Disclaimer: Not mine
Everytime I think I'm starting to get used to the rhythm of my new job and new place, something else comes up.
Cassiopeia
By Kylia
Chapter 8
April 27th, 2003
Malfoy Manor
Unfortunately for Cassiopeia's peace of mind, simply knowing what kind of ancient blood magic her father had used to seal up this letter didn't help her open the damned thing. She'd tried every password she could think of, ranging from the obvious - the family motto, Sanctimonia Vincet Semper, in both English and Latin, as well as her mother's name, her old name, and then to more obscure options, like the names of her father's favorite books - she'd even tried the Dark Lord's name, whispered quietly, in case her father had suddenly developed a warped sense of humor.
Nothing.
She'd been trying on and off for nearly two days. Every time she pulled away from it to try to keep going through all her father's assorted paperwork, finances and the like, the sealed envelope kept floating to the fore of her mind, and she'd try again to open it.
It was strange too - the only blood Malfoy left at this point was Cassiopeia, now that her father was dead. There were some distant cousins with the name 'Malfoy' in Spain that Cassiopeia had never actually met, but they had been adopted into a now defunct cadet branch of the family several centuries ago, and so in terms of this sort of blood-based magic wouldn't be recognized as Malfoys.
So there was no one else who could open the envelope but Cassiopeia.
Which made the question of why the bloody hell her father hadn't picked an obvious password all the more pressing.
No one else would be able to open it, so having an easy to guess password wouldn't make it less secure.
And yet.
For some reason, it was very, very well protected.
"It's not as if I have some half-sibling somewhere, hidden," Cassiopeia muttered to herself, shoving the envelope back into the desk, not bothering with the hidden compartment. Her father was many things, few of them good, but an adulterer was not one of them.
Forcing her attention back to the ledgers in front of her, Cassiopeia ran through the numbers and the accounts. The Family's finances were not in great shape - her father's death right as he was getting set to make a major series of purchases had seen several assets liquidated for ready cash, and the one property that had already been purchased was - for now - a net drain on the account sheets, until something could be done with it.
Father was looking to rent it out, but until Horizon Square is ready, tenants will be hard to find.
Her father's notes were extensive, but unhelpful in many ways, without much detail on the specific nature of his future plans. He'd shared very few details with his wife either, leaving Cassiopeia's mother of little help in figuring out what to do next.
"Knock knock," Pansy's voice pulled Cassiopeia from her focus, and she looked up, inhaling sharply, her dark-haired friend standing in the doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest, a cross look on her face, the scowl making her look angrier than she probably was, however.
"How-" Cassiopeia started - the house elves should have alerted her there was a visitor-
"I'm going to assume," Pansy cut in, not letting Cassiopeia finish her question, "that you weren't planning to leave me sitting in the lounge all day, and that you've just lost track of time?"
"What are you talking about?" Cassiopeia demanded.
"Lunch. We were supposed to have it. I've been waiting half an hour." Pansy explained, and Cassiopeia dropped her head onto the desk as she remembered. She banged her forehead lightly, then sat back up.
"Sorry - I've been -"
"Cooped up in here with account ledgers and financial paperwork?" Pansy finished. "When your House Elves had said you'd given orders not to be disturbed, I'd at least hoped you might be busy with something more exciting." Pansy smirked as she said it, voice low on the 'exciting'.
"I just got back to England!" Cassiopeia protested. "And I'm not particularly interested in working through the loss of my father by having casual sex."
"I was thinking more a rough, angry fucking," Pansy countered. "It would do wonders to distract you."
"This..." Cassiopeia gestured to everything on the desk, "is plenty distracting."
"And boring. Just put the family accountants on it all and have some fun!" Pansy pleaded. "I'm not saying you have to start slagging around like Blaise did before he caught feelings for Longbottom of all people, but you're not going to do well cooping yourself up in the study like this either."
"Someone has to," Cassiopeia protested weakly. "The finances - I can't just hand this all off to accountants! I have to take some measure of responsibility-"
"Are you and your mother in any danger of being poor?" Pansy asked pointedly, eyebrow raised, and Cassiopeia had to shake her head. They weren't even in danger of dropping to the level of Potter - and he wasn't exactly without substantial means, given his inheritances from Black and the Potter fortune, small fortune that it was.
The Potters were never poor, but they've never been on the level of the Malfoys, or the Notts.
"Then you can take a break and come back to this in a day or two," Pansy assured her. She tapped her foot on the ground impatiently, gesturing for Cassiopeia to stand up. Cassiopeia stared at her friend a long moment, trying to find a reason to argue with her, but...
There really wasn't a good one. The family did have accountants, and Cassiopeia just didn't have her father's head for business, nor his desire to use money to make the world dance to his whims.
But...
Well, there were reasons she was still at the paperwork herself.
"It's not that simple," Cassiopeia said after a moment. Taking a breath, she pulled out the sealed envelope, setting it on the desk for Pansy to see. "I found this, after I started going through things."
Pansy examined the envelope carefully, but didn't touch it. "What would happen if I tried to open it? Something suitably nasty, I'm sure."
"No, nothing of that sort. You'd just fail. It's old family magic, passed down from Malfoy to Malfoy. Only one of the family by blood can open it, and even then, you need the proper password."
"Seems a bit paranoid." Pansy considered. "Not a whole lot of blood Malfoys running around, are there? Just those cousins in Spain you've never met."
"Not even them," Cassiopeia waved a hand dismissively, not wanting to go into the details of that whole bit of family lore. "But it hasn't always been that the Malfoy family only had the one child per generation. So it made more sense then. But... whatever password Father picked, it's not one I've been able to figure out."
"Did prison make him more paranoid?" Pansy mused, looking at the envelope. Cassiopeia hadn't thought she reacted to the accusation, but clearly something must have shown on her face, "Oh, come on, your whole family's paranoid. You have more wards on your manor than any other three families combined." She gently punched Cassiopeia's shoulder. "It's endearing... sometimes. From you at least."
Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. Typical Pansy. "As I recall, you're the one who put the worst hexes on your trunk. It took Bulstrode weeks to get those warts off her neck."
"It's hardly paranoia if someone actually does try to break into your stuff," Pansy countered, chuckling at the memory. She picked up the envelope, examining it. "So this is what you've been focusing on?"
"Well, I have been trying to focus on the paperwork, but... yes," Cassiopeia admitted, looking at the ground, sighing. "It keeps distracting me."
"Do you think it has something to do with...?" Pansy trailed off, and Cassiopeia shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"It would make sense, but..." Cassiopeia took a breath. "He wasn't killed by a spell or poison or anything it was... it was some sort of muggle weapon."
Pansy blinked, staring at her. "...I'm going to guess it wasn't a knife or a sword, from the way you're saying it. What, one of those..." She groped for the word, "those things with the pointy ends that you throw with a..." Frowning, Pansy hit the side of her leg, "Damnit, Hermione told me about them one time. Bow and arrow!" She added after a moment. "It's like darts, but... not."
Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow, trying to follow what her friend was going on about. "No... nothing like that. It was something called a gun," The foreign word did not sit right on her tongue, but that was how it was pronounced. "They're ah... apparently very common. And deadly. Granger showed Mother and I a picture..." she shook her head, "I don't think Father would have known it was a weapon if he saw it."
Cassiopeia barked a hollow, dark laugh, "I suppose it counts as ironic, in a way, that he died of a muggle weapon he didn't recognize. He always did rail against the existence of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts." She let out a long sigh. "Whoever killed him... they no doubt thought they had a legitimate grievance. Possibly even really did."
Cassiopeia's father may have gotten off relatively lightly for his crimes in the Second War, given that he'd not actually killed anyone, but Cassiopeia wasn't so stupid as to forget that her father would have had to kill at least one person during the First War, to be a member of You-Know-Who's inner circle. Probably more than that.
If not for the fact that he couldn't be tried for the same charge again, Lucius Malfoy probably would have been given the Dementor's Kiss, for all that he did the first time around, since the Imperius Defense was obvious nonsense.
Pansy put a hand on Cassiopeia's shoulder. "He was still your father, Cass. And murder's murder. Even if the killer was..." Pansy paused a moment, "even if the killer was looking for a bit of revenge."
"If the one they assigned to the case was anyone but Granger, I'm not sure I'd have been able to trust them to care overmuch about a muggleborn killing Lucius Malfoy," Cassiopeia admitted. "But- well..."
"Hermione can always be trusted to do the right thing," Pansy agreed. "I've always figured I'd want her to investigate my murder too." Pansy's joke didn't go over like the lead brick it could have - Cassiopeia couldn't help but snort laughter, just a little.
"Anything I should be worried about, Pans? Some jilted ex-lover?" Cassiopeia teased, knowing Pansy hadn't seen anyone seriously since breaking things off with Granger.
I can't imagine Granger was that tough an act to follow, but I suppose the available women for someone sapphic aren't exactly that many, here in Britain. Especially not for Pansy's rather exacting standards.
The lack of available options here wasn't something Cassiopeia was really wanting to think about either. Not that she really had any desires for anything right now...
Something has to happen sooner or later. A suitable arrangement could be made eventually, if all else failed. Cassiopeia wasn't going to let herself be the last Malfoy.
"Well, you know I'd rather die while I'm still in my prime rather than wither away all wrinkled and such," Pansy grinned. "Besides, so much more interesting to be murdered than just die in your sleep."
"Of course that matters so much more to you than staying alive," Cassiopeia pushed Pansy lightly, not even enough to make her move. But then her gaze fell back on the letter, and she sighed again, brought back - unwillingly - to reality. "I suppose I should probably tell Granger about it, in case it is... somehow related."
Her father would have fits if she let anyone in the Ministry know about this particular bit of old magic - all the old families had secrets like this - but on a certain perverse level, a part of Cassiopeia almost considered that part of the appeal.
Almost.
"Why bother? Even clever as she is, she wouldn't be able to open it." Pansy pointed out. She sighed, "And if you hand it over, that isn't going to change the fact that you're going to obsess over it."
"Obsess over it?" Cassiopeia shook her head, "It's a mystery, but I'd hardly say I-"
"Potter, Granger, Quidditch strategies, our entire sixth year," Pansy ticked off. "Shall I keep going? You spent our entire schooling obsessing over one thing or another. If you weren't obsessing, you were brooding."
"I do not brood!" Cassiopeia protested, raising her voice. Pansy just stared at her again, long and silent. "I don't!" Cassiopeia defended herself again, but her voice had less insistent force behind it this time.
"Cass, the only one who broods more than you is Potter, and maybe Theo, when he's having an off day." Pansy countered. "You've been brooding since you got back to Britain."
"I..." Cassiopeia started, but then trailed off, letting out a long, defeated breath. "Fine."
"Good girl," Pansy joked, patting Cassiopeia on the cheek lightly. Cassiopeia flushed and pulled away a little. Pansy just chuckled again. "But the point is, handing the letter over to Hermione isn't going to stop you from obsessing over it, about why your father needed to hide something that much. So why not figure it out yourself?"
"I've been trying," Cassiopeia stared at Pansy, as if her friend had grown a second head. I thought I made it clear I have been trying.
"By going through financial paperwork. Odds are, even if it isn't related to whoever killed him - and if the killer really was a vengeful muggleborn, it might not be - it's related to whatever he was doing before he died."
"Buying property in Horizon Square, you mean? Yeah, I've been working on that." Cassiopeia gestured to the papers again.
Pansy shook her head, slowly, as if in awe of something. "You're missing the point - if you want to figure out what the password is, you should get in your father's state of mind when he cast the spell."
Cassiopeia opened her mouth to protest, but after a moment, she closed it, realizing Pansy had a point. Magic ran on intent - even if Cassiopeia had said the words 'Avada Kedavra' while aiming her want at Pansy, without the desire to kill the other woman, the intent...
Well, Pansy probably wouldn't die. No reason to test it, but still.
So it did make sense - whatever Lucius Malfoy was working on, focusing on, dealing with at the time he cast the spell...
It was plausible that it would affect the intent enough he'd use a password related to it.
And if nothing else, I might finally get an idea of what's in the envelope, even if I can't open it.
"Your father didn't do business with paperwork. Not really." Pansy pointed out. "So..."
"...So I need to actually go out and talk to the people he was doing business with." Cassiopeia finished. She barked a laugh. It was so obvious, and she'd missed it the whole time. She looked at the papers on the desk again, the signed purchase order for the one property in the Square the House of Malfoy did own.
"And I know just where to start."
April 28th, 2003
Carnerius House
The Carnerius family had roots in Wizarding England as far back as the Malfoys, but they never had managed to strike the same wealth as the top tier, nor make it onto the 'sacred twenty-eight' list that Theo's idiot grandfather had made.
But they were still rich, and pureblooded enough to have moved in many of the same social circles as the Malfoys, until the first Wizarding War - they'd largely withdrawn from wizarding society and even sent their children to school in Denmark, but the final defeat of the Dark Lord had given them the incentive to return to England, making quite a bit of money during the rebuilding.
"Mr. Carnerius, thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Cassiopeia gave him a polite nod, sitting down in the chair across from the elderly patriarch of the family as directed.
"I was a bit surprised you wanted to meet with me, Miss Malfoy," Thomas Carnerius noted, peering at her through spectacles that made his eyes look practically the size of saucers. "My condolences for your father's death," he added with a softer note to his voice.
"Your condolences are appreciated," Cassiopeia replied, trying not to let the stiffness into her voice. She rathed doubted Thomas Carnerius cared at all that Lucius Malfoy was dead, even enough to say 'good riddance' like most might. But Hagrid would put on a tutu and ice skate on the Hogwarts Lake before the elderly wizard sitting across from her would ever fail to observe the rules of polite society.
"It's in relation to his passing that I'm here, actually. Since I've taken over the family and all attendant financial interests, I'm now the owner of the property you sold to my father in Horizon Square." Cassiopeia proceeded slowly, poking around the point. "I had some questions about it,"
"Your father inspected the property personally, and deemed it more than acceptable," Carnerius replied, his voice cool and detached.
"And my father always had an eye for a good financial deal, so I don't doubt that. It's not about the property's quality that I'm here." Cassiopeia hadn't had the stomach to actually set eyes on the place where her father had been murdered, but... well, when it came to financial bets, her father was almost never wrong.
Political bets on the other hand...
"But one of the questions I had was if you might be interested in purchasing the property back," Cassiopeia added.
Carnerius interlaced his fingers and looked carefully at Cassiopeia, pondering her words. "A very unusual notion. You claim no complaint with the property, but want us to take it back?"
"My father's plans to purchase as much of Horizon Square as possible are not plans I intend to pursue," Cassiopeia explained. "I hope to take the family's finances in different directions. It would be easier to do that if I can divest myself of 3 Horizon Square quickly. Since you sold it, it seemed reasonable to offer to make a simple exchange." Cassiopeia kept her tone even.
She wasn't entirely sure where she wanted to take the family's finances, but she was being honest when she suggested that real estate was not her preferred direction. But the offer to sell it back was as much an excuse for this visit as anything else.
"Well, your consideration in making the offer is appreciated," Carnerius began, and Cassiopeia could already anticipate the rejection that was coming, "but I'm afraid that I'm not prepared to buy back the property at the price your father paid, Miss Malfoy." He put his hands flat on the desk.
"An unfortunate response, but entirely understandable, Mr. Carnerius," Cassiopeia agreed. "But could I get you to agree to a smaller sum?" She quoted a price that was approximately five percent less than her father had paid. "As I said, I would prefer to take the family finances elsewhere, and I would be willing to see a small loss on this property if it facilitates the sale."
"Your father's equal in business, you are not," Carnerius countered, his tone bland despite the insult. "But I'm afraid the highest I could go is somewhat lower than that," his quoted price was nearly twenty percent less than the original sale. Cassiopeia shook her head, standing up.
"Well, then I'm afraid we can't do business, Mr. Carnerius," Cassiopeia placed her own hands flat on the desk, meeting Carnerius's brown eyes with her own gray ones. "My father was quite the businessman, I will grant you, but given his habit of poor investments in the public sphere, you can appreciate why I might regard his instincts as flawed in some cases." She straightened up, hands folded lightly behind her back.
"Your father's political instincts were... unfortunate, but-"
Cassiopeia scoffed, "Lucius Malfoy's political instincts were thoroughly rotten and it is only by the cleverness of Malfoys generations dead that he managed to evade sentence for longer than 5 years." Revealing all those hidden vaults with dark artifacts that no Auror would have been able to find in a thousand surprise inspections had done much to give Cassiopeia's father leverage with the Ministry.
"At the end of the day, my father supported the You-Know-Who like anyone making an investment. But it was a bad one, and he threw good money after bad." Cassiopeia went on, carefully modulating her tone. She let the disdain show, not the anger.
"While his choice to purchase 3 Horizon Square is hardly on the same level as that, it is not an inspired choice." Casiopeia finished, sitting back down. She gave Carnerius a knowing smirk, as if she knew something he didn't, occluding and letting her eyes give off the impression she was hiding something and didn't care if he knew it.
Carnerius narrowed his own eyes, composure slipping a little as he made it clear how much he burned to demand what she knew, and how. But he couldn't just come out and ask it.
"And your other questions?"
"A man like you, so careful about avoiding the recent 'unpleasantness' had to know the dangers of doing business with my father. And yet you did, easily and quickly, without even entertaining other offers or starting a bidding war. The ink couldn't even have been dry on the final bank draft to the builders before you sold the place. That's not savvy business either - makes you look desperate to sell that quickly, even for a fair price."
"And yet you offered to sell for less." Carnerius' eyes flicked to the side for just a second, and she knew she was onto something.
"I'm a grieving daughter who no one expects to have her father's business instincts," Cassiopeia countered. "And one who has learned when to cut her losses." Unlike her father, who learned it far too late. "But that doesn't answer the question."
"I didn't notice you asking one," Carnerius countered, and Cassiopeia smirked.
"Perhaps you're even less clever than I thought. The truth is, I already know." Cassiopeia reached into her robes and pulled out the bill of sale her father had signed and sealed, "This has the agreed upon price that my father paid, you put into your accounts, and everyone reported to the Ministry. And indeed, here's a copy of the bank draft my father signed with Gringotts." She pulled another sheet of parchment, also bearing the Malfoy Seal, out of her robes. Carnerius tried to look bored, but she could see his hand twitch, as if he could guess where this was going, but refused to accept it.
She pulled a small book with a black leather cover out of her robes and opened it to a marked page. "Fun thing about my family's private vault in the manor- you know, the one the bribery money comes out of. It automatically tracks when something goes out - only Malfoys by blood or marriage can get into the Vault, and about three hundred years ago, the then Lady Malfoy had her wife steal quite a tidy sum. She decided that wouldn't happen again. And look, low and behold, the same day you and my father signed the bill of sale, a certain old necklace, platinum with diamonds, was removed from the vault. It's not there, it's not in any of our other vaults. It's not my mother's taste so he didn't give it to her, and I know she didn't take it, and I was out of the country."
Cassiopeia tapped the spidery handwriting automatically written into the book by the spell. "After all, it says right here it was removed by Lucius Malfoy."
"Your family stole that necklace from mine! Your father was merely rectifying-"
"Your family lost it in a bet two hundred and twelve years ago. It's been our property since." Cassiopeia interrupted, voice cold, trying to channel her father for the first time in years. "Now, there's nothing wrong with someone generously giving a gift. But what do you think would happen if someone put you under oath, with Veritaserum? Would you be able to say my father generously returned an heirloom, or would you have to tell me that it was a bribe to get you to make the sale - and you didn't report the additional income to the Ministry. You know how they get when people hide information about property prices and transfers."
The percentile fees charged on the transfer of property like that was a fairly lucrative source of income for the Ministry, and they guarded it jealously.
"You can't prove anything!" Carnerius snapped, giving up the game. Cassiopeia hadn't known for sure it was even a Carnerius heirloom, though she'd known how long the family had had it, and it was an oddly specific bribe.
"I don't need to. The Ministry, on the other hand, just needs an accusation and a bit of proof." Cassiopeia countered. Not that there weren't plenty of ways Carnerius would wriggle out of it if he had enough imagination...
"If - if you tell the Ministry they'll know your father was just as complicit!" Carnerius continued to fall for Cassiopeia's apparent confidence in her position.
Cassiopeia's response was just to laugh, pressing her closed fist to her lips a moment as she leaned back in the chair a moment. Carnerius spluttered in outraged at being mocked, but Cassiopeia ignored him until she got herself under control, the inherent ridiculousness of the man's response getting to her.
A deep breath later, Cassiopeia pressed forward, smirking, "You're not wrong about that, but ''Lucius Malfoy Breaks Law' isn't exactly a shocking headline these days." Cassiopeia noted, a small chuckle still in her voice. "Besides, he's dead. You can still get charged with taking the necklace, and not reporting the necklace."
Carnerius stared at her, "What do you want?" He demanded in an icy snarl. But, before Cassiopeia could respond, there was a knock on the door. "WHAT?!" Carnerius snarled.
A younger man's voice camethrough, "Grandfather, there's an Investigator Granger from the DMLE at the door, says she'd like to ask you a few questions?"
Cassiopeia didn't let her surprise show on her face. What is Granger doing here? Carnerius didn't kill my father.
"I - tell her to wait in the drawing room!" Carnerius called back to his grandson. "I'll be with her shortly." He turned back to Cassiopeia. "What. Do. You. Want." He thinks I arranged for her to come here...
Cassiopeia decided to roll with it. "In a few minutes, I'm going to have a little chat with my old schoolmate. Should I tell her about this, do you think? If you know Hermione Granger, you'd know she doesn't much like old pureblood families hiding their wealth and exploiting the system." Actually, she didn't know if Hermione had an issue with it, but given everything, he rather doubted she'd be okay with it.
But Carnerius didn't know Granger either. Just her reputation and her association with Potter.
"What do you want?!" Carnerius demanded again, nearly begging. One case of under the table payment would really be that big a deal, but Cassiopeia knew that wasn't the problem. Once the Tax Division had an excuse, they reveled in the chance to turn someone's life inside out and wring all the money they could.
Every family that 'mattered' hid payments from the Ministry, and everyone knew it. But usually people didn't get evidence against tem handed over to the Ministry on a silver platter, and most were better liars about it than Carnerius.
"The names of everyone else who ever expressed even the slightest interest in 3 Horizon Square, pensieve memories of every conversation you had with my father about the deal and the property, and, of course, an oath on your magic that you're not holding anything back." Cassiopeia replied calmly. "I'll even give you an oath back," she held her wand over her other hand, "I, Cassiopeia Malfoy, do swear on my magic to not reveal the details of Thomas Carnerius's illegal actions in the matter of 3 Horizon Square if and only insofar as he honors the deal I have offered him honestly and in full, accepting the matter as done with no retaliation."
Cassiopeia felt the magic settle in around her, the promise - and it's clear escape clause - if she found out Carnerius tried to cheat her, or retaliate, she could freely reveal everything.
"Your father understood the rules of this game far better than you," Carnerius replied, but he was already bringing his wand up to his temple and taking a memory vial out of his desk.
"That would be true, if we were still playing the same game you and my father played." Cassiopeia countered.
April 28th, 2003
Carnerius House
With a vial of memories and several additional sheets of parchment joining the other ones in her pockets, Cassiopeia passed through the drawing room on her way to the front door. Sure enough, Granger was seated in a chair, going through a number of files as she prepared for whatever questions she had for Mr. Carnerius.
"Granger," Cassiopeia caught the other woman's attention with a slow drawl. "Fancy seeing you here."
Granger frowned, "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"Business. Someone has to manage the family finances. I'd ask you the same thing. What does Mr. Carnerius have to do with-"
"I can't talk about an ongoing investigation," Granger interrupted. "Is he free now?"
"Well, he's alone in his office," Granger stood up, gathering her files back into the port, "But after I negotiated circles around him, I might give the poor man some time to gather himself." She managed to say it with a straight face, which she considered quite the feat.
Granger just stared at her, "Since when do you care about that?" Well, I don't.
"We've all changed in the last few years, Granger," Malfoy replied, keeping the verbal jousting going. "I never expected to hear Pansy sing your praises, but then you two started dating, and she did." Granger rolled her eyes and started to walk past Cassiopeia.
"Somehow I doubt Pansy ever 'sang my praises'" Granger countered without looking back at her.
"Well, by Pansy standards she did," Cassiopeia countered, enjoying the back and forth. Granger kept walking, but Cassiopeia smirked as a thought on how to get a rise out of Granger came to mind. " You know, I was surprised to hear that Pansy was dating you," Cassiopeia mused aloud, watching Granger pause, stand still a moment, and turn towards her.
"Why? Because I'm a mug-"
"Of course not, Granger. The War proved just how stupid that doctrine was. I can be thick, but even I'm not that thick. No. I just never imagined she'd be interested in the bossy swot I remembered from school." Cassiopeia raked her eyes over Granger, being obvious about it. Even in her Investigator's uniform, Granger was fit. "Though I am starting to understand what might have first drawn her interest." Cassiopeia smirked at Granger's slight flush. The other witch paused for a moment, but before Cassiopeia could wonder if she'd actually won this little sparring match so easily, she shot back a reply.
"I might be a swot, Malfoy, but the thing about swots is that when we devote ourselves to learning something, we devote ourselves entirely." Hermione smirked, her tone of voice suddenly shifting a suggestiveness she'd never imagined she'd hear from Granger "Entirely." Before Cassiopeia could finish processing the implication, and the unexpected tone and smirk, Hermione had already vanished down the hall.
And you let things with her end Pansy?!
Sometimes Cassiopeia questioned her friend's judgement.