C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

Chapter XXII: The mind's defence

The afternoon was drawing to a close when the door was thrown open and five pairs of feet shuffled into the house. A sharp demand for Fred to pick his coat up by Mrs Weasley woke the portrait of Walburga, and Cassy, Harry, and Hermione each silently agreed to wait for the Weasleys to come to them. They lounged on Cassy's bed in carefully fought for spaces – which was increasingly difficult to win with Harry's far-reaching limbs and willingness to slowly nudge Cassy off the edge – and had no intention of making room for anyone else. Christmas chocolates were spread across the sheets, although Cassy was displeased they appeared to be mostly hers that people had ravaged, and the fire crackled contently in front.

It was not long until the door was opened and Ron threw himself onto Harry's legs with a heavy sigh. There was a low gasp of protest from Harry before Ginny slammed the door shut and leapt onto Ron's back.

Hermione had skilfully rolled out of the danger-zone and curled herself back up, book in hand.

'Ginny, get off,' rasped Ron, winded.

'Don't be such a sissy,' she retorted. 'I don't weigh that much.'

'You do when you jump,' he groaned. Ron wiggled for a moment, mustering the strength to throw his sister to the side with a grunt. He sat up and massaged his ribs. 'Merlin, Harry, your legs are bony.'

'You were on my knees,' objected Harry. 'Besides, I think you broke them.'

'It wasn't me, it was her!'

While the peace had been nice the conversation had eagerly turned to Mr Weasley's health. He was fine, they assured them, battered and bruised still, but undeniably better than last time. He has agreed to have his wounds stitched up instead of treated with balm and while Cassy looked curious, Harry and Hermione chuckled. Their mother had been livid and it was then when the siblings left the ward to avoid their parents arguing that the conversation took a gloomier tone. Ginny and Ron looked at each other uncertainly for a moment and frowns began to fall across everyone's faces before Ginny spoke up.

'We saw Neville,' she said. 'He was visiting his parents.'

Hermione made a small noise of acknowledgment.

'His mum kept handing him sweet wrappers, I don't think she knew who he was,' recalled Ron gently.

'We left after wishing him a merry Christmas. We didn't think he would want us to hang around,' continued Ginny.

'Neville would also not want your pity,' said Cassy suddenly and sternly. 'His parents defied Voldemort and should be remembered for that, not as whatever you might have seen today.'

Her words were unnecessarily sharp, but she did not want them to return to Hogwarts a week later and step gingerly around talk of their holidays because of it. It would only make Neville feel worse, both from the constant reminder of the intimate moment they stumbled upon and the guilt his kind heart would feel at making his friends unwilling to enjoy themselves freely. More than anything though, she did not want him to feel his parents were something to be embarrassed over, because they certainly were not.

No one tried to argue with her and instead undertook a more serious challenge of trying to fit all five of them comfortably on the bed. It was impossible, Cassy decided five minutes later when she was uncomfortably squashed beside Harry and with Ginny across her legs. Ron's lanky limbs stretched up the edge of the bed on her other side and were disconcertingly touching the pillows. She wriggled in attempt to find an angle where Harry's elbow did not dig into her side and that only made things worse when the only comfortable position had her resting against his side entirely, half propped up, and her legs now tangled with Ginny's in an effort to free herself from the mess. Cassy was not sure she particularly enjoyed being bundled with her friends as she was, but as her legs became trapped beneath Ginny's once again she knew she had no choice.

'This bed is not built for so many people,' commented Hermione from Cassy's other side. She appeared to have gotten off remarkably light for a moment until Cassy registered Ron's holey sock was touching her and she was just as trapped by Ginny as she was.

Half-an-hour later, just when Cassy's legs had gone numb, Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway and paused. She smiled at them as they stared at her expectantly before silently trotting back down the hall again without a word.

Ron shrugged at her antics and a few moments later she was back and a blinding white flash had everyone's eyes blurred and stinging.

'Mum?' demanded Ginny.

There was a faint whirring noise and the camera spat out a postcard-sized photograph. She waved it for a few seconds and beamed at them all. 'It was cute.'

'Mum,' groaned Ron, quickly detaching himself.

'Well… with things how they are you never know how many chances we'll have for photos now,' she said gently. Her eyes softened at the colourful photograph and she placed it in her apron pocket. 'Anyway, dinner is ready!'

By the next morning, the photograph was stuck to a kitchen cupboard door and was impossible to peel off. Cassy could not help but think if Ron had not made such a fuss later that day about it then his mother would probably not have stuck it somewhere so obvious.

Sirius grinned when he saw it, if only to tease Ron and it was fortunate he found humour from somewhere, for he soon began to slow and sober as the weeks drew to an end. It had begun when they started packing away the Christmas decorations. Small and unhappy frowns flickered across his face and the radio blared as loudly as it had in the summer, drowning out silence in any part of the house. Even Mrs Weasley did not have the heart to make him turn it off with all the hospitality he had given her over the holidays. All the cheer Sirius had had at having people stay had turned to bitterness at having to watch them leave. The only reprieve of his slowly darkening mood was New Year when most of the Order celebrated together in a noisy cheer and several rounds of drinks.

As the countdown rang through on the radio, Tonks kissed Remus. No one else seemed to notice as they scrambled around to refill their glasses in time. Cassy's ever-watchful eyes caught them though and for a moment he leant into her. Cassy began to grin, but then Remus' shoulders squared and she winced as he pushed himself backwards to quickly his legs cracked into a side-table, jolting the lamp and sending it crashing to the ground. He muttered something to Tonks that Cassy could not quite read besides 'no' and 'I'm sorry', gesticulating quickly.

The house rang loudly with cries of 'Happy New Year!'.

No amount of alcohol seemed to cheer Tonks up. Cassy did her best to take her cousin's attention away, yet Tonks' hair remained a stark, startling red even as she laughed with them. In fact, it remained red for several days following and if anything seemed to be brighter when she stomped out of the meeting the following Thursday. She did not say good-bye and slammed the door shut behind her. A very loud pop followed.

Cassy could not help but frown at Remus when he emerged sheepishly from the kitchen. It was not his fault he did not have feelings for Tonks, but the least he could do was talk to her about it. Instead, he seemed to spend all of his efforts avoiding her entirely.

A faint muttering echoed through the hall. No one paid it any attention and continued to redress in their winter coats. The dining room door creaked open and Kreacher hobbled out with a pillowcase slung over his shoulder. It bulged, undoubtedly filled with items Sirius had put out to be thrown away. He unsteadily manoeuvred through the throng of legs, then suddenly, as if frozen in place, halted altogether. Slowly his head turned inch by inch, a carefully measured pace as though any quicker might scare away the prey he had just caught sight of. Yet there was no prey to be had, for his gaze settled right over Cassy's shoulder and straight at Harry.

For a moment, Kreacher did not move. His mutterings silent.

He had been doing it more and more lately. He would becoming unusually quiet when Harry was present, void of his delusions and alarmingly content to follow any orders. Sirius seemed to think it was the threat of Kreacher being disowned that had jolted him into good behaviour and although Cassy thought it was certainly something to do with when he had told him to leave, she was much more sceptical that Kreacher was merely seeking good terms. She said nothing, however, and allowed the conspiracies to fall between her, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny.

The four of them had spent the better part of the afternoon building a fix-foot wide and four-foot tall card house when Mrs Weasley popped her head around Cassy's door. It wavered precariously.

'Harry, dear, here you are,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Professor Snape is downstairs and wants to speak with you.'

'Now?' asked Harry incredulously.

'Yes, in the kitchen,' she said, before disappearing again.

Everyone cast each other querying looks. Harry rose none the less and sighed heavily, muttering to himself about the likelihood it was just to give him detentions over the holiday for his poor homework.

It was not long after he vanished that Cassy stood and dusted off her woollen skirt. 'I am going to see if I can listen in.'

'I'll go and get an ear,' said Ginny eagerly.

Hermione stood too and it became very apparent as they stood at the edge of the first floor landing that whatever was being discussed between their friend and professor was very private, for the door had been closed and there was not a sound to be heard. Behind them footsteps raced and Ginny reappeared with the flesh-coloured pipe and Ron at her heels. He extracted a pipe of his own and Ginny handed hers to Hermione.

The noise that echoed up through them was not that of Harry nor Professor Snape, but rather Sirius, who growled lowly with the faint shuffling of feet audible beneath his seething words.

'Say it again, Snivillus, I dare you!'

'I simply meant that it must be torturous to be so useless all the time, coped up here until someone might have use of you,' sounded Professor Snape's nasal tone.

There was no immediate response from Sirius. Instead, it seemed Professor Snape had turned his attention to Harry.

'The Headmaster has asked me to inform you that he wishes for you to learn Occlumency in the upcoming term.'

Cassy's eyebrows shot up. She knew something had to be done about Harry's visions. Too much information was able to pass between Harry and the Dark Lord; it was a liability. Anything Harry knew, surely Voldemort could access. If Harry could accidentally pick up on the emotions and sight of him then it would not be impossible for Voldemort, a trained Legilimens, would easily be able to trace the link back. Control, manipulation, memories, and pain – they were all transferable.

She had considered teaching him herself. She was going to suggest it, although she had only progressed so far with her studies that she held basic confidence in her shield. The presence she had felt in her mind when in Professor Snape's office after the incident with Shandy had given her renewed assurance that it was something she could master alone, yet she was certainly not deluded enough to believe she could face Voldemort.

It made no sense though, how Harry was able to see those things. Although Cassy was thankful Mr Weasley was alive, the thought of the reason being Harry irritated her. The thought pulled at her mind constantly, the nagging question of how and why burnt at the back of her mind every time the incident was mentioned. She thought she had understood the burning when Voldemort was near. It had made sense that with a curse mark upon his skin and the thousand impossibilities Harry proved by simply surviving that night fourteen-years ago explained enough for a long time, but not anymore. Lily Potter's sacrifice saved Harry, yet the question still stood of exactly why she needed to in the first place.

'Dumbledore's going to teach me Occlumency?' asked Harry.

The sneer on Professor Snape's face was practically audible. 'Do you know what Occlumency is, Potter?'

'The defence of the mind,' said Harry.

'Oh, I am surprised,' drawled Professor Snape. 'Then you will know that teaching you such a complex magic would be seen as a waste of the Headmaster's time and so such a tedious task has been passed to me.'

Ginny hissed.

'Why you?' demanded Sirius heatedly.

'It is not a task I wished for, Black,' he replied. 'Potter, if anyone asks, you are seeing me every Monday evening at six for remedial potions. Merlin knows you need them.'

No one had the chance to listen any further, for footsteps sounded from across the hall. Scrambling, everyone wound up the Extendable Ears and hid them out of sight. The living room door opened and Remus stepped out. He paused and stared at the four of them suspiciously.

'What's going on?' he asked playfully.

'Nothing,' said Hermione quickly. 'Harry's been gone a while, so we were waiting for him to come out again.'

Remus did not look entirely convinced, but before he could say anything the front door swung open and voices filled the dark hall. One was unmistakably Mrs Weasley's, high and fussy, although Cassy had been aware she had left; the next was cheerful and low, belonging to Bill; the last of them was breathless yet enthusiastic. Mr Weasley had returned.

Cassy leant over the banister to get a better look at the incoming red-heads. Ginny and Ron raced down the stairs; Walburga grunted behind the curtain. Although now distorted by his two children, it was clear that Mr Weasley had yet to change from his pyjamas. He was pale with dark rings around his eyes, a slight shake to his arms as he brought them up to embrace his family and the widest grin possible on his face.

The noise must have alerted Fred and George, for it was not a moment later that they let out shrieks from the upper level and apparated straight into the hall. Mrs Weasley did not even scold them and instead laughed as they wrestled their way passed Ginny and Ron to get to their father. Once all the hugs were done and he had greeted Cassy, Hermione, and Remus too, Mr Weasley puffed out his chest.

'I had better go and announce myself,' he said cheerfully and hobbled towards the kitchen.

In the excitement of their father's return, it seemed Ginny and Ron had forgotten the fight that had just begun beneath their feet moments ago. Cassy said nothing, knowing she would be unable to explain how she knew not to enter and instead trailed after Mr Weasley with the rest.

'I'm cured!' he announced as he threw open the door. 'Completely cured!'

There was strangled growl and scuffling and then everything fell silent. Cassy poked her head over Mrs Weasley's shoulder and inwardly sighed to herself. At opposite ends of the kitchen stood Sirius and Professor Snape, their wands drawn and raised. Harry stood between them, closer to Sirius, who still had his hand on his chest as though just having shoved him out of the way. Both the adults lowered their wands despite their faces showing only utter contempt. In one sweeping motion, Professor Snape turned and stalked back up the stairs. He flashed a glower at Cassy as he passed through the cluster in the doorway, his cloak billowed behind him and the front door slammed shut.

Sirius forced a grin onto his face and turned to Mr Weasley. 'Congratulations.'

With renewed life, Mrs Weasley burst into conversation about Mr Weasley's miraculous recovery. She busied herself by the stove for the remainder of the afternoon, cooking everything in the cupboards in preparation of a massive celebratory meal. Fred and George complained that they should have been told about their father's discharge before he appear at the door, but Mr Weasley grinned and said it was better as a surprise.

While the Weasleys lit up the kitchen with spirited conversation, Sirius looked as though he wanted nothing more than to slink away upstairs and vent his anger privately. The smile he wore looked pained.

Harry leant over to Cassy. In a muttered explanation, she found that Sirius had tried to tell Professor Snape that he would answer to him if he heard any word that he was mistreating Harry in his lessons. The conversation had turned bitterly when Professor Snape had brought James into it, stating Harry was too much like him – arrogant and conceited – for any criticism to sink in any way. It was then Sirius had drawn his wand and a fight had nearly erupted.

While the Weasleys were oblivious to the darkening mood at the other end of the table, Cassy was certainly not. When Sirius was not trying his best to be a good host, he brooded. He hardly ate and his expression was close to burning holes in the mahogany table each time he thought no one was looking. Harry stared worriedly at him throughout the meal. She could see the need for him to speak to his Godfather in every look, Harry's unfailing kindness urging him to talk Sirius down from whatever emotional peak he had built himself up to.

Remus muttered to Sirius occasionally, but he did not seem to have any desire to sit him down and discuss it then either, so when the meal came to an end and Sirius ushered them all out of the kitchen with the promise he would clean up there really was no chance to speak.

To Cassy, however, this presented a bigger opportunity.

'Remus,' she called as he approached the front door, having bid his farewells. 'Can I ask you something?'

He looked at her curiously and nodded.

Cassy glanced around. She waved away her friend who had lingered in interest on the stairs. It was only when she had heard the last door shut that she turned back to Remus. For a moment, she studied his face. His hair was speckled with more grey than ever and his face was worn. The full moon had been some weeks before and he seemed stronger now than he had been at Christmas. The gold flecks in his brown-eyes burnt brightly all the same, inquisitive and patient.

'Why was it that Voldemort sought out Harry that night?' she asked bluntly.

He blinked. 'You know why. He was after the James and Lily because they refused to join him.'

'Why was it necessary for Lily to sacrifice herself to save Harry then? Why would she have believed he would have killed a baby? That magic is only evoked by a choice. Professor Dumbledore once told Harry that it was her choice not to step aside that protected his life. Why was she given that choice?'

There was a long and heavy silence. Remus then breathed deeply. His arms rose in front of him and he pushed them away from his chest as though presenting her with an imaginary item. 'No one knows what happened that night, not really. There could be many reasons Harry is alive – '

'You are going to deny Lily Potter's sacrifice?' asked Cassy flatly, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'No!' said Remus quickly. 'What I am saying is that no one knows the answers to the questions you are asking, Cassy. What has made you ask all this, anyway?'

She surveyed him carefully. His arms fell to his sides.

Slowly, she said, 'Harry and Voldemort are connected. I used to believe it was because of his scar, but now I wonder if it is more than that. I find it had to believe he would kill an infant, one of a family like the Potters, simply because the parents had rejected his cause.'

'You're over-thinking this,' he said firmly. His hands spread out from the centre of his chest again, as if wiping away her comments.

With only the slightest inclination of her head, she nodded. Silently, she climbed the stairs and Remus fastened his cloak to leave. Midway up, however, she turned again.

'You gesticulate a lot when you lie, you know,' she commented. First to Tonks at the party and then to her now. 'It might make you seem more involved and friendly in a conversation, but when you normally keep your hands stubbornly folded in front of you, it really begins to tell other stories. Good-night, Remus.'

She did not see his reaction. He made no move to follow and when Cassy was back in her room she made sure to note what he had said for further reference in her mind. There were more pressing tasks to move onto however and soon Plum had appeared at the end of her bed, large-eyed and eager to please. From beneath her bed, she pulled out a stack of loose paper clippings almost one foot thick. Black and white printed ink swirled across them, but so did hand-written red, carefully kept clear and ridged. She handed them to Plum.

'Make copies of each of these, sporadically place them in the castle, particularly in the common rooms, including Gryffindor. Hide them in people's belongings, if you must. Mix and match them, just make sure they are distributed throughout the castle,' instructed Cassy.

Plum nodded. Her eyes glittered hopefully as she asked, 'Will this help stop the people who hurt Master Alphard?'

Cassy slowly nodded. 'I hope so, Plum.'

They left Grimmauld Place early the next morning. The Knight Bus zoomed into the street and collected them without question. Tonks and Moody ushered them off at the end of the considerably shorter journey and walked them up to the castle steps. Tonks waved good-bye and hugged Cassy quickly. Moody muttered about giving her disguise away, but Tonks ignored him.

Breakfast had already ended and students had lazily returned to their common rooms to enjoy the last day of the holidays before term began. It was there that they found Neville with Dean and Seamus at one of the tables. Papers were scattered across the surface. They were hunched over them, from a distance it appeared as if they were doing last minute homework, but when Cassy stepped closer, she realised exactly what it was.

Neville looked up at her brightly when she took a seat beside him. 'Morning! How was Christmas?'

'It was okay,' she said blandly. Her attention was fixated on the papers.

'Oh, yeah, you should all take a look at these,' he said quickly.

Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron had squashed themselves around the table and each picked up the nearest sheet.

'Someone's been highlighting all of the inconsistencies in the Daily Prophet articles,' said Dean excitedly.

'They go back as far as June,' added Seamus.

'Where have these come from?' asked Hermione, grabbing another.

'That just it,' said Neville. 'No one knows. Everyone was talking about them this morning at breakfast. They've appeared everywhere, including the Slytherin common room. There was even one stuffed in a library book, Colin Creevey said.

'And no one has any idea who's responsible?' Harry was reading each note carefully.

'None,' said Dean.

'Although, Umbridge wasn't so impressed. She kept scanning over our table all breakfast. I think she was looking for you to blame it on, but seeing as you weren't here that doesn't really work,' said Seamus gleefully.

The conversation continued on for a while. Curiosity reigned amongst the students and even when the group had divided for the day, comments and enquiries could be heard from the other years as they too wondered over the mysterious articles and the questions they posed. Many people shot Harry sceptical looks, but he had not been there to be blamed and Cassy found herself incredibly pleased with her work. There were plenty more articles to publish and she thought she had enough questions to last a month if she continued to distribute them oddly through the month to keep the questions burning. If the students began to put the pieces together and take not of the abnormalities in the news, then perhaps Harry would not have to wait for Voldemort to reveal himself to have open support.

Much of the evening was spent exchanging holiday stories and catching Neville up on the grim news of Harry's personal classes with Professor Snape. Neville did not even pretend that he thought they were a good idea. Instead, he turned to Harry with a look of horror so severe someone might as well have told him he only had seven days left to live. After much insisting that there was no one else available to teach him and that Harry had been instructed to take the classes by the Headmaster, Neville's expression settled on an unattractive grimace/

'I wouldn't want him anywhere near my mind,' he said lowly.

'I don't want him anywhere near me at all, but I need to stop the dreams,' conceded Harry heavily.

As they both sank further into despair, Hermione changed the conversation cheerfully.

'What was the present Blackjack gave you as we left, Harry?' she asked.

Harry frowned. 'He said it was something to communicate with him with, but I don't think I'll use it. I don't want him getting into trouble because of me.'

'It has to be safer than the Floo network, surely,' said Ginny.

'Have you even opened it yet?' asked Cassy.

Harry shook his head.

'If he does not hear from you, he will assume the worst, you know,' she said quietly.

Harry rubbed his face and sighed. 'I am not having him getting himself arrested for me. At the first mention of the lessons again he will jump on the chance to be up here and I won't risk it.'

'At least open it,' urged Ginny, but Harry refused again and they were forced to abandon the topic.

The next day, Cassy considered asking again. She understood why her father had given whatever it was to Harry and not her, but it would have been easier if he had just handed it to his daughter instead of his incredibly stubborn godson. Cassy, at least, would have opened it before dismissing it, or figured out a way to compromise both Harry's fear of recklessness and her father's need to ensure Harry's safety into some manageable action. Without knowing what it was in the packaging then she had no hope to.

As it was, the parcel had gone to Harry and it was not Cassy's place to storm into his room and take it. She shoved the curiosity aside and buried it far in the depths of her mind. Instead, she moved to batting away the never-ceasing questions of the DA members as they each eagerly demanded to know when sessions would be starting again.

News of Harry's remedial Potion classes soon spread and Malfoy had cackled madly as he passed at lunch. Harry ignored him though, but did not fail to notice the lack of laughter from the rest of the hall. A few Slytherin's sniggered, yet most people seemed to watch him with a veiled interest. When he mentioned it, Luna suggested it was because of the newspapers that had mysteriously appeared; Ravenclaw had increased their subscription to the Daily Prophet and had taken to combing over the details each day now.

No one loitered after they had eaten and instead retreated to the safety of the library. Everyone was keen to avoid any further discussions with the DA members, the size of the group made even a few questions seem unusual and no one wanted to chance Professor Umbridge resting her all-seeing owl eyes on anyone in particular as he next target.

Cassy dismissed herself from her friends quickly and slipped into a seat beside Stephen. He smiled at her and set down the book he had been reading at the narrow desk at the far side of the study area. With the topic of the DA quickly waved away, Cassy spoke to him about the holidays. He had spent it with his mother – she noted how he did not mention his father – in their home in Telford. They had a large party with the neighbours at New Years and they had celebrated his seventeenth birthday quietly the next day. Cassy exchanged her own amended version of her holidays, outlining her faux time at the Weasleys with Harry.

'I normally get an obtuse card from Benjamin during the holidays,' said Stephen thoughtfully. 'It's odd. This is the first year I have never got one.'

Probably because you are my friend and I very nearly murdered him the month before, thought Cassy flatly.

'I still do not understand your relationship with him,' she commented.

'I don't either,' he shrugged and Cassy smiled.

The only issue she had with that statement was that she thought she might be beginning to see their relationship as it really was. She had not given up thinking of Shandy since detentions had begun, but rather the longer she spent in silence with him the more she seemed to notice and the more time she had to consider him. He was clever, incredibly so, cunning, popular, apparently amusing and seemingly charming as word had spread he had found himself another girlfriend. Shandy surrounded himself with people who hung off his every word but what he had said to her that night stuck in her brain.

'We could be friends,' he had offered, even though the two had never seen eye-to-eye since the moment they had met. He had not spread the word of who was responsible for the Chamber being opened, nor had be tried to retaliate for when she had cursed him on the Durmstrang ship. Although he had been angry, he had clearly been impressed with her cunning. It always came back to him testing her and her always excelling beyond his comprehension.

Shandy did not want to subdue her. Instead, Cassy rather thought he was trying to find equals.

'If it makes you feel any better, I did not hear from Malfoy this Christmas either,' said Cassy, still smiling.

Stephen hummed. 'Don't let Astoria hear that. She's already quite upset by what Malfoy's been saying.'

Cassy rolled her eyes and smirked. 'Astoria is nosey and will just say what she wishes to, she even opened a conversation by directly asking me about my newly escaped convict father. I do not think my saying anything to her will stop her doing anything.'

He laughed loudly.

'Honestly, I just stared at her. Thank Merlin Slytherin has taught her some tact.'

Stephen just laughed harder at Cassy's pretend disgruntled expression.

'Can I interrupt?' sounded a flat, low voice from behind.

The pair turned and peered up at Harry. His eyes were half-lidded in contempt and his pale skin was flushed around his lightning bolt scar.

Cassy stood quickly and frowned. She waved good-bye to Stephen and followed Harry into the silent rows of bookshelves before pulling him to a stop by his elbow.

'Your scar is hurting again, isn't it?' she asked.

'How do - ?'

'You always rub it when it bothers you,' she muttered.

Harry paused for a second and then let out a deep breath. 'I realised something and I need your opinion on it.' When Cassy nodded, he continued. 'The corridor Mr Weasley was in is the same one I have dreamt of for months. Voldemort wants something from the Department of Mysteries. I think whatever weapon there is might be there.'

Cassy was quiet for a moment. 'Stugis Podmore was trying to access a room within the Ministry when he was arrested. To be there at night means he must have been doing something and the paper did curiously exclude the location.'

'He might have been guarding the entrance,' suggested Harry thoughtfully. 'But what is kept in the Department of Mysteries?'

'No one is sure,' said Cassy lowly. 'Those who work there are called "Unspeakables" because they are sworn to secrecy on the projects they work on; it is deathly impossible to become one. You have to be the pinnacle of a genius in some form. Whatever skill you present that might be of use to them, you must be of the best in Britain. They attempt to solve life's largest mysteries – time, space, thoughts, and death. They developed Hermione's Time-Turner, in fact.'

As she spoke, they moved back to the table that Harry had occupied with Neville and Hermione. He watched her thoughtfully, assessing how the information might fit into Voldemort's plans.

'Chances are there is certainly something there worth having then,' he said grimly.

Cassy nodded faintly.

Neville and Hermione peered at them curiously. It became very evident that Harry had not shared his suspicions with them before finding her and from the distant look on his face the conversation would have to come later.

'Maybe we should head back to the common room,' suggested Neville. His eyes were focused on Harry's face, which remained pale as he scrubbed at his scar again.

Hermione nodded worriedly and Cassy grabbed her bag from the table.

Too consumed in thought to protest, Harry allowed himself to be shepherded up to the common room. It was alive with noise. Fred and George stood by the fireplace with their heads flickering between visible and invisible as they put on and removed a pair of pointed hats. The crowd around them applauded loudly.

Harry muttered that he was going to bed. Less than five minutes later, Neville's concern won and he hurried upstairs to see how he was. Once he was gone, Cassy and Hermione made themselves comfortable at their little unoccupied table. Flowers had bloomed in Neville's ugly vase.

Midway through a conversation about Ron's leniency with the first-years during Prefect duty, Neville burst out of the boys' staircase. Panic was written across every inch on him. By the time he had stumbled to a stop beside the table, Cassy was already standing and demanding an explanation.

Neville grimaced. 'When I went upstairs Harry was on the ground panting. He said Voldemort was really happy about something. He looked like he was going to be sick.'

Hermione hissed. 'His defences must be really low from Professor Snape's attacks…'

'Is he all right?' questioned Cassy, scowling.

'He's gone back to bed,' said Neville quickly. 'I don't blame him. He looked exhausted.'

Cassy knew Harry would not have gone to sleep. He never slept after a vision, or if something was on his mind. He would lie awake for hours thinking of it, worrying over what had the Dark Lord so pleased and how it could possibly relate to the Department of Mysteries. Yet, knowing he would not want to talk about right then, she sat back down. The attacks were becoming more and more frequent. She sincerely hoped he began to take his Occlumency lessons seriously.

This is the 101st chapter of my series I have uploaded. I have another twenty-three for this year… so probably almost another hundred before the series is complete. This seemed like an easier undertaking when I began it. I will update next week and I promise it will be an interesting chapter.

This is just a little connecting chapter and the introduction of some little things.

Thank-you to the two people that reviewed the last chapter and as always, feel free to tell me what you think!

Thanks!