last time we spoke, Professor.'
'The words you spoke were honest, I cannot fault you for being so loyal,' he said kindly.
Pursing her lips, Cassy glanced at him from the corner of her eye and said, 'You misunderstand. I was not apologising for what I said, merely how I said them. I meant everything and I still hold firm that this is not how to treat Harry if you want to help him. I merely am saying I could have worded it better.'
To her great surprise, Professor Dumbledore was smiling. He did not seem the least but affronted by her stern manners and instead seemed to find them quite satisfactory. He too reached for the kettle and poured himself a mug of tea with the excuse his had gone cold; in all of their fun he had forgotten about it, he said, but he had only been given one five minutes prior. Cassy was inwardly simultaneously impressed and mournful that he was using it as an excuse for her to keep him company at the counter, knowing full well that her manners would not allow her to sit and leave him standing alone.
'You raised that you think Harry would be better off here than with his family,' said Professor Dumbledore lightly.
'With all due respect, Professor, they are related by blood and little else. No one there has any affection for him. They are not family,' she said coolly. A long sip was drawn from her tea, barely masking the severe expression that threatened to break through her calm exterior.
'They are the only family he has and I am certain deep down, Petunia loves him as the son of her dear sister,' he said.
'Sir, I am certain I could write a six-foot long essay on why Harry should not be kept with them longer than strictly necessary – which, in my opinion, is no more than a minute – and that would be limiting it to the most pressing reasons. I could probably go on for days. It is only out of respect for Harry's wishes that I have to revealed everything to this house's occupants and seen what they make of it,' retorted Cassy.
Professor Dumbledore was taking an inordinately long time stirring the sugar into his brewing beverage.
'He does not talk of his aunt and uncle then?' he asked curiously.
'Not at all. I only know because I visited last summer and forced my way into their house.'
Professor Dumbledore looked as if he might smile again. 'I suppose, given how strongly you feel on the matter and that you truly do know Harry best, that I could arrange for him to spend the last few weeks of the summer holidays here, if he so wishes.'
Cassy felt a great sense of relief and triumph wash over her all at once. She had done the supposedly impossible and change the great Albus Dumbledore's mind with only a few sharply chosen words. What was more, she had enabled Harry to leave his hole of waiting and loathing far earlier than anyone had intended and she considered waving it over his head as a demand for recompense later in the year.
Suddenly, a sharp noise rang through the house. It was dulled by the closed door, but still shrill and demanding. Sirius rose first, announcing it to be the call of the Floo. Someone was attempting to reach them on Firecall. Remus pushed him back into his seat and went to answer it himself. There was a chance, no matter how slim, that it was no someone from the Order and the chaos that would ensure when Sirius popped into view would be immense. Although Sirius momentarily looked disgruntled that he could not answer his own fireplace, he dropped back into his seat merrily enough with a short reminder that at least he would not have to deal with whoever was on the other end, demanding to know whatever it is they wanted.
Seconds later, Remus rushed back into the room. He halted midway down the rickety staircase and everyone fell silent.
'It's Arabella Figg. She says it is urgent,' he said, locking eyes with Professor Dumbledore.
There was not a moment spared as Professor Dumbledore glided across the room and up the stairs, vanishing, leaving them only with his footsteps thudding up the next flight of stairs.
Then, everyone began talking at once.
'Mrs Figg?' demanded Cassy loudly. 'Why is Mrs Figg part of the Order?'
'You know her?' asked Ginny, as Remus and Sirius turned to her in surprise.
'She is the woman who used to take care of Harry when the Dursley's did not want him. Was she placed there all this time to watch him? What a terrible job she has done!' she cried.
Everyone else's voices got louder at her words. There were quick demands to know what was going on, if her call meant Harry was in trouble, what she meant that she had done a terrible job, and calls of who was supposed to be on watch that night. Shrilly, Mrs Weasley demanded they all sit quietly and stop asking questions immediately.
Cassy pursed her lips. Mrs Weasley made no sign to answer any of their questions, so Cassy did not sit. She stood in place firmly, her eyes darting from Sirius to Remus, then to Tonks, and then to Bill and Mr Weasley. When they were all too busy exchanging their own nervous gazes, Cassy moved with resolution. Unwaveringly, even as she was called to take a seat and return to the kitchen, she marched from the room. Swiftly, she made her way up the stairs, passing Professor Dumbledore in the hall as she did and then rounded up the next flight. She heard him should for Mr Weasley to attend to the Ministry, his voice deeper than she had ever heard it, rough and stony. It only served to make her feet move quicker.
Once locked in her room, she wasted no time pulling the mirror from her bedside table. She pressed the faint rune on the front of the mirror, hissing Harry's name several times before letting out a low growl. There was no answer. After some time of trying, she dropped it onto the bed.
Something had happened, that much was obvious. Even under the watchful eyes of the Order, something terrible had happened. If not, Professor Dumbledore would not have sounded so severe. If Mr Weasley had to go into the Ministry, then they were undoubtedly involved in some way. Just how they were never managed to spring to Cassy's mind, for there was a sharp bang on her door and the frantic twisting of her handle. A grunt followed and another loud, thunderous knock.
Slipping off her bed, Cassy unlocked it. Ginny tumbled in, her eyes instantly focusing on the mirror atop her blue bed covers.
'Did you get hold of him?' she asked quickly.
'No. Ginny, what is wrong?' questioned Cassy, closing the door and locking them in once more.
'Harry's been expelled. Dad's just got back, he said the alarm went off for under-aged magic. He did the Patronus Charm in front of a Muggle. They've expelled him,' she said in a single breath.
Cassy did not breath. She stared, stricken. There was simply no way, there was no way that Harry would be so careless, not unless something had happened. Harry was not stupid. He would not do such a thing to catch their attention, he would know he would be expelled; he loved Hogwarts. The only reason he would do such a thing was if there had been Dementors sent to Little Whinging.
'Dementors are supposed to be under the control of the Ministry of Magic though,' she said finally, quietly, her eyebrows sinking and her head turning to the side in thought.
'We're not sure what happened, but Dumbledore was livid,' said Ginny, dropping herself down onto the bed. She waved the mirror in her hand, her thumb on the rune. 'He's gone to try and sort it out. Hedwig has just appeared in the kitchen, pecking everyone. Harry wants to know what's going on right now.'
'He could just call me,' muttered Cassy. 'Then again, sending a letter is sure to get the attention of the Order and prove how vital it is they communicate with him. It would become suspicious if he remained calm. Someone might assume we do have free contact.'
'Do you think he would have thought of that?' asked Ginny.
'He can be very clever, even if his ideas are sometimes too complex. If he wants out, then he would know his best bet is sending a scathing letter.'
After a few minutes of restlessness, Ginny retreated back downstairs to see if any news had been brought in. The house was suddenly alight with movement and it was impossible to tell who was coming and going. Tonks had probably returned to the Ministry to alert Kingsley and minimise what damage she could. Mrs Weasley's worried voice rang from the kitchens and Sirius' deep voice called from much closer, demanding to know the latest developments as someone else slipped through the front door. Wulburga's portrait began screaming and no one had the time to silence her.
Something shifted within her hands. Automatically, her thumb flicked over the rune and she levelled the mirror to her face.
'Harry!' she cried and the same time he called her name. 'What is going on? Ginny said you have been expelled?'
'Not now. They did, but it was reconsidered and I have a trial on the twelfth of August. Cassy, when am I getting out of here?' he said. His hair seemed more dishevelled than usual, a genuine mess that his usual charming mop. His face was pallid. The tan he had gained from avoiding his aunt and uncle's house all summer had seemingly vanished behind the panic, his face shining brightly with concern and confusion.
'I do not know,' she replied honestly. 'I managed to get Professor Dumbledore to agree to let you spend the last few weeks here only minutes before Mrs Figg called to report.'
'Did you know she was in on it? That she was a Squib?' he asked.
'I would have told you if I did. Harry, what happened? No one is telling us anything.'
Harry let out a short laugh, as if bitterly pleased he was the one with the knowledge for once, yet he looked strongly as if he would rather not be. He explained that he had been walking with his cousin, teasing him for bullying a ten-year-old, although he knew he should have not. He said it became icy suddenly in the alley they were walking in. For a minute, he thought he had done accidental magic, but he quickly realised he could not have; he did not have the ability to erase the stars from the sky.
Cassy listened with rapt attention as he detailed his cousin's panic. He knew something had been there, but he had not been able to them. He had lost his wand when Dudley had hit him in panic, finding it again by calling for it to light - impressive magical control, noted Cassy, but she was very aware that was the last thing on his mind.
It was only on his third try that he produced a Patronus, his thought – he trailed off in embarrassment, but mumbling he admitted he that thought of his friends. Cassy did not have the heart to snicker at him, it was quite sweet that his final thoughts before a possible death had been them, but like his impressive magic, she did not think that would make him feel much better either. Instead, she nodded, urging him continue and he did, explaining the large, white stag that had exploded from his wand and chased away the pair of Dementors.
Before he could begin to help Dudley out of the ball he had curled himself tightly into, Mrs Figg had appeared at the end of the alley, scolding him for trying to hide his wand away in his pocket. According to her, Mundungus should have been on watch, although unsurprising to Harry, he had tried his best to pretend he was unaware of his supervision.
'She had never told me she was a Squib because of Dumbledore. He said I was too young to know anything and she knew if the Dursley's thought I was having fun I would never be left with her again. Mundungus was supposed to tell Dumbledore, but Mrs Figg decided to in the end. She told Mundungus to stay around in case they come back at my suggestion. I was all ready aware that I needed to get Dudley home and I could hardly hold him as it was. He vanished before I got him in the house though, he said he was going back to watch. He seemed to think it would make Dumbledore less angry,' recalled Harry with little enthusiasm.
'Hardly. I have never seen him so furious before. We might be a man down if you had not suggested he stay,' commented Cassy.
'Yeah, well, I doubt I would be able to fend them off again if they came to the house. It's only the second time I have produced a corporeal Patronus. If I had to protect all three of them then I thought it might not end as well,' he admitted, but Cassy nodded firmly in agreement.
'That is clever. It still means you have the protection you should have been having all the while. I assume the letter then arrived to expel you?' said Cassy.
'Yeah, the rest if straight forward. I got that letter, my aunt and uncle wanted to know what happened, demanded I leave and blaming me for Dudley's state. I then got a letter from Mr Weasley telling me not to leave the house or surrender my wand. I considered making a run for it at this point, but then I would have no where to go. Dudley then said I pointed my wand at him – the little liar – utterly deluded from the attack. Turns out Aunt Petunia knows what Dementors are though, she even said they guard Azkaban. Apparently she recalled my mum talking about them once.
'I received a letter stating I did not have to hand over my wand, but attend a meeting on the twelfth instead. I think Uncle Vernon was disappointed they had not sentenced me to death though.'
He is building his own death sentence, thought Cassy seething.
'I got a letter from Sirius that told me to stay where I am again... My uncle tried to kick me out of the house again and then, oddly enough to top it all off, Aunt Petunia received a Howler,' he finished lightly, as if discussing the weather.
Ignoring Harry's heavy levels of sarcasm, Cassy asked, 'From who?' She frowned and Harry shrugged.
'It just said "Remember my last, Petunia". Last what, I don't know. I was hoping you would know who it was from, but apparently not.' He threw himself backwards onto his bed, lifting the mirror above his head. He did not bother to adjust his crooked glasses.
'And you did not recognise the voice in the slightest?' asked Cassy with an intrigued frown.
'It should be a crime for you to look so delighted at my misfortune,' snorted Harry.
Cassy rolled her eyes in return. 'It is not that at all!'
It was early the next morning that Cassy was once again sitting on her bed with the mirror in her hand and Harry's grass green eyes staring back at her. There was nothing to report to him. Hushed and very early, numerous people had crept through the halls of Grimmauld Place. The kitchen had been closed off the the last hour, wards drawn up so the Extendible Ears could not function and no one was keen to share anything when it was finally opened for breakfast.
The days that followed were no more informative that the last. However, on the fourth, Tonks pulled Cassy aside, muttering that they had made plans to go and collect him that evening. While she did not know the exact time, she had reported it back to Harry anyway, receiving and exasperated and grateful reply of 'finally'.
It was not formally announced until after dinner when everyone who had volunteered – Tonks had assured her there were many eager participants – had all ready left. Cassy slunk up to her room to have a peaceful hour of reading before they returned, tucked away out of the sights and minds of the Weasley children who would want to discuss it and far away from the eyes of her brooding father, who appeared to be sulking that he could not go and pick up his Godson himself.
Slowly, she was working her way through the rather large stack of books she had collected from throughout the house. It was becoming such a stack that it was impossible to ignore and if her father saw it he would banish them all before she had a chance to get a word in, having all ready taken one away from her that morning.
The door was propped open, not wide enough to be inviting, but just enough to let the slow activities of the house to reach her listening ears. Not that she needed it open to hear the bangs and thuds of Fred and George in a room above. They had returned to working on their new material; odd smells leaked through the halls each morning and Cassy had the sneaking suspicion they only woke as early as they did in a bid to hide it from their mother every day.
The doorbell sounded, short and sharp. Pages ceased turning and Cassy remained fixed with her fingers pinching the corner of the page as her eyes halted at the very last word. Slowly, her head inclined to the door. Voiced rang out out in the hall, cheerful and relieved greetings exchanged softly in mind on the portraits.
With a wide smile, she strode down the corridor, lingering at the top with her forearms resting on the bannister rail. Below her, Mrs Weasley hugged Harry tightly. Several of the Order of the Phoenix members who had yet to push past lingered behind them, chatting idly, Tonks amongst them with Remus by her side.
Suddenly, Harry looked up and beamed. Cassy smiled back down at him and he manoeuvred the stairs, catching her tightly at the top in a fierce hug of his own.
'Those are becoming quite common,' she remarked when he released her.
Unabashed, he continued to beam.
'Ah, Cassy, can you show Harry to his room. He'll be sharing with Ron,' whispered Mrs Weasley loudly.
'Right beside mine then,' said Cassy. She waved for Harry to follow her down the long hall. His eyes drifted over the heads mounted high and the scowling portraits, he stepped away from the reaches of the shifting boxes and the smiling figurines that were fixed to the walls.
'So, this is the house of your ancestors?' he said conversationally.
'Yes, although I imagine it was much grander in its prime. My Grandmother was starting to let it rot before she died,' answered Cassy.
'The Grandmother fixed behind the curtain in the Entrance Hall?' he asked.
'The very same. I am sure you will get to meet her soon. Something will upset her.'
Cassy knocked on Ron's bedroom door, indicating to her own as they passed. There was no answer.
'If you're looking for Ron, he's upstairs in Fred and George's room. They got Neville to agree to help them with something and he's yet to return, so Ron went to do some damage control,' said a voice behind them.
'All right, Ginny?' said Harry.
'Not bad, better that you, I reckon,' she said.
Harry turned back to Cassy. 'So, Neville is here?'
'Only when they intend to have meetings. His Grandmother brings him,' she said simply.
By the time they had reached the upper landing, the three of them could all ready hear the muffled discussion from twins' bedroom. Despite the door being shut, heated words leaked through the cracks and Cassy made a mental note to reprimand Neville for letting himself be a test subject for Fred and George, most likely having got himself into trouble if Ron's grumbles were anything to go by. True to this, when Cassy entered without so much as announcing her presence, she saw Neville lying on George's bed, eyes close and face relaxed; he almost seemed blissfully asleep.
'Have you tried another one of your Fainting Fancies?' asked Cassy as she strode by to perch on the edge of George's bed.
'Evening, Harry,' chimed both Fred and George, not looking up from their notes.
'Hey,' he said lifelessly back.
It was remarkable, in Cassy's honest opinion, that Harry had yet to make a jibe or jab about the house yet. He had been there for three minutes and had retained his temper, something Cassy had expected to boil over immediately once all of the Order members were out of sight. Instead, he took a seat on Fred's bed beside Ron, while Ginny mumbled something about checking the wards on the kitchen door, snatching a box of Dungbombs off the chest of drawers.
'Cassy, dear,' said George, imitating his mother's warm, sweet voice she always used with her, 'please fan Neville to stop him over-heating.' He handed her a thin fan from what appeared to be transfigured paper.
Cassy looked at it and back to Neville, casting a look of long suffering at George.
'He'll be fine! We thought we had the remedy sorted and obviously the next phase was to test it on someone else. These things happen. He even sighed a waver,' he said, holding up a scrap of paper with lines of crooked, hand-written agreements covering it.
'That will never hold up in court if you kill him,' she said, unimpressed and somewhat teasing.
'Will you sue us?' asked Fred.
'No, but his Grandmother might have something to say about it,' she said lightly, smirking as the twins shuddered. Even Ron looked grim on their behalf.
'Well, woman, don't just sit there – fan him!' demanded Fred and Cassy was very nearly about to retort than he should fan him himself when the bedroom door opened once more. Ginny poked her head in, heaving a heavy sigh.
'The Extendible Ears are a no go,' she said, grabbing a cloth from the side to wipe her blackened hands. 'I tried to flick Dungbombs at it, but they just bounced right off and inch before hitting it. They've shielded it.'
Everyone groaned.
'It must be important then,' said Ron morosely.
'I still think Moody will have seen the ears. It is probably his doing,' said Cassy.
'Well, you can always ask Sirius, can't you?' asked Ginny eagerly.
'I can try, but I might have to wait a few days,' agreed Cassy thoughtfully.
'Sirius tells you about the meetings?' queried Harry suddenly.
Cassy turned. There was something in his tone that made her wary. Still, she nodded. 'Sometimes. The contents of the meeting are at parental digression, so I can usually learn information from my father, although I hardly assume this to be the entire meetings contents.'
Her words were picked carefully, delicate and with no meaning beyond how she had used them. She could still see rage bubbling beneath the surface in Harry's face, ready, if anyone would take it, to explode and release the pent up emotions, the resentment and the sadness, that he had held within all summer. While Cassy had been on the receiving end of a fair few battles during the past month, his words harsher and more demanding than anything he had ever lashed in her direction, she had always known that he took a great deal of effort to restrain those feelings in their conversations. After all, Cassy was the one person giving him information. She had been doing her best to keep him in the loop when amongst people who were keen to keep him in the dark, unaware of what Voldemort was plotting, despite the numerous attempts he had made on his life over the years.
They both knew, and perhaps that was why Cassy had not taken such great offence to his criticisms, that his anger did not lay with their friends, but with their Headmaster. Yet, a sort of renewed irritation was beginning to show for his Godfather.
'Harry,' she said curtly, before he could possibly find the words to begin an angry tirade, 'if my father was willing to leave hiding, come back to Britain, and to live in a cave eating only rats for months last year, I think we can safely say he does have your best intentions at heart.'
Harry deflated quickly and he sighed.
George, who had inclined his head towards them as they spoke, shifted on the ground, fixing Harry with a peculiarly serious expression. 'Mate, you need to calm down. We are all frustrated. Fred and I haven't been allowed to join, even though we're of age. Trust us, if we were in the Order, we would let you know everything we did.'
'It's totally unfair that you don't know anything more than us, I mean, it is you You-Know-Who has it in for. We've told you before,' said Ron.
'Yeah, so don't blow up, all right?' added Ginny.
Harry bit his lip and Cassy could tell he was thinking hard about it. The mild resignation on his face had not left by the time Mrs Weasley called them downstairs again, eager to fill Harry's stomach with sandwiches. He worked his way through two before Sirius piped up about the meeting. Just as he did with Cassy, he spoke honestly. Much of it was things they had all ready told him through the mirror, the little things they had worked out or listened in on, but there was one defining fact that he raised that had everyone's rapt attention.
'He wants stuff he can only get by stealth, like a weapon. Something he did not have last time,' said Sirius and suddenly everyone's ears pricked.
Before Harry was able to finish asking what kind of weapon it might be, Mrs Weasley had cut him off and ended the discussion. Like most nights when she had had enough of the children, she sent them to bed early. Neville said his goodbyes before departing with his Grandmother and everyone trekked up to bed. Ginny was still scowling from her mother trying to evict her before the talk, holding on barely by stating Cassy would merely tell her everything anyway and when Cassy nodded along in defence, she had been allowed to remain.
The mood of the house barely picked up the next day. At long last, they were going to begin cleaning the Drawing Room. Mrs Weasley seemed pleased by the prospect of having somewhere comfortable to sit and Cassy knew she had obviously never actually been in the room. It was as far from comfortable as it could be with the age old stuffing in the chairs having become hard and uncompromising from neglect.
Sirius responded to Mrs Weasley's curt questionings with as much enthusiasm as Cassy had for the day. It was clear she was only asking out of courtesy and that she had no interest in what he wanted, still visible annoyed from his willingness to shed light of the Order's actions on her children the night before.
Once she had escaped upstairs to once again call for breakfast, Remus turned to Cassy and Sirius with a pointed look that appeared very well practised.
'It is difficult enough with one moody mutt, I don't need two,' he said, casting a long suffering look at Cassy.
'My enthusiasm for cleaning can only stretch so far for so long,' she responded despondently.
Sirius nodded along with her. 'She has a point.'
'It has to be done, so if you two could just cheer up - '
'Easy for you to say, you get to leave this wretched place,' snapped Sirius.
Remus took no notice.
Once breakfast was done and cleared, Cassy's spirits had lifted slightly. The reality of cleaning with Mrs Weasley was, in fact, very different to what she had envisioned in her mind. As long as she made a little bit of progress and appeared busy blasting Doxys from the air with disinfectant, she did not really have to do much beyond share the occasional dead-eyed look with her father and Harry, the latter of whom worked well under the command, yet appeared as if this was the very opposite of how he had imagined spending time in the house.
'I told you it was not all fun and games,' said Cassy lowly when Harry arrived back from where he had been speaking to Sirius. 'Or much fun at all, really.'
'Still better than being locked in my bedroom,' he mumbled back, picking up one of the last sandwiches that had been saved for him. Sirius had explained all about the family tree and it seemed the reality of Cassy's widespread heritage had only begun to sink into Harry's mind when he could visualise the full history of it. The pair often broke off through that day to talk to one another and Cassy found that she did not mind at all. Whereas their closeness had previously played on her mind, she almost found that she had settled that part of herself, found peace with the position of her father in her life after several late night conversations and early morning starts where the two had found each other for company.
She almost felt as though she owed him an apology. Her temper had been short and her interest in him even less so, yet he had stuck around and persevered with her when blood clearly meant so little to him. Yet, there was still twelve years of damage to be calculated, an entire history to be settled and endless disappointments and years of resentment to be burnt before Cassy felt she would ever be entirely happy.
Regardless, she found herself pleased that the two were talking. Harry always missed Sirius terribly, worrying for his well-being as the only adult he had in his life who truly acted as if he cared for him and not for a greater purpose.
Perhaps, thought Cassy as she listened to the kettle boil later that night, that is why I do not feel so angry any more. He may not have prioritised his daughter when she was young, running recklessly to avenge his friends, but he was managing well to care for Harry when he needed him the most. Slowly, he was working his way back into Cassy's favour too with kind words and his black humoured jokes, well aware that his relationship with his daughter required more of a delicate hand.
Kreacher grumbled around her knees, cursing her beneath his breath. She paid him no mind, stretching out her back where the muscles had knotted from a day spent ducking beneath furniture to rid the room of Doxy's once and for all. By the end of the day, Mrs Weasley was confident they had got them all, but warned them back for duty tomorrow just to be sure. Ron, who had been bitten no less than five times, groaned loudly at the prospect, barely able to life his knife and fork at dinner with his swollen fingers.
Plucking the mug back out of Kreacher's hands as he pulled it from the side to undoubtedly hoard it in his cupboard, Cassy turned her head. The door at the top of the stairs opened and yet no one descended. A few seconds passed before Cassy turned back to the kettle.
'It is just me,' she called.
Feet them began to shuffle down the stairs, light footed, yet tall, if the long shadows cast across the walls were anything to measure by.
'I didn't want to come down in case it was something else,' came a low voice from behind.
'Such as what?' she asked, tipping the boiling water into the mug at last. 'Do you want one?'
'Er – yeah, sure. I don't know. After everything you said about this house I had high expectations for weirdness,' he said, taking a seat at the table. A faint scrape sounded, indicating that Harry had pulled her book across the table to get a better look at.
'There is nothing wrong with the house, oh no. The only thing wrong with it is the vile people within it, Half-Bloods and Blood-Traitors - ' sounded Kreacher's seething voice from the far corner.
'Ignore him,' said Cassy quietly, setting the drinks down. 'He is under the impression we cannot hear his mutterings. Do you want some treacle tart? Mrs Weasley made me some, she said it will cheer me up and otherwise I will have to eat the entire thing by myself before she fusses and makes me another one.'
'Sure,' said Harry. 'It's my favourite and that hardly sounds like a bad deal at all.'
'It is very sweet of her, but I only eat so much and frankly being force fed is not high on my list of favourite pastimes,' complained Cassy. She cut two generous slices of tart before putting the remained back in the fridge and joining Harry at the table.
He thanked her, his eyes remaining on the index of the book she had selected to keep her company in the early hours of the morning. His frown grew the more he read and Cassy could all ready anticipate the questions he would surely ask, having no answers prepared other than the truth.
'This is like the book Sirius took off you in the Drawing Room, isn't it?' he asked seriously. She regarded him coolly as he continued, 'Why do you read this, you always swore you hated this sort of stuff.'
'I want to know everything there is to know about what constitutes as Dark Magic, because I want to understand what happened to Alphard. No one seems able to tell me what it was that happened, the spell, the caster, the effects, reluctant to tell me even how it caused it. I want to know as much as I can so it can never happen again to anyone I care for,' she explained coldly, firmly, confident and unwavering in her motives.
It was the first time she had ever mentioned Alphard's death since his passing. She had said his name, but it almost seemed as if he were alive when she did, mentioning in passing of him and their home. Her stomach gave an uncomfortable twinge and a voice in the back of her mind wished she could take it all back, erasing the stinging in her tongue that his name left.
For a moment, Harry just stared, before his eyes flicked down to the table. 'Sorry.'
'What for?' she asked, her voice almost casual as she took an unnecessarily large spoonful of tart into her mouth.
'I pestered you a lot over the last month for information about what's going on with the Order when I should have let you concentrate on other things than just what I wanted,' he said quietly.
Cassy raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly guilty at his forlorn expression. 'You asked how I was so frequently that it became quite irritating, actually. That was enough for me.'
'Still... and what do you mean it was irritating? I asked once every time we spoke, that's called being polite,' protested Harry.
'Try three or four times,' drawled Cassy in a mock whisper.
'That's just rude,' grumbled Harry.
The pair smiled at each other from beneath their brows as they continued to make short work of the pudding.
'Still, do not be so over-sensitive about my well-being. I read because I want to and that is sufficient,' said Cassy with finality. 'Being so careful will not get you far in this house, the inhabitants will make short work of you. Why are you up so late, anyway?'
'There seems to be something living in the wall cavity that woke me up. Then, I heard you get up and not come back, so I just got out of bed because I wasn't going back to sleep any time soon,' he said with a shrug. 'Why are you up?'
'I am always up late and you might want to get as much sleep as you can, we have more cleaning to do tomorrow.'
Harry groaned.
Ta-da! The long awaited arrival of Harry.
I had a Guest reviewer appear on Skin of a Dragon to correct some of my spelling mistakes. This is absolutely fine. My word processor thinks half of what I put isn't real anyway because of all the unusual names, and I am apparently probably dyslexic (two school and my university have wanted me tested, but I refused each time) so I have a tendency to miss mistakes when I read it back. I kind of see what I expect to and not what is there. I will have a closer look from now on though and will try and correct the mistakes in the past stories. If I do keep spelling something wrong, let me know.
What do you think? I didn't have Harry blow up because he wasn't completely kept in the dark and was shut down before he could get his anger out. I feel as though Ron and Hermione should have called him out a little bit more for expecting too much of them in the book, but I understand why he was cross.
Also, what do you think of my little introduction to the Dark Arts? A slippery slope, Cassy! I do think the best counter-measure is to understand what you are up against, but it is never really delved into, so we might see some unfavourable interests going on in the background.
I appreciate all of the reviews. Tell me what you think as always.
Thanks!