C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

Chapter VII: Contained freedom

Light filtered in around the golden curtains the same that morning as it did every morning. The bright, garish yellow light of the lamp post crawled across the white ceiling and down to the wooden floor. The Sun had yet to rise, but it was coming, threatening infect the bedroom with an infallible light that would surely bleed through her eyelids and stop sleep claiming her once more, but Cassy had no intention of sleeping anyway.

The large clock above the fireplace read half-four. There was no movement from within the house, not even Kreacher patrolling the halls as he often did. It seemed like a good excuse to remain wrapped in the covers, obscenely comfortable for once with the simple knowledge that, for the first time in weeks, she really should be waking before sunrise. Yet, her eyes refused to remain closed and her mind continued to over-work as it always did. Swiftly, before she could second guess her choice another time, Cassy rolled over and switched on the lamp on her bedside table. Following the motion, she slipped out of bed, plucking the silk dressing gown from the back of the door and shut it behind her silently.

Gingerly, she stepped down the hall. The carpet was sticky, mottled with stains and subject to change appearance at the pleasure of the houses tiny keeper. Cassy did not look down. She did not want to know what squelched beneath her outside of Harry and Ron's bedroom. Quietly, she rapped her knuckles on the varnished wood of their door. Shuffling sounded from within and soon the pale face of her friend peaked out to greet her.

'Hey,' he whispered.

Cassy took a step back to allow him to slip into the hall. Harry shut the door behind him, muffling Ron's carefree snores.

'How are you?' she asked quietly.

'Feeling great, never better,' he replied and Cassy shifted on the spot, then smiled slightly up at him.

'Just so you know, if you do get expelled, I am not above acquiring a wand for you,' she said, flippantly.

He managed a genuine, crooked smile back down at her. 'Whatever happened to everyone being certain I will get off for it?'

'It is just an offer,' she said casually. 'Feel free to decline.'

'Absolutely not. Maybe if I did get expelled I could live a magical life free from the papers and the hassle of the wizarding world...' he joked, his voice quivering slightly towards the beginning.

'Are we that bad?' She held her smile well.

Harry shrugged. 'I suppose I can make room for you to visit occasionally.'

'I do not need your permission, Potter,' retorted Cassy.

Considering Harry had paid Fred and George a thousand Galleons to offer some joy, it was a personal triumph to make him laugh on the day that may dictate his entire future. Slowly, both their smiles began to slip from their faces. Cassy took a deep breath.

'Keep your head held high. Do not answer back, even if they provoke you and there will certainly be those that try. You need to keep your story straight. Do not let them pressure you into contradicting yourself. If they cut you off them let them. You have to remain calm and continue when they stop. Do not fight, it puts you in a bad light,' she instructed. 'Wear something nice. I had something delivered for you. You must make a good impression.'

'Are those where those clothes came from?' asked Harry curiously.

'Of course,' she said, firmly. 'I could not let you appear in court in your usual attire.'

'What's wrong with my usual clothes?' he asked indignantly.

Cassy cast him a piercing stare and Harry threw up his hands in surrender. 'Point taken.'

'I mean it. Try and win their hearts and their minds. Make eye contact. Someone has set you up,' she said, 'and keep an eye out for who is against you, who is leading the crowd. Make a note of the friendly faces. Sometimes those with the most power possess the least subtly.'

'I will.'

The two did not hug. Hugging would be suggesting she thought she would not see him again, a good-bye and an acknowledgement he needed luck. Instead, Cassy went back to her room without more than a smile and got herself ready for the day. She heard Harry slowly return to his room and moments later step back out and down the hall, creaking on the stairs as he shifted his weight uncertainly on each and every one of them.

By the time Cassy exited her room again, her hair tied loosely over one shoulder, she was just in time to see Harry arrive at the door. A smell of bacon and sausages filled the hall from the hurried breakfast Mrs Weasley had cooked him, most likely uneaten. It was one of the similarities the pair shared when stressed; they did not eat. Beside Harry was Mr Weasley tensely smiling to his wife, who had just swept Harry in for a tight embrace. Tonks was behind, along with Sirius, who was smiling as Harry peered at him through Mrs Weasley's curly red hair. She held him close for a long time. Mr Weasley slowly put his hand on Harry's shoulder, peeling him backwards slowly from his wife, who smiled tensely at him.

'You'll be fine dear,' she said, although it was clear how she doubted her own words.

Tersely, Harry ventured a glance up at the stairs. He looked away and then quickly doubled back around. There was no doubt that he had gazed up the stairs before. They locked eyes and Cassy slowly nodded in assurance. Harry did not nod back. He stared up at her until Mr Weasley pulled him from the house, tipping his hat to the others in the hall as he went. The door slammed and Harry was gone.

Cassy ignored the sinking sensation in her stomach.

'Cassy,' came a voice from below, forcing her to recognise the others' presences. 'Come and have breakfast.'

Cassy opened her mouth to decline Mrs Weasley's offer, she did not feel much like eating. It was too early and she hardly considered grouping herself in with Harry's worried parental figures to be a proactive way to spend the wait. However, Tonks clapped her hands together.

'Yeah, I haven't - ' she let out a long, loud yawn, 'properly seen you in ages. We haven't had a good conversation since you've been here. Come and chat.'

'Should you not go to bed?' asked Cassy with a slight frown.

Her cousin shook her head and waved. 'I'll come and get you if you try and wander back to your room.'

Knowing very much that Tonks would unashamedly drag her down the flight of stairs with her bare hands, Cassy conceded to the undoubtedly uncomfortable meal.

Breakfast was a dull affair, if anything. No one spoke much, beyond Tonks' continuing chatter and the punctuated murmurs of acknowledgement from Cassy. Once Tonks agreed to return home to finally sleep from her late night shift, the kitchen fell into deeper wariness. Mrs Weasley washed the plates unnaturally slowly; Sirius stared across to the wall blankly, his smile having slipped from his tired face the moment Harry had left the house; Remus waited patiently, the calmest of the adults.

'He will not be charged,' he said suddenly. 'Dumbledore will not allow it.'

'Dumbledore doesn't control all of the wizarding world,' said Sirius lowly.

The conversation died before it had a chance to blossom. Cassy wondered if she could possibly sneak up to her room and escape the awkward silence, but whenever she shifted in her seat Mrs Weasley would look up sharply, twitching at the sound as if it might have been the front door opening with news.

Relief came in the form of Ginny and Hermione traipsing down at half-seven. They slumped into the room, their stooping shoulders and puffy eyes telling of their late night conversations and forced early start. They looked between the three at the table carefully as their blurry eyes allowed. Quickly, Mrs Weasley jumped up to put the next round of sausages into the pan, seemingly more cheerful with a crowd to be pleasant for. Her face was tight.

'What time did you get up?' asked Hermione. She had arrived three days prior. Unable to stay away at the short, rather cruelly so, letter that Harry had sent about the incident at Privet Drive, she had demanded her arrival regardless of Cassy's previous discretion. She had had a lot to say on the matter having spent the time before her arrival researching every law and every loophole in his defence.

'Half-four,' replied Cassy, standing to make herself another cup of tea.

'Why?' questioned Ginny, incredulously.

'So I could speak to Harry before he left,' she said shortly.

'How was he?' said Hermione.

'Fine,' lied Cassy.

Not long afterwards, Ron and Neville, who had specially requested he be allowed to stay the night before to be present for the verdict, along with Fred and George appeared around the table. The continuous smell of bacon and egg wafting through the various levels of the house after an hour had eventually roused the boys from their slumber. Tiredly, they wiped at their eyes and took their seats. Like Hermione, Neville asked after Harry and they all listened eagerly as Ginny retold them what Cassy had said. Every time it was said, Sirius seemed to ease a fragment more. It was surprising, to Cassy at least, that he could gather concern so quickly; he had been calm and dismissive of the trial until the very point Harry had walked from the door. His equanimity had crumbled, although Cassy largely thought she was the only one to see it.

However, she did not make eye contact with him. He was far to intent on guzzling as many mugs of coffee as possible and Cassy had found new interest in the cookbook that had been propping up a crooked kitchen door. Slowly, she flicked through the pages, scanning the recipes and eyeing the moving drawn images, their lines thick and bold, showing its age. Ginny had leant over when Cassy made a muffled, throaty noise of indignation as she came to a chapter titled 'Baking with banes'. Despite herself, Cassy turned to see exactly what poison foods the book suggested.

As the boys tucked into their first meals and Mrs Weasley sought to offer the left overs around, especially to Sirius who had not yet eaten at all, the post arrived. Fred and George received a letter from Lee Jordon and Cassy one too. The looping green letters across the front was telling of Astoria.

'More post again, dear?' asked Mrs Weasley. 'You really must tell them to write less.'

'I have,' defended Cassy. 'I merely have more people who wish to converse with me.' It almost sounded like a jibe and while Cassy hated the possibility of being rude to Mrs Weasley, she had explained the situation multiple times. If they were going to send letters then they would. If she told them to halt all together, there was a sizeable possibility that they would merely write more.

Mrs Weasley's head tilted to one side slight as she smiled forcefully. She was hardly in the mood to smile while Harry was on trial. 'I know, but - '

'Oh, let her get her post, Molly. It's good to have some contact from the outside world. So what if people notice owls hanging about? They will never find this place anyway. It is too well guarded,' snapped Sirius, throwing down the Daily Prophet.

Confined to the house and each other's company, even their arguments had begun to repeat.

'Dumbledore said - ' began Mrs Weasley sharply.

'Dumbledore can make mistakes. Just because he thinks it is best to be locked up - ' snapped Sirius.

'We are not talking about you! You are talking about your daughter's constant post!' she shouted.

'And I am saying that it is no harm to get the odd letter every week!' he roared back.

'This is because Albus said you can't accompany Harry to the trial – and with good reason,' she said shrilly, waving her hand as if to bat away an irritating fly. 'If you want to be caught then so be it, but not on the head of anyone else.'

'This is not about me,' laughed Sirius incredulously. 'We are talking about post!'

'Are we? Or were we really talking about you gallivanting out freely when you know very well why you can't?' she said tensely. Then, without another acknowledgement, she turned back to the counter, furiously scrubbing at the pans.

At the table, Sirius huffed and picked the paper back up, opening it loudly and widely to bury his face within the moving pages. The teens peered between each other silently. Slowly, but too noisily, Ginny scraped back her chair.

'I want you all back here in ten minutes!' snapped Mrs Weasley. She did not turn to face them.

'Right,' said George.

'Sure,' agreed Ron quickly.

Everyone scrambled up the staircase, not slowing until they reached the very top of the first flight of stairs. Below them, Walburga grumbled behind her curtain at the noise. Only when they heard the kitchen door swing shut did they burst into nervous, loud whispers. The Weasleys separated back to their rooms, but Hermione remained behind, staring grimly at Cassy.

'He does know that Dumbledore was right not to let him go, doesn't he?' she asked, her lips pressed thinly together.

'Most likely. It is not as though the possibility of Pettigrew having informed the Death Eaters of his animagus form would have escaped him,' answered Cassy with a sigh. She agreed with Professor Dumbledore that it was far too risky to let Sirius go. Too many workers were old Death Eaters and Fudge himself knew of Sirius was potentially in contact with her, Harry, and Remus. To see a dog in the building would only cause suspicion and if he were to be captured now, all of the Order of the Phoenix could be risked to exposure at the rigorous questioning that was sure to follow. Harry would certainly be expelled for aiding a man, however innocent, who was a wanted criminal. Cassy would be fortunate not to get the same fate. Sirius must know that, she reasoned. 'His desire to leave the house to be of use might be overwhelming though,' she finished, half speaking to herself and half to Hermione.

'It must be terrible, but it has to be better than eating rats in a cave like last year, right?' said Hermione, wrapping her jumper tighter around herself.

Cassy's lips thinned darkly. Sirius would most certainly argue with that.

They regrouped sometime later. The arduous chore of cleaning was set upon them once again, this time for the grand dining room on the ground floor of which they had never touched. Armed with spray bottles and gloves, they were tasked with sorting through what could and could not be thrown away. The walls were blue with silver accents. Like every other room, a grand fireplace sat at the far end, the long, dark wood table stretching across the centre of the floor above a dusty, but very beautiful mat. Large windows were soon uncovered, so thick with years of grime that the dim light of the early morning struggled to penetrate at all. Over to one side of the room was a pile of boxes filled with objects best left to Sirius' discretion. He had not emerged from the kitchen. Yet, they cleaned better than ever before. Rather than simply moving objects around in an attempt to shy from the chore, they embraced it. It was repetitive and meticulous, mind consuming at the best of times and that meant forgetting for a few precious moments that Harry was in his trial by now, presenting his evidence and hearing the prosecution, being drilled for all possibilities on how Dementors could possibly have arrived in the little Muggle suburbs.

Cassy took a sheet of the day's newspaper that had been brought up to wrap some of the more delicate items in. Before each sheet was wrapped around anything, Cassy combed it for information. The pages had yet to contain much. There was some idol gossip and an interesting article on new international relations formed by the Triwizard Tournament, but it spoke nothing of Harry, nor of any suspicious activities.

'Oy, if we have to clean then so do you,' said Fred, snatching the paper from her. 'Just because your dad owns the house doesn't mean you get to laze around.'

'If you do not clean, then what is the point of you?' she asked, blinking owlishly. Turning to get another piece of paper, she pretended not to see the indignation on Fred's face as she did her best to appear utterly serious.

'George, she just compared us to house-elves,' he cried.

'Oh, no,' said Cassy severely. 'My house-elves are far more useful than either of you.'

Fred threw a scrunched paper ball at her. She moved a fraction to the side and it soared by to hit Neville in the back of the head.

'If you three are seen messing around, your mother won't be pleased,' came Hermione's low voice from the other side of the huge dining room.

'She is not my mother and she is all ready vexed about my post, so I will take my chances,' drawled Cassy. Laughing eased the worry inside and finally conversation was struck.

'She isn't actually mad at you, you know. She is just concerned because Dumbledore warned us about the mail. I think it worries her that we might be found out and traced,' offered Ginny, moving to stack more books back onto the shelves.

'As far as anyone is concerned, I am still living with Tonks. She occasionally goes out pretending to be me – although I am still unsure how I feel about that,' said Cassy.

'You're lucky she's not mad at you. She always likes the friends better than her own kids. She thinks Harry is a tiny Merlin with the way she looks at him,' said Ron with a lazy laugh.

'I do hope he is all right,' fretted Hermione and with that, the tone became very sombre.

The glum feeling continued into lunch. A slight panic had risen that he had not returned yet and swirling questions about what if he could not return and had to go back to his aunt and uncle began to rise. Cassy frowned at Neville, stating she would sooner go there and bring him back herself if that was the case and while Sirius nodded beside her, Hermione looked more dubious. Her eyes were fixed to the clock nervously.

'When he gets back, I'll have to make him a few sandwiches. He hardly ate breakfast. He'll be hungry. Oh, what's his favourite, what do we have?' rambled Mrs Weasley as she mulled around the kitchen noisily. As the pots were shoved into the cupboard for the third time as she rearranged them needlessly, a sudden sound from upstairs halted all movement. No one even dared to shift in their seat, listening carefully to the footsteps above. Two sets. Two people had returned.

The kitchen door opened quietly. The tattered, old shoes of Mr Weasley slipped onto the staircase first, then Harry's new trainers that Cassy had brought him for his birthday. Mr Weasley's face was blank and Harry looked as pale and uncertain as he ever did. Then, suddenly but too slowly for Cassy's liking, he broke out into a wide grin.

'I knew it!' cheered Ron, throwing a fist into the air.

'He got off, he got off,' cheered Fred, George, and Ginny over and over in a mantra.

'What took you so long?' reprimanded Cassy. She stood and Harry held out his arms for a hug. She pulled back after a few seconds. 'How did it go then?'

'Well, I'm not expelled,' he said brightly, laughing at Cassy's pointed stare. 'I won't be needing that wand, at least.'

'Consider it an open offer. It will still be there for next time you might need it,' she said.

'Expecting that soon?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Well, you being you...' Cassy smirked and Harry pushed her shoulder playfully.

'Oh, Harry!' cried Hermione, unable to hold her relief in any longer. Even Harry's Seeker reflexes could not protect him from the lightning fast missile of tangled brown hair that Hermione had become. She wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him down to her height. 'I knew you'd be fine.'

'Really? It looks like everyone's relieved, actually,' he teased.

'Yeah, well, for a moment we accidentally thought you were a normal person and worried you might not come back,' said Neville. He clapped Harry on the back with a grin.

'Well, if this one woman had her way I certainly wouldn't have been,' said Harry, finally being released.

When everyone was once again seated around the table and Harry had been forcefully fed several sandwiches, he began to tell them of his trial; how the time had been changed suddenly, how a toad-faced woman in pink had seemed to have an instant and formidable dislike for him, smiling often in a nasty, spiteful way that he was certain she thought was actually cute. Her voice was irritatingly high and sweet, but not nearly as much so as her penetrating, ringing giggle.

Small groups of cheerful chatter broke out across the table. Sirius and Mr Weasley were talking in hushed tones at the very end and Mrs Weasley was scolding Fred, George, and Ginny for their continuous chanting earlier as they threatened to renew it at the end of Harry's retelling. In amusement, Cassy turned to Harry, her eyes shining brightly. They dimmed slightly; Harry's hand had risen to his scar once again.

'Are you all right?' whispered Neville from across the table, having caught the gesture too.

'Fine,' said Harry quickly.

'Is it hurting again?' asked Hermione with a light frown.

'His scar?' queried Ron. 'Why would that hurt?'

'It doesn't. It's just a headache,' protested Harry sternly.

'He has not had a drink in over six hours, Harry is probably just slightly dehydrated,' voiced Cassy civilly.

Harry cast her a long, thankful side-long stare.

Following the wonderful news of Harry's trial, spirits lifted and remained higher than they had been all summer. Even cleaning could not dampen them. In fact, as more and more rooms began to look the part they were built for everyone became even more joyous, knowing the tedious task was finally almost complete. Tonks had even remarked how Cassy had brightened up a lot since June.

Sirius, on the other hand, seemed tense. The shorter the days became as they made way for the long autumn nights, he appeared to sink into himself somewhat, still smiling, but frowning whenever he thought no one was watching. Cassy had taken to watching his moods swap and change from a distance. There were too many ways to be brushed aside, too many ways to drive the delicate relationship the two had forged in captivity together away and place them both back at square one. She mentioned it in passing to Tonks instead, trusting her to pass a message on to Remus without prompting and to leave it to her father's old friend to stabilise his mood. She knew he did not want them to leave. He would be alone again. Hermione called him selfish; Neville called him lonely. Either description irritated Harry.

It was not until the final day of the holidays that the book list arrived. They should have arrived weeks ago, but Cassy had a suspicion that Professor Dumbledore had withheld theirs, just in case Harry had been expelled, or the sight of half a dozen school letters vanishing in the middle of London caught the eye of any unwanted witch of wizard. Mrs Weasley had inspected each of her children's lists in the kitchen, making note of each new book they needed and thankfully there were few. Ginny had all ready been given Ron's old books and Fred and George needed one for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Ron another two. Cassy handed over money along with Harry and Hermione at breakfast, thanking her for the offer to get their books too as she bustled upstairs with her little list held tightly in her hand.

As discussion broke out about who the new Professor was, Fred and George stated their parents had been talking of how difficult Professor Dumbledore had found finding another replacement, and Ron stared gormless down at the letter in his hand. Only when Ginny asked what was wrong, did he tip the envelope. A single, metal badge fell onto the table.

'Prefect?' breathed Hermione. 'Oh, Ron, me too!'

Everyone's head snapped to her as she held up her own silver pin.

'Well, no surprise there,' said Fred, 'but Ron?'

'We thought it would be Harry!' added George. 'I suppose you've been in too much trouble though.'

Cassy watched as Harry's face flickered. His eyes remained fixed on Ron's pin, while his eyebrows twitched down a fraction and his lips rolled inwards just enough to be visible.

'Are you jealous?' she muttered curiously.

Harry turned to her in surprise and then scowled. 'Of course not.' He spoke too quickly.

'You have never expressed a desire to be Prefect before,' she commented, looking back to Ron. Fred and George had begun to make snide remarks, snatching the letter and badge from him, looking most aggrieved their younger brother had taken after Percy in status.

'I am not bitter, Cassy,' said Harry defiantly.

'Personally,' she said lowly, sliding her eyes to him as she faced the others, 'I was expecting Dean to be made Prefect. He always remains within the rules and is popular amongst the students. I am surprised Ron got it.'

Silently, she considered Ron as a Prefect. He had not broken the rules often and although he was hardly a model student in his work ethic, he did not stand out as an abuse of power either. Ron was close to Harry, yet distant enough to not be considered of use to him if anyone were to consider the Gryffindor Prefects, there would be no assumption he was given it in order to protect Harry's interests. If Harry had received it, given the recent articles, Professor Dumbledore would surely be accused of favouritism, allowing anyone who questioned Harry to be deducted points at his own desecration. Cassy did not voice this. She all ready knew by the look on her friend's face that her words about Dean had hit a nerve as intended. It merely proved Harry was jealous, although she was unsure as to why.

When Mrs Weasley came to bid them good-bye before her trip and Fred drew her attention to the badge still clutched in Ron's hand, Harry seemed to sink even more into himself. She gushed, sweeping him into a fierce hug in the knowledge four of her six sons had become prefects. Red with embarrassment, Ron wriggled his way out.

'You've got be have a reward for this! Would you like an owl like Percy? But then, you and Ginny share, so you don't really need one...' rambled Mrs Weasley in excitement.

'Mum, can I maybe have a broom?' asked Ron carefully, hopefully.

Mrs Weasley suddenly stopped moving and her smile became slightly pinched. Broomsticks had never been cheap and the Weasleys were always struggling month after month for money.

'Not a really good one, just a new one for a change. A Cleansweep maybe? There is a new one out that didn't seem so bad, but any, really,' said Ron quickly, trailing off as if awaiting the inevitable 'no' from his mother.

There was a slight pause, but Mrs Weasley smiled and kissed the top of his head. 'Of course you can. I'll have a look when I go to get the books.'

Fred and George jeered a moment more after their mother left the room before apparating back upstairs. It hardly seemed to concern Ron, who brushed Hermione's furious complaints of them aside, eagerly returning to his own room to make room in his trunk for his new broomstick. Harry remained slumped in his chair and Hermione admired her new badge with a look of glee, as if she had thought there was a possibility she might not have received it.

'Congratulations, Hermione,' said Cassy. 'I suppose this means you will stop your excursions with us now then?'

'There will be no excursions to be had,' said Hermione, staring at her sharply with her head still inclined.

'What are you going to do? Take points?' teased Ginny.

'Of course I will if you break the rules,' said Hermione.

'She will have given up by Christmas,' said Cassy flippantly. 'Say, Ginny, do you know if Prefects can take points from themselves?'

'Oh? I haven't thought about it before. I suppose we'll find out,' replied Ginny, her hand going to her chin thoughtfully.

'Absolutely not,' said Hermione flatly. 'Harry, do you mind if I borrow Hedwig? I want to write to my parents. I mean, they don't know a lot about magic, but they'll understand this.'

'Sure!' said Harry, his voice so cheerful and bright it would have been impossible to have discerned it was him if they had not been looking at him. 'Congratulations. It's great, perfect even. You must be happy.'

'Thanks,' said Hermione. She slipped from the room, casting a raised eyebrow at the other girls, who turned back to Harry with varying looks of wariness.

'I'm going to find Sirius,' he said, still terribly cheerful.

The kitchen door shut again. After a few seconds of silence, Cassy sighed. She would rather let him sulk by himself over a matter he had never cared for than to indulge the behaviour. He had expected it and why Cassy was unsure, because it was not as though Harry had ever expressed any interest. He was not even willing to do his homework on time, let alone take charge of extra responsibilities and he certainly had no intention of interacting more than he needed to with people outside of his friendship group. Try as she might, Cassy was incapable of understanding his train of thought just then. Soon, she stopped trying and resumed playing chess in her room with Ginny. Crookshanks sat with them, his yellow eyes watching in fascination as the tiny people rose and tore one another to pieces.

By dinner, Harry appeared to have calmed somewhat. He and Ron had finally finished packing and his voice, much to everyone's relief, had returned to its usual low tones than the sprite cheers of before. Tonks, Remus, Kingsley, Mrs Longbottom, Neville, and even Moody arrived for the meal and Butterbeers were spread between them as everyone arranged themselves in their regular pattern with the exception of Ron and Hermione. Mrs Weasley positioned them side by side, sitting with a large, scarlet banner above on the wall behind reading:

Congratulations

Ron and Hermione

New Prefects

With a blinding white flash, a photograph was taken of the scene. With a low whirring, the camera churned out a polaroid picture, that she flapped in her hands for a moment before beaming down at it warming.

'Straight in the photo album, I think,' she said, pocketing it in the front of her apron. 'I've let your dad and Bill know. They're coming back straight after work.'

Her good mood did not even decline when the arrival of the two Weasleys also brought along one Mundungus Fletcher. She simply waved down another chair from the upstairs dining room and slotted him on the end beside Fred and George, who looked ecstatic to see him again.

'Dumbledore must think you can withstand all the trouble being a figure of authority will bring. Curses and hexes will come flying your way, but if you couldn't withstand them then you wouldn't be appointed,' said Moody, raking his eyes over Ron slowly, looking as though he was trying to re-evaluate him based on this new development.

Ron stared in shock and Hermione nudged him under the table, urging him to reply.

'Ah, Alastor, I have been meaning to ask you,' said Mrs Weasley, pausing to lean on the table with one hand, 'there is something in the drawing room writing desk. I thought it might be a Boggart, but you can never tell with this place.'

Moody's magical eye swivelled upwards for a second, revolving back into his skull before he nodded. 'It is a Boggart. Do you want me to get rid of it, Molly?'

'Oh, no, that's fine. I can do it myself later. I just thought I'd make sure,' she said.

Soon, the food was spread across the table and everyone was reaching over one another to fill their plates. A short cough interrupted and Mr Weasley raised his bottle of Butterbeer, requesting a toast for Ron and Hermione. Drinks were raised and clinked together as everyone repeated their names. Hermione and Ron beamed and soon everyone was back to manoeuvring through arms and bumping elbows in an effort to get at the dish farthest away from them. Cassy, who settled for whatever dishes Tonks snatched and passed to her, had formed a rather strange collection of food on her plate, but considered it a triumph she had managed to get any at all with all of the stabbing forks.

Conversations broke out in tiny pockets all across the table. Tonks, Neville, and his grandmother had begun a curious conversation about Neville's parents being Aurors. Neville's eyes were fixed to Tonks, wanting to hear everything she had to say about the work, while Tonks wanted to know more about them, treading carefully around the formidable matriarch.

Mrs Weasley and Bill were discussing Bill's long hair as she tried once again in vain to persuade him to allow her to cut it. Ginny was unhelpful in aiding her mother, saying Bill looked 'cool' instead.

Hermione and Remus were discussing house-elf rights, while Harry, the twins, and Fletcher seemed to be discussing something beneath their breath, occasionally glancing at the others. Cassy's eyes had long since glazed over as Ron spoke about his broom. She understood very little about them and her interest was so minuscule that she had not absorbed a single word he had said. Sirius, on the other hand, was nodding and discussing the old brooms they had to work with when he played Quidditch.

Not long later, Mrs Weasley let out a large, loud yawn.

'I'm going to go and deal with that Boggart and retire for the night. Arthur, make sure these lot aren't up too late. I don't want any trouble in the morning,' she said, kissing him briefly before leaving.

Cassy turned to Harry, frowning slightly as he eyed the doorway longingly. Fred and George had disappeared at some point and Fletcher had returned to piling his plate with food. Before she could reign in his attention, Moody had shuffled around the table, taking residence in the empty seat beside him. Fletcher choked on his potato, but no one paid him any attention. With a crooked smile, Moody pulled a small, flat object from his inner pocket and held it out to Harry. From the slight flashes of colour on the opposite side, Cassy assumed it to be a photograph. She could not hear their conversation, but Harry did not smile back at him. As Moody pointed repeatedly at the photograph, Harry's expression only became grimmer, until his lips were pressed into a thin white line. It suddenly relaxed as Moody stopped talking, the quiet startling him from whatever thoughts he had delved into. Then, his chair scraped backwards and Harry hurried from the room, still wearing the forced, wonky smile.

Moody did not seem to mind as Sirius called his attention over, curious for the picture, but Cassy did not remain long enough to see if it would be passed around. With a scowl, Cassy traipsed up the stairs after him, planning ahead the words she wanted to use. There was no excuse for Harry's foul mood. He was being jealous for no reason and she wanted to know, to understand, exactly where it had come from. He had been pleasant and jovial in the last few weeks and it had unravelled before she had even had a chance to see it happening. It was no need to be so rude to Moody though.

Cassy's internal rant was cut short as she turned onto the first floor. In the doorway stood Harry, wide-eyed and obviously not sobbing. Silently, Cassy joined him, sparing enough time to glare up at him before eyeing the crying figure warily. She froze. On the floor with her head in her hands was Mrs Weasley. Her shoulders shook heavily, tears slipping between her fingers as a horribly choking erupted from her mouth with every breath. In front of her was Ginny, her eyes glazed and her freckled skin ashen.

Cassy opened her mouth and took a step closer. Ginny was downstairs, she had just seen her in the kitchen, unless she too had slipped from the room when her back was turned.

No, thought Cassy sharply. Ginny was still downstairs and this was a Boggart. It had to be, or else Harry would not be standing so still beside her.

'Mrs Weasley,' she called firmly, 'it is not real. Ginny is fine.'

There was another shaky sob before it cracked again and it was Mr Weasley, his glasses broken and his face mottled with bruises, his shirt coated thickly in blood.

Footsteps sounded behind them and Cassy instinctively moved aside to allow Remus to shoot past her. Sirius darted in after him and Moody strode past, flicking his wand and sending the creature back into the desk where it had come from.

'It was just a Boggart,' cooed Remus softly.

'I – I see them d-dead all the time. All of them, every one of the kids. W-what if Arthur and I am killed? Who will look after Ron and Ginny? Half the family is in the Order and if Fred and George had their way...' Mrs Weasley continued to cry, but she was desperately holding it in, dabbing her eyes with her apron.

'We have a head start this time, Molly, so don't think like that,' said Remus sharply.

'No one will be picked off this time,' said Sirius bitterly. 'And as for Ron and Ginny, we would hardly let them starve. I think their siblings would have an issue if we did. I imagine Bill would cause a storm.' He smiled somewhat and Molly nodded, the edges of her lips lifting crookedly.

'I'm just being silly, that's all,' she said with a sniff.

As they spoke, Harry had backed out of the room and without hesitation Cassy followed him down the hall. A hand rose to his forehead, scrubbing across it roughly.

'What is wrong with you?' asked Cassy. The sudden voice made Harry jumped. He had clearly expected to slip away unnoticed and he was unable to hide the disappointed scowl flickering across his face as he turned.

'Nothing,' he snapped.

'Really? Why are you so angry and why are you rubbing your scar?' she questioned, her own scowl contorting her face.

'None of your business!' he growled. Quickly, he pulled open his bedroom door and slammed it shut behind him. There was no turning of the key, he was unable to lock Ron out for the night after all, it would be easy to barge inside and demand answers, but Cassy did not take another step towards him. Instead, she slammed shut her own door, making sure it was loud enough to rattle their shared wall.

Cassy did not have time to put up with his whining. She did not have the patience. She did not have the will to work through all of the problems whirling through his mind, half of them undoubtedly self-created in some need to feel bitter about his position, when really he should have been relieved he was returning to the castle tomorrow. He had never wanted to be Prefect and he had never wanted to be alone, yet he was managing to feel jealous and alienate everyone all in one move.

It would be simpler if she could spend the rest of her life in solitude, with only her own mind as a companion. At least then she would be ensured good company.

He can come to me about it then, she thought bitterly, spreading her arms wide across her double bed. She sunk into the soft duvet, glaring holes into the white ceiling above. Let him drown in his own thoughts if he wanted to. No one had let her and there would have been nothing she would have liked more than to spend the last six weeks entrapped in her own crushing thoughts, to be swallowed by her own feelings and to never see a smiling face. No one had let her. She was called each time she spent too long out of sight. Keeping busy did nothing but delay the feelings, it pushed them out of mind and out of sight, but when they resurfaced, they were always stronger than before. The only one who seemed to understand was Sirius.

Alphard would not have called her. He would have let her mind herself. If Alphard were alive, she would not have to, a voice repeated over and over again in her mind.

Had Cassy not gone to the Quidditch World Cup last summer then Alphard would have been alive. Except she had. She had gone to see her friends and to be part of a wonderful surprise for the very boy who had just slammed a door in her face and told her to mind her own business. Being kind had achieved nothing at all for her, except an unwavering ache in her bones each morning. It had been just over a year since Alphard had been injured. It had been ten weeks and five days since he had passed.

Cassy's eyes burnt.

A loud knock sounded at her door. Cassy's eyes reached up to her face, her palms digging into her eyes to stop the hot welling within them. The door knocked again. She breathed out a deep breath. A third and final knock rang through. Silence followed and Cassy waited for the footsteps to disappear back down the hall. Her door opened.

Cursing herself inwardly, Cassy quickly sat up. She turned to the door, her expression dangerously flat as she eyed the red-head who popped her head through it.

'Cassy?' asked Ginny. 'Are you all right?'

'I am fine,' said Cassy, her voice calmer and stronger than she felt by far.

'You didn't answer the door,' said Ginny.

'I know,' said Cassy. There was a slight pause. 'Is there something you needed?'

'I was going to ask you if you wanted to play Gobstones with us downstairs,' she said with a slight frown.

'I am really tired, actually. I think I will just get an early night, lest I be irritable on the train tomorrow,' said Cassy, forcing smile that appeared so genuine Ginny was smiling back.

'Yeah, okay. Well, goodnight,' she said, before she closed the door again.

Cassy waited until the sound of her footsteps were completely gone and then rose to turn the key in her door. With a deep sigh, she resumed her position on the bed. Hours passed and she lay there. Silent and unmoving, she stared at the ceiling, staring past it even, as her eyes glazed over and the images in her mind took over her sight. She feared she had stumbled across a dangerous line of thought; one she had tried to avoid for the past few months.

She had never been foolish enough to assume Alphard would be by her side forever, but she had expected a few more years. She had expected him to at least see her become the success he had always told her she was capable of; she had expected him to see her grown and to graduate; she had expected him to be alive long enough to teach her the secrets of the Black family, all of the tricks of the trade and introduce her to the connections that made it all possible all of those years. Yet, expectations were made to be broken. He would not see her graduate, or excel in her career; he would not get to give her a boost in life as promised and he would not get to teach her any more of his little life lessons she had held so dear for so many years. Cassy would have to do it by herself. She would have to work it all out by herself.

Perhaps, she thought as he limbs ached with a desire to finally sleep, that was why she was so excited to be returning to Hogwarts. It was frustrating to be surrounded under constant supervision, told what she could and could not do all the time by people she hardly knew. She had been forced to clean from dawn until dusk each day, spending her waking hours with people who had all shared the same daily experiences. Conversations had often run dry and their presences wore and rubbed roughly against one another from prolonged exposure.

At Hogwarts, she would be over looked. She could work out her own vision, the path that she wanted to take without being ordered from left to right. She could escape those who irritated her in the vast castle landscape and find time for herself amongst the bodies of noisy students. No longer would she be stuck inside day after day, repeating the same chores and actions, the same conversations to the same faces. She would get to work on her future. She would get to work it out and she needed all the time she could give herself to make up for what she had lost, for what she missed more than anything.

As she finally closed her eyes, still in the clothes she had worn that day, Cassy's final thought was that she should invest in a book on Occulmency. It would stop those traitorous thoughts rising and she rather fancied herself her best company at that moment. Besides, she thought, it would make a much needed hobby.

I thought Harry was a bit unnecessarily moody over the badges. At no point did he even seem like he cared before Ron got it. Cassy is a bit irritable about it because Harry does become a bit of a nightmare teen in some of these instances. He needs to learn to express things a little more and just admit he's mad at Dumbledore and much of his anger would be gone by Christmas!

Thankfully, Cassy's on her way out and back to Hogwarts, but whether that's really a good thing you'll have to find out.

Also, the next few chapters need some tweaking. I wrote them in bulk a while ago and reading them back I can't help but ask myself why I thought some of it was a good idea. My characterisation of Cassy went out the window for bits of it and I hate three of the chapters quite a lot. So I need to re-write them. I will try and do it quickly, but they are important ones in the progress of my plotlines.

Thanks!