C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

Chapter XVI: We move in opposite directions

Brightly coloured sweets of every flavour rattled in the paper bag in Cassy's hands. She dipped in and out of it, popping more of the sugary treats into her mouth. It did not matter that the clock had only just past five a.m, or that the Sun had yet to rise over the hillside. She wandered down the spiral staircase, already dressed in her school uniform with her hair tied back in a fishtail braid and pulled over her left shoulder.

The fire crackled noisily in the silence of the common room. Cassy walked by the scarlet sofa, before she paused and reversed her steps. She peered over the back of the chair and down at the lanky form that lay on the cushions. Hair messier than usual and his glasses skewed, Harry Potter lay sound asleep.

Silently, Cassy moved to the edge and sat on the arm of the sofa. She stared at him for several long moments. After a while it seemed as though the theory that someone could sense a stare and wake up did not really work, or at least Harry did not care if Cassy stared, so instead she leant over to pluck the book from his stomach where it lay open.

Suddenly, his green-eyes opened and he stared up at her dark blue-eyes for a moment with no reaction. Then, as her eyebrows drifted upwards he yelped and shot up, narrowly missing butting heads as Cassy darted backwards just in time.

'Morning,' drawled Cassy.

'Cassy!' he marvelled.

She did not say anything more and instead eyed his creased uniform with interest.

'Ah,' he said, his spine popped as he stretched, 'Dobby was about last night, I could hear him from my room. I spoke to him and it turns out he's been cleaning the Tower alone because of Hermione's knitting. None of the other elves want to clean it.'

'I bet she will love that,' scoffed Cassy.

'Don't look so happy. If anyone's telling her it will have to be you. She loves knitting for them,' said Harry. He dipped his hand into the bag of sweets in Cassy's hand. 'Anyway, he was wearing about six sets of everything and I mentioned to him about needing somewhere to meet. He said on the seventh floor opposite the tapestry there is a door that will appear when someone passes that needs something. He reckons if we go there it will give us a room to practise in.'

Cassy raised her eyebrows high onto her head in fascination.

'I was thinking of asking everyone to attend tonight at eight. Most people haven't got their clubs reinstated yet and no one below third-year signed up, so we have until nine before we have to be back,' he suggested.

When Harry excused himself to change his uniform, Cassy read over the essay he had dropped on the floor from the night before. Most of the last paragraph was jumbled sentences and misspelt words. She smirked down at the paper when she heard Harry approaching. He snatched the essay from her hands and scrunched it up into his pocket.

'I don't even want to know what that says, thank-you,' he grumbled.

She laughed and he helped himself to more sweets. The two sat by the fire until other students began to wake and drift into the common room. It was not until breakfast that Harry told Neville, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna of his plans. They each nodded and said they would help take care of finding the other members through the day to let them know. Word had spread through the Gryffindors by the time breakfast was over and Luna promised to make a start on the Ravenclaws during her break next period.

Cassy slipped a note into Astoria's pocket as she passed in the corridor, ensuring to tug it just enough to catch her attention. Before Luna had a chance to catch him, Cassy also cornered Stephen and managed to find Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot on the way to their next class. Ginny found her boyfriend and his friends, while Neville spread the word to the rest of Hufflepuff. By the end of dinner, they were certain that everyone knew when and where to meet.

Cassy, Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna left early from their common rooms and met at the staircases on the fourth floor before making their way to the seventh. Despite having told everyone they had a place to practise, none of the six had had the time to actually test Dobby's story. They arrived opposite the tapestry and to the surprise of no one, faced a large, blank wall. They each stared at it, thinking hard, but nothing seemed to happen.

'I would still like to visit the Shrieking Shack,' said Cassy conversationally, as Hermione paced back and forth in front of the wall.

'Same,' said Harry. 'We should go their next Hogsmeade visit, if Umbridge doesn't ban me or something.'

'She's currently in her office,' said Neville, holding the Marauder's Map. 'Filch is on the second floor.'

'You do know the Shrieking Shack is forbidden, right?' said Hermione. She frowned up the wall.

'So?' said Harry.

'It's supposed to be the most haunted place in Britain, it's not somewhere you two can run off to because you're bored,' she said, throwing a flat stare over her shoulder.

Harry shrugged. 'There are ghosts all around Hogwarts. What difference does it make?'

'Besides, they cannot be any worse than Peeves,' added Cassy.

'We're going to have to hold meetings there soon enough if we don't figure out this door,' interrupted Ginny. She stood with her hands on her hips as she scrutinized the stone.

Luna skipped forward to Neville's side. 'Maybe there are too many of us thinking different things.'

'So we should all think the same thing at the same time?' questioned Neville.

Luna nodded and everyone glanced between one another. They fell silent and stared hard at the wall, each pushing forward the thought of the room they expected to see. Somewhere to train themselves, they each thought simply, somewhere secret.

Sure enough, the wall began to shift. A wooden door appeared in front of them. A brass handle protruded from the centre of it.

'Brilliant, Luna,' praised Cassy.

'It's common sense, really,' she said lightly in return.

Harry was the first one to the door. He peaked around the door's edge, before throwing it open for the rest of them to see. Large, coloured cushions littered the ground in tiny nests and bookcases filled to the ceiling lined the walls. Dim torches and a large chandelier lit the room, windows absent but bright enough. Sneakoscopes and Secrecy Sensors sat on the farthest desk, and right in the corner was a Foe-Glass. There was a large floor space and mirrors hung on one wall, next to wooden dummies and a straw target.

'It is fantastically spacious,' said Cassy, 'the kind of room I needed to teach Harry to dance.'

'Oy.' Harry flushed a faint pink and Cassy laughed under her breath.

'What excellent books,' came Hermione's voice from the far side.

'Do you think the others will see the door on the outside? Do you think it vanishes when we're in her?' asked Ginny.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A head of flaming orange-hair poked through the crack before Ron, Dean, Pavarti, and Lavender entered. They marvelled at the space as much as the first six had and once the door was closed there was another knock and another bundle of students piled inside. Within minutes, the entire group had gathered, all eager to be on time. Cassy stood beside Harry, counting the heads. She nodded to him, but before Harry could speak, Hermione cleared her throat.

'Just to be sure. I want everyone to vote on who they think the leader should be, just so there are no fights about it later,' she said, drawing in everyone's attention.

There was a slight murmur, but as Hermione requested, everyone put up their hand in favour of Harry, even Zacharias Smith.

'We need a name,' said Cassy. 'We need something that we can refer to that will not bring attention to us. Does anyone have any thoughts?'

There was a buzz of thought amongst the group. Everyone murmured to themselves, before Chang called out: 'How about the Defence Association. We can be the DA for short.'

Even Cassy, who would rather like to disagree on principal the idea had come from Cho Chang, saw the benefit of a nickname and was not entirely averse to being dubbed the 'DA'. It was short and could stand for many things. In the end, she did not have to protest, because Ginny shook her head.

'What about "Dumbledore's Army" instead? It's what the Ministry fears most, isn't it?' she offered and there was a surge of agreement.

'All right,' said Harry, 'Dumbledore's Army; the DA for short.'

Hermione scribbled the new title on the top of the list of attendees she had pinned to the wall.

Cassy felt a bubble of excitement rise in her stomach. Not only were they finally beginning to take charge of themselves, but their association had a meeting place, members, and a name. The only thing they lacked specifically was a smooth, secret form of communication, but Cassy thought to mention that to Hermione later. Now that they had met for the first time, a rebellious flare sparked in her and she almost outwardly beamed at the concept of having their own version of the Order of the Phoenix, no matter how juvenile it might be.

'I thought we'd begin with disarming charms,' said Harry. 'Expelliamus has saved my life more than once.'

'Like that's going to work against You-Know-Who,' snorted Smith.

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'It does. I used it last year and I'm still here.'

Smith pursed his lips, but remained silent.

'Right, so if you want to get into pairs to practice with, we can get started.'

'Perhaps you should give them a demonstration first,' whispered Cassy, leaning close to Harry.

'Er – right, hang on everyone. Me and Cassy will demonstrate first and then you can split off,' called Harry. He drew his wand and backed away as everyone turned back to attention. He cleared his throat, flustered and began to pace away from Cassy. She did the same, putting twelve wide steps between them.

'Okay, so Expelliarmus is just a simple sharp jerk of your wand. It doesn't need a specific motion beyond that,' explained Harry. 'For example, Expelliarmus!'

Cassy did not move. She allowed her wand to be flung from her hand, where Harry caught it effortlessly on the other side of the room.

'Cassy, do it back to me,' said Harry as he handed it back.

Cassy flicked her wand. 'Expelliarmus.'

Harry's wand flew towards her. She caught it and Harry shook his hand.

'That stung,' he hissed. 'Depending on the power put in the spell, it can actually cause injury. It can break their hand, even render them unconscious. For now, I just want you guys to practise disarming. We don't really have any healers.'

'I can heal toes,' offered Luna airily.

'Er – great, Luna,' said Harry slowly.

Luna stood with a serene smile on her face, as though very proud of herself. Ginny grinned beside her and Hermione huffed.

With faces of doubt and scepticism directed at the short, blonde girl, everyone separated out into groups. Harry pushed Cassy, Neville, and Hermione together so he could wander amongst the group. The room was filled with shouts and flying wands. Neville snapped the command, but nothing happened. He frowned down at his wand.

'It's all right,' said Hermione. 'Just try it again.'

Neville waved his hand and a slight buzz shot through Cassy's hand. Her wand was still held firmly within it. He tried again and again. Hermione looked nervously at Cassy as Neville became more and more desperate. Part of Cassy expected Hermione to drop her wand in pity, but they both held fast. Hermione focused her attention on giving advice and tips to him, how to better the motion, or the intent of his spell; none of it seemed to make a difference.

As wands flew all around them, Neville had not caused a single one by the time Harry called an end to the meeting. Many beaming faces shone through the crowd, several almost skipping as they fled from the room in the tiny groups Harry let slip through the door. The map was hidden at his side; Professor Umbridge was in her classroom and Filch was patrolling the Dungeons.

Astoria flashed her eyebrows at Cassy as she left, mouthing for her to wish her luck. Cassy had no worries whether Astoria would get back all right. Neither points deducted or a detention would deter her and even then Cassy was sure if her friend tried hard enough she would get by unnoticed anyway.

Instead, Cassy turned her attention back to Neville. Harry was already at his side with a hand on his shoulder as the fifth-year Gryffindors all slipped into the hall together. He was muttering lowly into Neville's ear with a faint smile on his lips, but Neville had long since deflated and it seemed to be doing little good. Deciding not to overwhelm him with sympathy – it would only make Neville sink further into himself mistaking it for pity – Cassy set her sights ahead.

Walking in front and to the side of her was Dean. Ron had vanished with Hermione, opting to at least make it appear as though they had done their Prefect rounds that night, so Dean walked alone. It was not that he was alone that caught her attention, nor the way his feet were half-a-step slower than usual, or how his hands were stuffed in his pockets, which could be many things, but rather the slight tensing of his jaw and the way his wand jutted from his pocket oddly, suggesting it was still somewhat clenched in his hand.

Cassy took two quick steps forward and peered up at him.

'Are you all right?' she asked.

'Fine,' he said with a sudden grin.

Cassy raised an eyebrow. 'Liar.'

'Really,' he insisted. When Cassy continued to stare at him, he sighed heavily. 'I am just glad we're doing something to defend ourselves.'

'You do not seem very glad,' she commented.

'I am, truthfully. I just... I'm angry that Umbridge's stopping us. If You-Know-Who has returned then a lot of us are in danger,' he admitted, frowning once more.

'Are you afraid?' she asked.

'I'm not sure. Are you?'

Cassy was quiet for a moment. She did not know if she was afraid. She had not thought about it and could not recall feeling frightened since she had heard the news. Somehow, that did not cover her feelings though. Looking ahead, she quietly confessed, 'I suppose. I fear losing people. I fear for my friends and what will become of us all when he makes his move. Right now though it hardly seems relevant, does it?'

'It's hard to image he's out there. Nothing's in the news, just some missing people from what Ron's said,' said Dean, knowingly.

'You have not been keeping track of it yourself?' asked Cassy in mild surprise.

'I stopped getting the Prophet when Skeeter started printing that stuff about Harry last year. I wonder where she went, actually.'

Cassy refrained from grinning. 'I am sorry, you know, for not speaking more over summer. It was difficult for me.'

'Difficult?' he asked with a frown.

Cassy pursed her lips. 'My Great Uncle died.'

'Oh!' exclaimed Dean in shock. 'I'm sorry, I didn't know!'

Cassy waved her hand dismissively. If Dean did not get the paper then he would probably not know and even then he had no need to read the obituary.

'Is that why Hermione's so worried about you?' he questioned.

'She is?' Cassy asked suspiciously.

'She asked me if we'd spoken and how you were,' he explained. 'I said we hadn't talked since the beginning of term.'

Cassy pursed her lips and said, 'Sorry. I should have made more of an effort. It is just that I was so busy last year trying to make sure Harry got through the tournament and with personal things occurring, things just got the better of me. That's not an excuse, of course. I should have made time.'

So caught up in her unintended rudeness towards her friend, it took her a moment to realise Dean had laughed. Confused, she peered up at him from beneath furrowed brows, while he stared back ahead with a hand ruffling his tight, black-hair.

'To be honest, I avoided you myself a little after Christmas,' he confessed. Cassy took a moment to almost feel offended, but he continued before she could ask. 'I quite fancied you then. I was going to ask you to the ball, actually. Then you began dating that Ravenclaw guy and I just... yeah, so, I'm sorry for that.'

'Ravenclaw? Stephen? Stephen and I are not dating,' said Cassy slowly, squinting. 'We never have.'

'Really?' said Dean, shocked.

'Why would you have that impression?' asked Cassy incredulously.

'Dunno. You talk a lot, you're both smart and attractive. General things.' He shrugged.

'I will have to tell him you think he's attractive,' smirked Cassy.

Dean shrugged again. 'Tell him, I don't care.'

Cassy laughed and he laughed with her. She had not spoken to Dean in person in so long that she felt it should have been awkward, but instead conversation came easily and she very much regretted not finding time for him last year. He would have been a good friend to have over the summer if she had just tried a bit harder.

'You said you used to like me, so does that mean you like someone else now?' asked Cassy slyly.

'I don't have to fancy anyone.' He shrugged.

Cassy smirked and narrowed her eyes. 'That is true, but I can tell you do, so go on.'

Dean remained stubbornly silent. His head remained forward and his lips were pursed comically into a deep grimace.

Cassy cocked her head to one side. 'Is it Seamus?'

Dean chocked. Cassy chortled loudly and Lavender and Pavarti turned to watch the pair curiously.

'What? No,' he laughed. 'If you must know, it's Ginny.'

'Ginny?' repeated Cassy with interest. She paused for a moment then snorted. 'Ron will kill you.'

'I know.'

The next morning, Cassy was reading the Occulmency book when Hermione shot up from her bed. There had barely been a second between her opening her eyes and her darting to rummage beneath her bed. She grunted noisily as her bushy hair fell in her face, obscuring her vision of the already darkened space.

Whatever it was that had Hermione so energised before dawn was apparently written in the crinkled pages of a thick, leather-bound book. She heaved it onto the red covers and Cassy turned her head, trying to read the cover from where she lay on her own bed.

Hermione turned to her suddenly. She blinked and then scowled. 'Go to sleep!'

'Hypocrite,' answered Cassy placidly.

'Honestly, I am starting to think you might as well be some sort of vampire. If you are up then at least don't be so lazy.' Hermione eyed to book hovering above Cassy's face. Her hands were tucked snugly beneath her blankets, her dragon-heartstring wand loose in her grip to keep the book afloat and turn the pages without having to move.

'I don't want to sit up,' said Cassy simply.

Hermione shook her head. 'That still makes you lazy.'

'What is the book for?' asked Cassy.

'I just thought of how we can communicate more stealthily,' she said. If she noticed Cassy's expression flatten, she did not comment. Instead, she ran her finger down the rows of indexed pages. 'I thought about how You-Know-Who does it – I'm not suggesting we all go and get tattoos, but we can enchant objects the same way. Do you have any thoughts? You usually come up with something to disagree with me.'

Honestly, Cassy had not given it the slightest thought. When she had returned the previous night to the common room, she had buried her head in another one of the books from the Black Family library. The front was enchanted to look like the Muggle Studies text and with no one taking the class with her, no one thought it odd she had homework to do that night. Even when she had woken, her mind had returned to her Occulmency book tucked beneath her pillow.

'You expressed interest, I thought I would not interfere,' she lied. 'So, are you looking for the Protean Charm?'

'I am,' agreed Hermione distantly. 'It must be an older year spell.

She rapidly turned the pages of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Seven until she found the page she wanted.

'Are you free for the double this morning? Not got any plans?' asked Hermione eagerly.

'I am available,' agreed Cassy with interest.

'Good. We can probably get these done today!'

Breakfast was a short affair. In Hermione's eagerness to sort the details of Dumbledore's Army and Cassy want to confirm a seventh-year spell would be simple enough to master in two hours, the girls folded toast into tissues and stuffed them into their satchels. Harry and Neville watched them leave curiously, with no explanation given beyond the ambitious glint in the girls' eyes.

Thankfully, the library was empty as the clock struck nine. The pair huddled themselves at a desk far out of sight in a sparely trodden area of the library. It did not take long for Cassy to figure out exactly how Hermione had stumbled upon such a secluded table. There was no other tables in sight, perfect for them to try to design some sort of sign for the members without worries of oversight.

Cassy leant back on her chair. 'Do you still keep in contact with Viktor Krum then?'

'What?' asked Hermione.

'Krum. That is why you knew where to find this place right? Whether to avoid him or to meet him, I do not really care to know.' Cassy waved her hand.

Hermione turned her nose to the air and without appearing embarrassed at all replied, 'If you must know, we still write to each other occasionally. He's been pretty busy since he graduated. On to more important things, I thought maybe we could make the object a coin. That way it would be something people wouldn't think anything of if they found it. A Galleon, maybe. That way it's big enough to be read.'

'It will need to heat up or vibrate when the date is changed. Otherwise people will forget to look,' added Cassy thoughtfully. 'The numerals on the sides could change to be the date and time.'

Hermione nodded her head and began to spread the stack of books they had collected between them.

'We will need the master coin first and then twenty-nine more of them. The replication should be simple enough...' she muttered.

It took half an hour for the pair to work out the finer details of the coins. The weight, the shine, the markings. By the time they had Transfigured the Master coin to the point they were both satisfied – which was less bickering for once and more over-examination of a real Galleon versus their fake one – the bell sounded to signal the transition for the next class. Both Cassy and Hermione had firm frowns on their faces as they hurriedly packed away. They had spent so long on the aesthetics that they had not even managed to attempt the Protean Charm.

'Tonight,' amended Hermione as they raced down the corridor. 'We'll have it done by tonight now the hard part is done.'

Cassy did not reply. She opened her mouth to catch her breath as the pair stumbled to a stop at the end of the hall. Clothes were straightened out before they reached the Gryffindors and Slytherins waiting outside the dungeon classroom. The two lines stood apart on opposite sides of the door.

Class proceeded smoother than it ever had before. Professor Snape appeared to find Harry's essay acceptable and he received no more homework. The peculiar work dedication that had taken over Harry weeks before reappeared and Cassy again watched in fascination. Harry appeared to genuinely be putting effort into his work and Cassy could not think of any sort of correlation between the events while she sneaked sideways peaks every few minutes to see if his attention had waned yet.

'Where has this skill come from then? Potion making, I mean,' whispered Cassy once Professor Snape began chastising Goyle for dropping a whole rat's tail into his cauldron.

'Thought I might make an effort,' he murmured back. 'Problem?'

'None at all. I am impressed actually,' she admitted.

Harry grinned down at her. 'Good.'

Cassy's cheeks coloured the faintest bit, but Harry had already turned his head.

The good feeling did not fade as the day went on. Harry's brightened behaviour at his underground organisation had raised several eyebrows, yet no one had the heart to comment on it, silently thankful for the change of atmosphere. Cassy thought she had even caught Professor McGonagall smiling at him as she passed. Harry only served to boost Neville's own happiness. He beamed at the slightest occurrence, simply overjoyed he was making his grandmother proud as Harry had spent the previous night insisting, even if it was being part of a dangerous, secretive society.

By the second meeting, Cassy and Hermione had completed the Galleons. The session went much like the first, running over time and dispersing in small groups with the help of the Marauders' Map. It had become increasingly difficult to organise another meeting, however. Quidditch season was about to begin and with so many various players called for last-minute practice and ever changing arrangements, Harry had not had the opportunity to use his Master Galleon.

The Gryffindor team were up from dawn until dusk for their upcoming game. Johnson was worried, Harry had told them one day after a rigorous four hour session. Ron was saving less and less goals as the match against Slytherin drew closer. Word had spread of his miserable performance, although the team had tried to squash it, and many Slytherins had taken to sitting in the stands to watch and jeer each time Gryffindor entered the stadium. The chants and calls only unsettled Ron more. The more his missed, the more time they were forced to spend in practice and Harry was very sceptical he would see any of the Halloween Feast.

'The match is on Saturday,' he sighed. 'Angelina wants us practising non-stop until then, so I would be amazed if she let us grab more than a slice of toast on Thursday. I'll just have to stock up on breakfast instead.'

Many of the Quidditch team seemed to have the same idea and Cassy left breakfast on Halloween morning slightly paler at the sight of so many fighting, shovelling hands up and down the table. Harry had spent much of his meal trying to coax Ron to eat instead. He had turned stiff and silent in his seat, like a man awaiting his execution later that day.

Cassy patted his shoulder comfortingly as she left, entrusting him to Hermione's motherliness as she tried again to jab a waffle into his tightly closed mouth.

The first lesson of the day was Muggle Studies. Ernie Macmillan and Terry Boot turned to greet her and she nodded back, before they fell into a hushed conversation, careful to make it seem as though the interaction was inconsequential, accidental almost, as Cassy and Boot pretended to take an interest in Macmillan's literary club badge pinned to the front of his robe. The conversation fell away as it always did when they pretended to be strangers amongst the potential prying eyes of their classmates. However, after two weeks of fake introductions, Boot had even ventured to sit next to her in class. He had chosen the worst day to do so, for the rounded, toad-faced form of Professor Umbridge bustled into the room moments later.

Behind them, Macmillan groaned.

The class sat in a tense silence for a minute before Professor Burbage entered spiritedly.

'Good morning, Professor Umbridge,' she said brightly.

There was no verbal reply, but Cassy assumed her to be smiling sweetly in the corner.

To the credit of Professor Burbage, she paid no attention to her observer. She conducted the class with as much enthusiasm as ever and had brought an array of items from her personal collection to show and pass around as she always did. A muggle photograph was pinned to the wall beside a magical one, both of the same moment and woman, but only one moving and in her hand was a small devise Cassy recognised as a camcorder, the same model Harry had had on his desk in Privet Drive.

'Today's topic is the long awaited one of Muggle Entertainment!' announced Professor Burbage. 'Now, as you know this is an extension of our culture theme this term and there is little more influential in Muggle culture than this.' She pulled back a sheet from her desk to reveal a chunky, silver box with a black square centre. 'This, in case you have already forgotten from last week, is a television. Who wants to tell me about it then?'

There was little to be surprised by, Cassy found, in the continued study of Muggle media. She had seen a television working before and had watched several videos one with Hermione, so the in-depth explanation of a comparison to magical photographs and Muggle television was not one that captured her attention quite as much as her classmates. It was easy to see who had been raised with some Muggle exposure and those who had not by the ones who leant forward in their seats in anticipation and eagerness as Professor Burbage unravelled a video tape all over the floor.

Lists of genres of films were handed out with brief descriptions of the plots beneath each title. After a few moments of reading, a small cough sounded from the back of the class.

Cassy shook her head. She knew Professor Umbridge had been too quiet for too long.

'Professor,' said the High Inquisitor sweetly, 'do you really think it's appropriate to be including "Action" films on this list? After all, it is where lots of Muggles are thought to learnt their violent and barbaric habits from.'

There was a stunned silence.

'Well, I think it represents their struggles and fears. I mean, yes, it might be for entertainment some times, but I find them no different to the books and comics children read in our society. They are full of violence too,' spluttered Professor Burbage.

Professor Umbridge said nothing and scribbled down a note on her parchment. Cassy thought it would be no surprise of comics and books were banned the following day.

The silence was broken again when they turned to a section titled 'Horror'.

'Are you going to stress the realism in these themes?' asked Professor Umbridge, not even having bothered to cough. 'I am worried that these are not appropriate to discuss at this age. Many of these "supernatural" themes are common life for us, it is not important now to stress the secrecy of our culture?'

'I was going to,' insisted Professor Burbage. 'However, I stand by, children, that this is because there is not enough understanding of these themes and that is why they fear magic, so do not take these depictions too seriously – '

'In this… film they kill a witch for protecting her home. They stab her! That is a threat to be taken seriously,' insisted Professor Umbridge, shrilly.

'It would be in real life, yes – '

'Without secrecy this would be real life!' Professor Umbridge waved the handout. 'This, children, is why we have a secrecy law and those who break it are severely punished. Surely these films only serve to illustrate how Muggles cannot handle a Magical society? Do you not agree that there must be boundaries between us, Professor?'

Professor Burbage shrunk into herself. Meekly, she replied, 'Yes.'

Professor Umbridge shuffled her notes and picked up her quill once again with a small smile on her painted pink lips.

Boot caught Cassy's eye and they sneered at one another in mutual hate.

The interesting lesson vanished and was replaced with an unenthusiastic read-through of the types of films and the dangers of them. Not once did Professor Umbridge interrupt. She hummed and nodded in agreement often after that, smiling widely as the lesson was called to an end.

Everyone filed out quickly, eager to be rid of her, but as Cassy left, she heard Professor Umbridge's first follow-up question.

'Do you think having been exposed to Muggles as a child has damaged your view on society? Is your Muggle grandfather coping with you being a witch, or does he loath you?'

Cassy's nose crinkled. She knew that Professor Umbridge would most likely dislike Muggles, the Ministry would not send anyone else to prune untraditional practices, but she had not expected her to be so open about it. It was another trait for a long list of vile components that made up Dolores Umbridge.

It was not until after Potions that Cassy recited everything to Hermione. On any other day, the furious social justice rant would have been tiring, but Cassy welcomed it for a change. Uncaring of who heard, the pair continued the conversation through lunch and all the way to Ancient Runes until it dissolved into a competition who could form the best insult for their teacher without anyone realising their subject. Suddenly, Hermione groaned.

Cassy followed her gaze and their laughter halted. Outside of their classroom was the very topic of conversation.

'Oh, not now,' hissed Cassy. She had had enough of her for one day, she need not ruin another lesson.

'I thought she had already observed this one,' moaned Hermione quietly.

Professor Babbling cast a critical eye over Professor Umbridge once class had begun and never turned to her again as the lesson progressed. She paced between the desks, silently watching over them as they translated runes into English. Only the slight scratching of quills on parchment sounded in the tiny classroom. The chair occasionally squeaked as people shifted in thought, but no one spoke, their concentration was too valuable to waste on idle chatter. It was only when Cassy and Hermione spotted each other stealing mutual glances to check their answers that Hermione put up her hand.

'Yes, Miss Granger?'

'Professor, I was wondering something in relation to the context of these Runes. You see, I noticed when doing some extra reading that some of them overlap with Egyptian hieroglyphs, quite commonly, actually. So, I wondered how that was possible. Ancient Runes were supposed to be some of the most powerful means of enchantments, so why were they not better hidden?' asked Hermione.

Professor Babbling looked pensive for a moment before replying, 'Over time, the enchantments grew weaker with the lack of renewal in certain areas, particularly those where a majority of the magical community had vacated. It is possible, according to popular theorists, that Muggles with particularly strong senses of self and open-mindedness are capable of seeing through milder enchantments - ' There was a loud giggle from the back of the class, 'just like the occasional witch or wizard might be able to see through a Glamour Charm, or an invisibility spell.'

Hermione's nose turned slightly higher into the air and Cassy knew she was doing her best not to scowl at Professor Umbridge.

'Why is it not a valid theory that Wizards adopted Muggle signs? They were more obvious, given the lack of secrecy,' she asked.

Professor Umbridge giggled louder this time.

With sharp eyes, Professor Babbling turned to her and the class followed suit.

'Is something amusing, Dolores?' she asked coolly.

'No, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just having a moment to myself,' said Professor Umbridge, her lips pressed tightly together as if doing her best to hide her vile smile.

'Oh, no. Please share. I assume you have an opinion on the discussion. The Ministry takes an avid interest in the writing of our history,' drawled Professor Babbling. Her flat tone made it utterly transparent that she had no interest in hearing the other teacher's thoughts, but either Professor Umbridge did not hear it, or she simply did not care.

'I just find it impossible that anyone could assume wizards adopted something so founding in our society from Muggles. Isn't the history of Runes taught in the first lesson of third-year?' she sniggered. 'I mean no disrespect, Professor. I am sure your teaching is of standard, but this is why I do not allow discussions in my classroom. Students come out with the strangest of things.'

The last month of their lessons had stressed how Runes development and Muggle civilisations grew hand in hand. They were not to be considered separate things and several of the students were openly frowning. Hermione sucked in a deep breath and twisted in her seat.

'There is no reason why wizards should not respect and admire Muggle creations. We use many of their ideas and merely change them to suit our needs – '

'Miss Granger! I told you in my own class not to call out. You speak when spoken to. Another ten points from Gryffindor,' scolded Professor Umbridge, her eyes having narrowed into thin slits, lost on her wide face.

'Don't the Ministry have a fleet of Muggle cars though?' added Michael Conner from across the room.

Hermione turned to him gratefully.

'Mr Conner, that is enough,' interjected Professor Babbling. 'If you wish to debate, do so after class not while in it.'

'We never did receive an answer though, Professor. If the most narrow-minded of people wish to interrupt a valuable discussion then let them, but I do not feel as though it should impact on our education,' stated Cassy.

'Miss Black!' cried Professor Babbling.

A crunch rang out from the back of the room. Professor Umbridge had crushed her quill in her wrinkled fingers. A sugary smile pulled at her lips, her cheeks were rosy with a faint flow of disguised rage. The sharpness of her eyes only glinted more when Cassy turned to view her with disinterested, half-lidded eyes.

'That is quite enough,' said Professor Babbling quickly. 'Black, fifteen points from Gryffindor for your remark.'

'I think she should spend the evening with me, Professor,' disagreed Professor Umbridge softly. 'If she really wishes to know the development of the society in which she lives then I will teach her. Someone from the House of Black ought to have a deep respect for their heritage. Detention, Miss Black, for the rest of the week. My office at half-six tonight.'

Beside her, Hermione hissed. Cassy did not care about the detention at all, nor that she would miss most of the Halloween feast, or the scar it would leave on her skin; instead she revelled in the pure loathing on Professor Umbridge's face, proud to know it was her who caused such contempt. Suddenly, Cassy understood why Harry had been so eager to speak out. There was something satisfying about watching her squirm.

There was not nearly as much scolding from Hermione as Cassy had expected when the lesson finally ended. She had smacked her with her book the moment they rounded the corner, but besides that, most of Hermione's efforts had been given to loathing the new arrangement and the unjustness of it all.

'I'll have to get a new bottle of disinfectant soon,' muttered Hermione to herself. 'I used quite a bit on Harry's cuts, but I'll have enough for tonight and tomorrow. It should be here by Monday. What do you think you'll have to write?'

'Something about heritage, probably,' offered Cassy.

'If you had just left out one word – ' groaned Hermione.

'I am tired of it, Hermione. I am tired of everything all the time and frankly I do not need someone insulting my heritage on top of everything else at the moment,' said Cassy.

Hermione pursed her lips and look down at her as they came to a halt on the marble staircases, waiting to switch.

'Since when did you consider Muggles to be your heritage?' she asked carefully.

Cassy shifted slightly, not wholly aware of the answer herself. With a slight frown, she said, 'I suppose it was when the Slytherin's decided my Muggle heritage was something to be played upon and prayed upon. If I am not like them then I must be something else, that something else happens to be something I have always found interesting. If I was not, then I would not have been audacious enough to take Muggle Studies. Even if I know nothing of my Muggle relatives, I do not enjoy hearing about them as though they are a subspecies.'

Cassy was wary of admitting that the talk of her mother bothered her. She was not something to be ridiculed, or the cause of so much laughter. Yet, she could not readily defend her either, knowing next to nothing of how the condition had arose, or how she was when she met her father. The irritation last year at the article had arisen from humiliation, the curious stares of wonderment that Cassy was not a pure-blood, she was from the seemingly worst type of Muggle too, one of the many examples of why the Wizarding World could not be revealed to them, but this time it had evolved into something more. It was no longer humiliation, but Cassy could not quite put her finger on how she felt either.

'I am always angry,' she admitted quietly, meeting Hermione's eye at last. 'All the time.'

'Why though?' asked Hermione, a grim look of sympathy on her face.

Cassy shook her head. 'It will be fine. I will manage.'

'Cassy,' implored Hermione.

'I will manage. Don't worry about it, all right?' said Cassy, shooting her friend a half-smile.

It was clear from the look on her face that Hermione was doubtful, but she let the conversation die. The pair entered the Great Hall unnoticed by most, with only a few looks and waves and most eyes glazed over them in the crowd. The Head Table looked strangely empty with the exclusion of Professor Umbridge. She usually arrived early and left early, but she had yet to arrive, despite her eager departure from the classroom. Cassy privately considered she might be prepping her office for detention later, scheming for the best line to imprint on her skin for the rest of her life. She was unconcerned, more so than Hermione probably would have liked, but a scar on her hand was not something so terrible. While she would have been mortified years ago for marring her skin, there was something about it being because of the Ministry that Cassy found herself defiantly nonchalant about it.

Harry's scar was not that noticeable anymore, she thought as she watched him enter the hall dressed in scarlet and gold for his practice. If one was not looking then it was barely of any consideration.

'Hey,' said Harry, sliding into the seat opposite.

'Ready for practise? How's Ron? Is he feeling any better?' asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head. 'I passed him on to Fred and George in the common room. He was white as a sheet already and he usually waits until we reach the pitch for that.'

Greetings were given to Neville, Ginny, and Luna when they joined the table minutes later. Although Luna had been told to return to her own table several times in the past few weeks, she stubbornly remained with her friends and when it looked as though Professor Umbridge was about to stand to tell her to move, Professor Flitwick would rush to them instead, pulling the group into conversation that from a distance looked like a reprimand. Luna continued to eat her pudding as they spoke and the conversation only ended when they had all had their fill and the meal was over. He was cheerful and relieved, he admitted, to see Luna with good friends. He would not let it be ruined by unnecessary rules.

However, Professor Umbridge did not look at them as she entered the hall that night. She strode by them, smiling, and took her seat without a second glance.

Cassy cast a wary sideways look to Hermione. She returned it with pursed lips.

'I'll get some bandages,' she muttered.

'Wish me luck,' muttered Cassy. She rose from her seat and grabbed her bag from under the table.

'Where are you going?' asked Harry, breaking from his conversation with Neville.

'To the library,' said Cassy shortly. She needed to get a book for her Charms homework. The plan to have it done tonight was delayed, but she was determined to complete it before she went to bed that night because it was not as though she would have any more free time for the next week as it was.

'I need to get my broom from the common room, so I'll walk with you,' offered Harry, standing also.

There were only a few people lingering around the door of the Great Hall. The entrance hall was empty and the staircases were void of chatting students and prying ears. Cassy stole a glance at Harry. Lately, they had been spending more time together in the evenings. His detentions had ceased and his good mood meant the pair had yet to fight. It was almost back to how things had been before Voldemort was reborn, just silly and light-hearted. The only difference was that Harry had been attempting to put effort into his classes. He did not always manage. Often his attention waned and on more than one occasion Cassy had caught him playing noughts and crosses with Neville instead of making notes, but he was doing remarkably well considering and his grades, although never bad and usually irritatingly high for someone with such low ethic, were benefiting.

A small part of Cassy wondered if he was doing it for her. The first time he had put effort in was after she had mentioned Stephen's excellent grades, how impressed she had been with them. Perhaps she was being conceited, or seeing what she wanted to see, but the idea was impossible to shake.

The two came to a stop at the crossroads of their different destination. With thoughts swirling in her mind, Cassy plucked up the courage she had been trying to find again for weeks.

'Harry,' she called firmly. Her hands were scrunched into fists by her side. 'I have something I have been meaning to tell you for a while now.'

'Now?' he questioned. His head turned towards her, but his body was still angled to leave at first notice.

She frowned. 'If you need to leave then no.'

He shook his head. 'No, sorry. I was just surprised. You could have mentioned it earlier.'

Harry turned towards her, his head tilted to one side.

Cassy faltered.

Her arms were crossed across her head and her eyes were focused on Harry's shoes as she considered how to say what it was she needed to confess. Suddenly, it no longer seemed foolish to stutter and stumble like she had read or seen others do. It was a lot more difficult in person than she had anticipated. 'I…'

'If it's this difficult to say, then maybe you shouldn't tell me,' said Harry suddenly. 'Are you all right though?'

At the second interruption in her second attempt, Cassy felt her resolve crumble entirely. Her shoulders slumped lowly and she tightened her arms around her chest. A pinched smile was on her face as she finally peered up at his face.

'You are probably right. It was just me being stupid. Forget it,' she said quickly and flippantly.

Harry reached out for her arm, but Cassy evaded it.

'I apologise for holding you up. Have a good practice,' she said.

'Are you sure - ?'

'I am fine,' insisted Cassy.

'Right, well, Angelina will skin me if I'm not there soon. I'll speak to you later, okay?' he said. Harry shifted from foot to foot for a moment, his hands hung awkwardly by his sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Cassy nodded her head and strode away quickly in the opposite direction. Once she had rounded the corner, she groaned to herself, throwing her hand over her face. They were cool against her flushed cheeks. She cursed her own stupid decision. What a time and place to try and tell him. Of all moments, she had chosen the one where he needed to leave urgently. Although, it was not as though she had had a lot of choice lately. With the DA meetings and extra work in preparation of OWLs that year, she had not been left alone with Harry for more than a minute at a time before someone else cropped up. It was not as though she particularly felt encouraged to tell him either with Chang staring longingly across the hall at him every meal with her sudden interest in him.

Perhaps it is a sign from Morgana that I should just not bother, thought Cassy bitterly. Perhaps she did not want to hear it because he already knew what she was about to say. Her nose scrunched at such a foul idea. The idea was one that had been building in her mind for a time now though. Despite Cassy having liked to believe she had been very discreet in her feelings, she had begun to suspect otherwise. Neville had realised, oblivious and naïve as he was; Luna too, although Cassy was unsure if Neville had told her or Luna possessed keen eyes to fuel her bizarre philosophies. Then there was Hermione, who Cassy had caught giving her long, calculated looks when she thought she could not see her do so. Her eyes would drift to Harry thoughtfully afterwards and Cassy had few doubts that Hermione too had realised Cassy's feelings. With any luck, it was Harry and Ginny who did not know, being the two Cassy wanted to avoid telling, but she was doubtful of that now.

She twisted the ring on her right hand as she walked. Breathing out heavily, Cassy decided not to try again, at least not for a while.

'Evening, Black,' came a smooth voice.

Cassy lifted her head. Her features rearranged impassively as she turned to Shandy as he passed.

'Shandy,' she greeted.

'Not enjoying the feast?' he asked, stopping several feet from her. Cassy followed suit, half turned towards him.

'I could ask you the same thing,' she said.

'I have places to go and people to see,' he answered easily. He stopped walking and turned to face her.

'Don't we all?' She stopped too.

He smiled and glanced at the floor, before meeting her eyes again.

'I do not understand you,' he admitted. 'You don't quite fit anywhere.'

Cassy said nothing. She merely continued to watch him.

'You drift. You are a Black, yet you befriend Potter. You act like a Slytherin, yet are a Gryffindor. You are clever, yet do not utilize it. You could be popular, yet you remain closed. You are violent, I will not deny that, you have bursts of madness, certainly, foolishness, conceited, strong, vulnerable, and sly. I don't understand,' he revealed, listing the traits off on his fingers. 'Where is it you are trying to belong? It has been bothering me for weeks.'

'You are mistaken if you think I must act like my friends,' she said, coldly. Cassy was tempted to turn and walk away. The humiliation from moments earlier had yet to fade and facing detention was already going to be tedious enough.

'I do not think you could manage it if you tried. You are nothing like Potter, or Longbottom, or that Muggleborn girl – you know, I quite forget her name. You are a Black and it shows, although it's a shame you have to be a half-blood. Oh, do not look so annoyed at that. It's what you are, a half-blood. I suppose that's why you would never make the best Slytherin. Imagine what you could be capable of if you had been raised properly like one? You wouldn't have been held back so much by those who view you as less,' he commented thoughtfully. His eyes were curious, rather than malicious, but Cassy was growing irritated by his words anyway. She did not see the point in all this.

'We could be friends, you know, you and I,' he suddenly said.

Cassy had to stop herself snorting. Shaking her head, she stared incredulously. 'No. Not at all.'

'You never said "never",' he remarked and Cassy had praised herself on her tactful wording. Shandy was the type to remember such a strong dismissal, although she almost did not care. She could not see them being allies, let alone friends. She hated him.

'We could be though. You have proven you are strong enough, last year was quite enough, and the reason Malfoy is in the gutter of Slytherin House is because of you too. The rumours of him and a Muggle girl have caused quite a commotion. Some of the older students are enjoying the opportunity to have an advantage after years of him lording his father over them, but you already knew that would happen before you started them.

'It's a shame he does not associate with you any more. Everyone was ever so pleased when they heard. They had been telling him to get rid of you for years,' he drawled, his tone no longer nearly as pleasant. 'It is a pity Alphard died, isn't it?'

'Do not talk about it as if you knew him,' growled Cassy. 'I do not want to hear you use his name so casually!'

Shandy scowled at her. 'I was trying to be nice. You need me.'

Cassy laughed, offended by the ridiculous claim.

'Do you ever listen to yourself?' she hissed. Without realising it, Cassy had drawn her wand from her pocket.

'Still a sore subject is it? Is it because he did not care enough to put you in a good home? He sent you away in the end, to some crack-pot Blood-Traitors,' spat Shandy. His entire demeanour had changed.

'Heard that from Draco, have you? Draco, Draco, Draco! That is all anyone ever says anymore. I am tired of hearing his lies and seeing his smug little face. I am glad he is the bottom rung of his house, I hope his Death Eater parents are disappointed in the sheep of a son they raised,' snarled Cassy, her voice steadily rose louder. 'I live with an Auror and a good one at that. What does your family have? You are the third-born son of a weak new family whose influence depends on the favour of another House.'

'Don't speak of things you know nothing about,' sneered Shandy. His wand was drawn too.

'Why not?' cajoled Cassy. 'You do it all the time about me and my mother.'

'Your mother was frail and mental! There's not much to understand.'

The argument had become too heated. It was escalating too fast.

'Well, that is something we share, isn't it? Weak mothers! Yours could not even fight to stop her husband's affair,' laughed Cassy falsely.

A blue light shot towards her and Cassy deflected it with a curse of her own. It was a step further than she would normally have ventured. She had aimed for where she knew it would hurt, much like he had done to her without the slightest care of what would happen. She was tired of it. She was tired of the stares and the lies. She was sick of hearing 'Draco said' relayed back to her every other day with some sort of knew line in the every growing tale he was spinning. She despised the sight of the pink toad the Ministry had forced on them every day and night, unable to retaliate or disagree. She hated having to tell Tonks she was fine when she was not and she loathed not being able to face anything because she simply did not know where to begin anymore. She had had enough.

'At least I can claim some of my family cared for me. Your mother would not fight for your title as heir,' she continued. A warmth spread from her fingers to her toes, a buzzing began in her chest and for the first time in a while Cassy felt the excitement of adrenalin course through her veins. As she dodged another spell, she thought that she should not be enjoying it so much, insulting another, but when she considered everything Shandy had said and done over the past two years, she almost laughed at the absurdity of feeling remorseful.

'What does it matter if you had family that cared? You never involve them in personal matters, not when it can harm them. That is the most basic Wizarding code!' he snapped back.

'You don't have much of a family to involve, not one that would rise to defend you anyway,' shouted Cassy. She sent him another curse and he sent one back.

It had been popular rumour for a while that Shandy had lost his inheritance to his father's first child. He was a bastard, unmarried and the result of a young affair, the boy was seven-years Shandy's senior. Cassy had not seen a signet ring on his finger at the start of her third-year when they first met either. His next oldest brother, the only by full blood, was ill, confined to his bed for most of his time. The title was passed over him at first, having always been a sickly child. The latest rumour, Astoria had informed her eagerly, was that Shandy's father was still having relations with the eldest boys' mother, it had been in a back column of the Daily Prophet in the last summer.

'At least my mother knows how to survive, she is not a fool. Everyone who cared for you is gone and you are the only one to blame. At least I haven't killed my family,' hissed Shandy.

The room was suddenly far colder. Ice crept through her chest and down into her stomach. It seized her insides with a firm hand and squeezed her heart until it was difficult to breathe. Only silence rung in her ears. Her brain refused to function. She had heard the blame many times within her own head. She had got Alphard killed, she knew she had. She should have given him reason to stay at home, to believe she could take care of herself and that she would do the right thing and hide. She should have made him believe she was capable, but she had not. He had come for her anyway. She took a shaky breath, then another and another. Her hands balled into fists by her side. Her wand was gripped so tightly it might have broken.

Breathing deeply, Shandy let his shoulders slump. His wand lowered to his side and he took a step back. Cassy did not care how his head dropped to one side, or how he almost looked shocked with himself. There was no retracting the fire that had over taken the ice. There was no apology that could stop the trembling in her hands.

'You should not push me so far if you don't want to be hurt,' he muttered.

Cassy saw red.

'Manumors!' she roared.

A purple rope spouted from the tip of her wand. Shandy dodged suddenly. He slipped onto the floor, twisting to see the vine crash into the wall. It dethatched itself from the wand and fanned out into branches, thorns three inches long and as thin as pins covered it, helping it attach to the wall where it writhed and spread.

'What is that?' demanded Shandy. 'Black, what is that?'

The vines spread. The limbs moved and curled, dragging itself across the length of the wall and into a heap on the floor. The wall behind it was punctured, holes ripped away and scratches marked deep into the thick stone. It crumbled into dust and great chunks of brick.

Shandy was on his feet.

'Black!' he called again.

Slowly, Cassy turned to him. Her eyes had been fixed on the plant, the Hand of Death as she recalled. The way it turned and twisted was fascinating, alarming, and enthralling, but mostly concerning, because it was clearly making its way across the floor to them, destroying the ancient castle as it went. The illustration had not done it justice. Its skin was almost black, a deep purple shimmered across its barbed surface in light of the flickering candles scattered over the walls. A shriek sounded from somewhere within the mass of limbs, high, but low, as if two voices had echoed at once. It pierced her flesh and rattled through her stilled bones.

What a horrid sound, she thought distantly.

The mirror beside them cracked and crashed under the heavy grip of the creature Cassy had summoned.

'Bombarda!' called Shandy.

Cassy was shocked back to life when the creature screamed again, wailing at the small explosion. Its limbs crashed forward, reaching for them both with no discern between the target and the summoner.

Cassy raised her wand. In an instant it was gone. Only deep holes and thin scratches marked the hall now. Broken shards of the mirror lay scattered over the floor, oddly dull.

'Where has it gone? Black, what the hell was that?' snarled Shandy.

'Reparo,' muttered Cassy. The frame cracked back into place on the ground and the shards rushed to meet it. With another flick of her wand, it hung itself back on the wall. Several pieces were missing, most likely still trapped within the beast.

'Answer me!' growled Shandy and for the first time, Cassy looked and saw him. She did not just see the one calling her name, but rather took in his image, she took in his white skin and his wild eyes, the way his shoulders were stiff and how his feet were unable to remain in one place for too long.

'I…' Cassy frowned.

'Can't remember? Do you feel light headed, as if you were somewhere else entirely? I suppose your knees are weak and your heart is fast? That's because that was a Dark spell, Black. That creature, whatever the hell it was, used some of your life energy to summon and now your body is paying the price. It can send you into shock, or kill you outright, that is why it is Dark!' he stated sharply, his tone was one that would be used on a reckless child who had not considered the consequence of their actions. Cassy supposed she had not. She could not recall thinking much about it at all.

I did not mean to… I would never… she thought disjointedly.

Bile rose in her throat. Whatever she thought she would or would not do no longer mattered. What mattered was that she had and she almost killed them both for it. If Shandy had not dodged, she would have killed him instantly, but that was not what she wanted, it was never what she wanted, so why that spell would be the one on the tip of her tongue she could not imagine. She knew a hundred spells to make someone reconsider crossing her, two or three times that, in fact, yet she had not said any of those.

The rage that had built within her since September 1st was gone. It had been allowed to fester and grow within her chest, she had not faced it at all and this was the consequence of it. It was the result of her denial at her care for the Malfoys, for her dismissal of the want to defend her mother, and for Professor Umbridge's unbearable ways. She had lost her temper and she had almost lost her life for it.

'Just what have you been doing, Black?' he asked softly, the wariness in his tone not even disguised.

Cassy's face shifted suddenly. She turned to him with darkened eyes and her features set stonily. For a moment, she watched Shandy carefully as he halted again at the intensity of her gaze. Slowly, she parted her lips, choosing her words carefully, she said, 'Do not push me, Benjamin Shandy. Do not speak ill of my family, nor my friends, nor even myself, if you wish for a simple remainder of your school career. The Dark Arts are not my expertise, but I will only bend so far before I break and I would rather not have a repeat of that. Understood?'

Those books were fine, they were not the worst. They were ones she had skimmed over and flicked through for research. She never learnt how to cast them, she was certain of it. She had never tried to learn. Yet, the word had left her mouth somehow, instinctively maybe, just as the calculated sentence had trailed from her lips just then like a second nature. It was more confident that she felt; it almost made it sound as though she knew what she had been doing, but Shandy would know that was a lie. Her face had given it away in the few seconds she had reeled back in shock at her own hands. She meant what she had said though. If he tried to taunt her like that again, she would not curse him, but she would be sure to think of a hundred ways to make his life just as painful as hers.

Sharply, Cassy shook her trembling hands. She flexed them tightly into fists and when she relaxed them again, they were still and controlled. She raised her wand to the walls and floors. The Reparo did nothing for a moment, until the ground and walls slowly began to creak and grind softly as the brick careful started to turn in on itself, revealing clear, solid blocks once more.

'Where do you think it went?' asked Shandy.

'Wherever banished items go in this place,' breathed Cassy. She dreaded to think. She could hardly think, her mind was still distorted, as if running a second behind as it was. With a tired expression she asked, 'Why do you taunt me, Shandy? You know my temper is short.'

He was silent for a minute. 'I do not understand you. You are a bundle of contradictions.'

She could see that; she knew it, but to think someone would drive her to the brink of madness for a mere chance of figuring her out was absurd. It had all gone too far and neither knew what to do next.

'What is this?' came a voice from behind them.

Both the students whipped around, their wands shoved deep within their pockets instantly. Cassy almost slipped when she turned, the ground shifted with her and a ringing sounded through her skull, but she steadied herself with a few quick blinks and a well-placed step backwards. When she locked eyes with the owner of the voice her heart sunk even lower, although she had not thought it possible.

Shandy straightened up. 'Good evening, Professor Snape.'

Oh my, Cassy, what have you done?

I think it is Snape who at some point mentions that Dark Magic is absorbing and an easy trap to fall into. I imagine it to be the type of magic that will always be in the back of one's mind, ready to be used without conscious thought unless given proper distinction from everyday life.

The Black family are a bit notorious for their tempers, so while Cassy usually collects herself well, when she snaps, she snaps. No one can handle so much emotion without having a breakdown, only Cassy's doesn't appear to be tears.

As promised, this is a two part update, so very shortly the next chapter will be uploaded to see how it unfolds.

I hope you enjoy.

Thanks!