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Chapter Eleven
The Witching Hour
The party ended shortly after midnight.
With Lily's Prefect status and Marlene's intimidation tactics combined, the common room was quickly devoid of reveling students in fifteen minutes flat. Cassie paced the floor of the Marauders' dormitory in the meantime; Sirius had dressed and gone downstairs to fetch James, Remus, Peter, and Alice, carrying a message for the brunette witch that she was to retrieve a pair of striped socks from Cassie's trunk. When Sirius departed, Cassie had collected her clothes from the floor and put them on slowly, though she'd traded Marlene's cropped top for a T-shirt that belonged to Sirius, all traces of her previous festive mood dead and gone.
The Marauders, Lily, and Marlene stood awkwardly to the side of the room as Cassie continued to pace, occasionally rubbing the spot between her eyebrows where the mark had been. The pain was gone, but the skin there still tingled slightly, like a faint itch she couldn't scratch.
Cassie only looked up when the door to the dormitory opened. Alice entered the room cautiously, holding a pair of red-and-gold striped socks in her hands. She spotted Cassie and held them up uncertainly.
"Er, were these the ones you wanted?" she asked. "I spent ages looking for them—all right, or you can just take them without saying anything. That's fine, too."
Cassie had snatched the socks from the other girl and now unrolled them, revealing the clockwork locket. It fell into her open palm with a small tinkle. She threw the socks aside, her attention on the locket.
She held out her other hand to Sirius and ordered, "Paper."
Sirius wordlessly handed her the scrap of parchment he'd made his crude sketch on. She held it up to compare to the locket and nodded once, grim. "Yeah. It's exactly the same."
"What is?" Lily said. Her eyes darted between the locket and the paper. "Cassie, what's going on? Sirius said there was some kind of emergency."
"If a glowing mark appearing on your girlfriend's head right before you're about to lay it down on her doesn't count as an emergency, then I don't know what does," Sirius said, crossing his arms and leaning against one of the four posters of his bed.
"That is entirely too much information," Marlene said, wrinkling her nose. "But what's all this about a glowing mark?"
Sirius shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe Cassie's a Christmas tree now."
Cassie shot him a look. "Can you take this seriously? Don't," she added when he opened his mouth. He shut it quickly, looking quite put-out that he hadn't been able to use his signature pun. She looked to the others and shook the paper in her hand. "This drawing depicts what appeared on my forehead not even a half-hour ago." She glared at Sirius. "Previous activities aside, Sirius managed to copy it down before it disappeared."
"It's the same pattern that's on your locket," Remus said. He frowned. "I'm confused."
Cassie snorted. "Join the club."
Lily shook her head. "I don't understand," she said. "I thought you lost the locket in the Forbidden Forest?"
"So did I." Cassie gave the locket a disgruntled scowl. "But somehow it came back. My aunt found it in my old room at Alderfair Manor when we were there for my parents' funeral."
Peter looked pale. "Do you think…? Are you…?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Haunted?"
Cassie sighed and sat down heavily on Sirius's trunk. "At this point?" She laughed bitterly. "Probably. Nothing else in my life seems to make sense, so why not?"
"Maybe Peter's on to something," James said, holding up his hands. "I mean, that locket used to belong to Gryffindor himself and your ancestor, Miranda. You're their descendant. Maybe it just comes back to the rightful heir or something."
"The locket also used to belong to the ancient guardian of the Forest until Gryffindor stole it from him," Sirius said. "Maybe it's just cursed."
"That'd be a proper explanation for the…mark…glowing…thing," Alice said. She bit her lip. "But why would there be a mark…thing, anyway?"
Cassie shook her head. "I don't know, Al. Your guess is as good as mine."
"But why would it appear now?" Lily asked. "This is the first time it's ever happened, Cass? Are you sure?"
She frowned at the memory of the burning, blinding pain. "Yeah, I'm sure."
"Do you think it was a, uh…reaction?" Marlene suggested. "To…y'know…" She gestured between Cassie and Sirius. At everyone's vaguely disgusted glances, she threw up her hands. "Well, someone had to ask!"
"Maybe all the alcohol had something to do with it," James said. "I mean, are we sure no one's hallucinating or anything? Could it just be a really bad headache?"
"I'm pretty sure headaches don't lead to weird symbols shining out of your face like a torch," Cassie said bitingly. "Sirius and I came up here just before midnight—"
Lily gasped, her eyes flying open. "Midnight!"
Cassie and the others traded glances. "Er, yeah, that's what I said…"
Lily shook her head. "No, Cass—midnight! Your birthday!"
Cassie sat, stumped. "Yeah, I guess it means today's officially my birthday. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know," Lily said, "but it could mean something. When the clock struck midnight, you turned seventeen—and that's when the mark appeared, right? That could be one of our leads."
Remus nodded. "It makes sense. Seventeen is an important number in the wizarding world, too. Not just because it means a witch or wizard is of legal age, but a lot of people think the number seventeen relates to immortality and clairvoyance—things like that." He flushed slightly when everyone stared at him. "What? Numerology is a fascinating subject."
"And utter bogus," James said. "How can numbers mean anything? They're just numbers."
"Point is," Sirius interjected, "Lily and Remus could be on the right track. The mark appearing when Cassie turned seventeen could be a strange coincidence, but also not."
"Nothing's ever coincidence," Cassie said, shaking her head. "We ought to have learned that by now."
"And we'll figure it out," he said. "We always do. Plus, we have more brains on this one than we did before."
He gestured to the girls and they nodded.
Alice grimaced. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Sirius is right. We'll figure this out, Cass. I promise."
She could only nod, not knowing what else to say. The mark and the pain were both gone, and there was nothing that she could do at the moment to find any answers for what had just occurred, or why.
"Well, if that's all…" Marlene hedged. "We should probably get some sleep."
Remus nodded. "We can reconvene in the morning; see if we can come up with anything else."
"Agreed," said Lily. She turned to Cassie. "Are you coming with us?"
She shook her head. "In a bit."
Though she frowned, Lily didn't question her, instead filing out the door with Marlene and Alice in tow. Cassie was left alone with the Marauders, who all stood around her in varying levels of discomfort.
"You believe me, don't you?" she blurted out. She looked between James, Remus, and Peter. James and Remus leaned against the former's bed, arms crossed identically and wearing twin frowns. Peter sat cross-legged on his mattress, picking at his nails anxiously. "I know it sounds mad, but Sirius was there, he saw it too—"
"We believe you, Cass," Remus said, his tone reassuring.
"Yeah," James said. "You really expect us to doubt you now, after everything that happened last year? This is just the icing on the cake, really."
"I don't want to get involved in any more…barmy shit," Peter said. He frowned at his nails. "Haven't we all been through enough already?"
"This is serious, Pete," Remus said. "This mark could be really dangerous. Maybe an actual curse. We need to help Cassie get to the bottom of this."
"Remus is right, Wormtail," James said, squinting at the mousy boy. "Cass is our friend. We don't abandon our friends."
"I know that," Peter said, meek. "But you and Sirius almost died last term, remember? I don't want that to happen again."
"No one's gonna die, Wormtail," Sirius snapped. "Stop crying."
"Sirius," Cassie said warningly when Peter's lower lip trembled. She held up a tired hand. "That's enough, okay?"
He pointed to the locket resting on her knee. "No, it's not. Why don't we just burn that thing and end this before it even begins?"
"There's no use in trying to get rid of it if it just comes right back," she said, rubbing her temples.
"You tried getting rid of it once," he said. "What if we destroy it? Permanently?"
"Unless you know how to work Fiendfyre or something like it, then we can't," she said. "Obviously, there's some sort of protection spell on it, either from the Thief who had it before Gryffindor or from Miranda. Either way, we're not going to get past it since they're both dead."
"We could try chucking it into the ocean—"
"Sirius," Remus said, cutting him off when Cassie sagged against his footboard, exhausted and defeated. "I think what we all need right now is rest." He turned to Cassie. "You're more than welcome to stay the night if you wish."
James nodded. "We'll make a dogpile on the floor. Turn this into a real sleepover."
Cassie smiled wanly. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Let's do it."
But she knew already that she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.
Cassie shifted under her blanket, dislodging James's bony elbow from her ribs. He'd called dibs on her other side when they'd settled on the floor to sleep, but she was starting to wonder if he'd claimed the spot just to torture her with his sporadic movements and lack of personal space. Sirius nestled against her other shoulder, snoring softly into her ear, while Peter spooned against his back, his legs pushing a soundly sleeping Remus diagonally across the floor.
With all four boys fast asleep, she extricated herself from the confining limbs of James and Sirius, careful not to wake any of them. Her socks deafened the noise of her feet as she crept to James's bed, her eyes picking out his belongings in the faint moonlight streaming in through the tower windows. She reached under his pillow and felt around for a moment before extracting two pieces of folded parchment.
Using the light from the window, she opened the first one and quickly shut it again in revulsion, the moving photograph now forever seared into her brain. She shoved it underneath the pillow again before grabbing up her wand and tiptoeing out of the dormitory, the other parchment still in hand.
When she reached the empty common room, she lit her wand and held it up to the parchment—a tattered, weathered thing that would look inconspicuous to anyone else, but she knew what it was.
She tapped her wand against the parchment and muttered, "I swear that I am up to no good."
She waited, but instead of the fine, spiderwebbed lines she recognized as the Marauder's Map, four sets of scrawled ink words appeared, spelling out sentences for her to read.
Mr. Prongs gives his regards to one Miss Alderfair, but begs of her to get the password correct if she intends on using the Marauder's Map for any risky business.
"What?" she breathed, astonished.
Mr. Moony agrees with Mr. Prongs, and would also like to add that Miss Alderfair may want to get the password right if she wishes not to be insulted thoroughly.
"Oh, you've got to be joking," she groaned, but the map wasn't done.
Mr. Wormtail bids Miss Alderfair not to look so SOLEMN whilst attempting to use the Marauder's Map in secret from its creators.
Mr. Padfoot expresses his disappointment in Miss Alderfair for failing to get the password correct, but applauds her mischievous misdeeds in using the map to further her own means. He hopes your MISCHIEF will be MANAGED in due time.
"Absolute tossers," she hissed. When did they Charm the stupid thing to respond to her? They told her it was only supposed to repel Severus Snape!
"Wait a minute…" She peered at the sentences again, reading them over. "Mr. Wormtail bids Miss Alderfair not to look so solemn…"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh. Right." She tapped her wand against the parchment once more. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The sentences morphed and spread like drops of blood in water, covering the parchment in ink lines and dots and the names of every person within Hogwarts. She searched the flaps and folds for any professors or Mr. Filch, but most of the professors were tucked safely away in the teachers' lounge or their chambers, and Filch and Mrs. Norris were busy prowling the trophy room.
Her path clear, Cassie clambered out of the portrait hole and set off down the corridor, ignoring the Fat Lady's sleepy mumbles behind her. With the map in hand, she felt more confident than ever sneaking about the castle; she was practically unstoppable with it. If any ghost trailed along her path, all she had to do was extinguish her wand and hide until their dot had drifted away on the map again. It was no wonder the Marauders were able to get away with so much—the map was a marvel.
She made it to the second floor with only a minor brush with Nearly Headless Nick, but she'd hidden behind a suit of armor until he'd disappeared. The poor ghost hadn't even known she was there, instead only lamenting to himself about his botched beheading, as he was wont to do most nights.
With another glance to the map showing her the all-clear, she pushed her way inside the girls' lavatory warily. It was freezing; goosebumps erupted on her arms as soon as she entered, the tiles biting through the thin layer of her socks with ease. Ignoring the sudden chill, Cassie muttered "Mischief managed" and stowed away the map, but kept her wand out.
"Myrtle?" she called softly. "Myrtle, it's Cassie Alderfair. Do you remember me? I need to speak with you."
"It's quite late for you to be wandering about."
The ghost of Moaning Myrtle drifted through one of the stall doors, her large eyes wide and curious behind her phantom spectacles. Her pigtails ruffled in a nonexistent breeze, and Cassie rubbed her arms vigorously, still cold.
"I couldn't sleep," she admitted to the ghost. "I needed to see you."
The girl sniffed. "I'm not your personal concierge for the afterlife, you know."
"I know, I know," Cassie said hastily. "But it's important."
"It always is with the living," she said mournfully. "Always in such a rush. When you're dead, you have nothing but time." Cassie said nothing, not wanting to upset the temperamental ghost. Myrtle sighed and waved a pearly hand. "All right, all right, what do you want?"
"Miranda," she said. "I need to speak with Miranda again. Can you find her for me?"
Myrtle drifted to one of the sinks and gazed into the mirror, picking at something invisible on her face. "She isn't here. She's gone."
"I know that," Cassie said. "Last term, she helped me when Salazar Slytherin tried to take something from me. It was her last tether to this world; she wanted to move on to the other side after she was done helping me."
"Then you know that her soul's not here," Myrtle said, looking back to her curiously. "When you choose to move on, that's it. There's nothing else here."
"But you're d—a ghost," Cassie said. "Isn't there some way you can, I dunno, communicate with her?"
"Does this look like a Divination classroom to you?" Myrtle gestured with a translucent hand to her defunct, haunted bathroom. "Miranda's gone. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
"There has to be some way," she said. "Some enchantment, or-or a way to get a message through—"
"Do you think you're the first person who's asked a ghost how to speak with the departed?" Myrtle asked, her voice sad. "Do you know how many students have come to me over the years, asking me if I can talk to their dead mothers, fathers, siblings?" She shook her head. Cassie could see her own reflection in the mirror, shrouded by a dark smudge that was Myrtle. "I may be dead, but it's not like there's a door between this world and the next that I can pop through anytime I feel like it."
Cassie swallowed her disappointment. "No, I…I understand, Myrtle. I'm sorry for bothering you. I just thought…" She swallowed again. "If anyone had answers, it might be her."
Myrtle gazed at her with her eerily large eyes. "I heard about what happened, you know. How your brother killed your parents."
Cassie flinched. "Yes?"
"I am sorry for that," the ghost said. "If I could, I would help you just for that alone. No one deserves that kind of pain." Cassie nodded, her throat too tight to say anything. Myrtle tilted her head. "Miranda did tell me one last thing before she followed you into the Forest that night. The Thief was not the only guardian. Does that mean anything to you?"
"The Thief…" Cassie ran her tongue over her top teeth, thinking. "Yeah, sort of. The Thief, I know, but not the only guardian…" She trailed off again before shaking her head. "Thank you, Myrtle. It's not a lot, but it's something. Thank you for helping me."
The ghost shrugged. "Miranda was my friend. I'm just glad she's in a better place now."
Cassie nodded. "Me, too. Er, listen, Myrtle, I gotta get back before someone notices I'm out. But…I'll see you around, yeah?"
"Yes." She nodded. "But next time, bring that dashing Potter boy with you again. I'd like to see how warm he can get me."
"Uh, sure." Cassie tried not to shudder at the image that provided and the many questions it raised about ghosts and life-after-death. "Bye, Myrtle."
She dashed out of the bathroom and collided with something solid that sent her stumbling back into the door. She lifted her eyes and met the glinting tawny gaze of Professor Staghart.
"I thought I heard voices," he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.
Cassie gaped. "I, uh—I was just—"
"Indeed." Professor Staghart smirked, the scars on his face lilting eerily. "Come with me, Miss Alderfair."
She was convinced she had to have the rottenest luck in the world.
She followed Professor Staghart to the Defense classroom one floor up, keeping silent as her heart raced, her thoughts running amok. How stupid could she be? She should've kept the map out, or at least glanced at it before running out of Myrtle's bathroom. But at least the professor hadn't seen the map. It was safely tucked away in the waistband of the sweatpants she'd borrowed from James, her shirt covering it up.
Professor Staghart led her to his office above the classroom and shut the door behind her. It was still lit with a crackling fire and glowing candles despite the hour, the light flickering across his black silk robes and dark skin, throwing his scars into deeper shadow. He gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs in the middle of the room, and she did. He crossed to a small table next to one of his many bookshelves and opened the bottom drawer, extracting a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid and matching glasses. She watched, confused, as he poured two drinks and handed one of the glasses to her.
He raised his own in a toast and said, "Cheers, Miss Alderfair."
She stared at the glass skeptically. He lowered his in confusion when she made no move to drink. "It is your birthday, is it not?"
She shifted her gaze to him. "How did you know that?"
"Because it's my birthday too." He grinned at her mystified look. "Thirty-one this year. And since you're now seventeen, you can legally drink. So, cheers."
He knocked his drink back in one gulp. She just cradled hers. "You'll forgive me if I don't accept drinks from my professors anymore."
"Ah, yes. I heard about that." He set his glass down and leaned against the table. "An allergic reaction to Veritaserum. Very rare. But you have my word, Miss Alderfair; I haven't done anything to your drink."
She couldn't explain why, but she believed him. She downed the drink and shuddered; it lacked the bite of firewhiskey, but it still left her coughing and spluttering. Professor Staghart chuckled.
"I've always had a particular love for Muggle Scotch," he said, taking the glass from her and setting it beside the other one. "A strange acquirement, especially for someone who grew up in Wales."
Cassie pressed a hand to her chest as her coughs subsided. She could already feel the alcohol in her stomach, warming her from the inside out. It was a nice sensation compared to the bone-deep cold she'd felt ever since Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
When Professor Staghart gave no sign of speaking further, Cassie cleared her throat. "Er, am I in trouble, sir?"
"For wandering the castle after hours?" He shook his head. His long, brown hair shimmered with the movement. "I'm not Mr. Filch, Miss Alderfair. As long as you weren't doing anything illegal, then I don't particularly care about enforcing that policy."
"Then…why am I here?"
He gave her a long, steady look. She shifted under his tawny gaze, his eyes glowing like embers in the candlelight.
"You've been through a lot in a short amount of time, Miss Alderfair," he said. "More than many wizards or witches go through in their lifetimes. Because of that, consider me a…concerned party, if you wish."
She scowled, turning her head toward the fireplace. "I'm not a broken doll, sir. I get along just fine."
"And I admire that about you, Cassie," he said. She started at the use of her first name. "Your tenacity and determination are inspiring. But if you'll allow me to speak from my own experiences, those qualities can only get you so far when it comes to suppressing your problems."
"I'm not suppressing my problems," she retorted. "I'm moving on with my life instead of wallowing in misery. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"
"Yes," he said, "but there's a difference between moving on by repressing your emotions, or acknowledging those emotions and accepting them. The latter is what starts you on your path to healing."
Cassie sat, her fingers curling into fists in her lap. How many times would she have to go through this conversation? She was fine, for Godric's sake!
"As much as I appreciate your concern, sir," she said, fighting to keep her voice even, "respectfully, you know nothing about me. I'm fine."
"Of course." He held up his hands. "My apologies. I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries. Being a teacher is…new territory."
"Why be one at all?" she blurted out. "You were a Curse-Breaker. Surely that's much more exciting than teaching?"
"I won't argue with that." He gestured to his scars. "But at least being a professor is much less of an occupational hazard. So long as my students don't Stun me with five wands at once."
Despite herself, her lips quirked in a grin. "You'll only have to worry about that if you're trying to kill me."
He laughed. It was a surprisingly nice sound, rich and throaty. She found herself smiling back. But now, she was genuinely curious.
"What made you decide to be a Curse-Breaker?" she asked.
"History of Magic, if you can believe it." He poured himself another drink and chuckled at her incredulous expression. "I get that a lot. But that class was what put me on the path for learning—not about the history of magical events, but the history of magic itself."
"Like magical theory?"
"Precisely like that." He took a sip from his glass. "With so many different cultures and origin stories of magic around the world, I resolved to find the answer for myself—for why magic existed. It led me down many strange paths with many dead-ends until I learned about Curse-Breakers. I thought if anything could help me with my research, then it was joining those whose job it was to work with ancient curses and artifacts—to study magic itself from the perspective of the past."
"That's…ambitious," she said, impressed. "And did you find any answers in your research?"
"Only fleeting ones," he said. He swirled the Scotch in his glass, the amber liquid glinting. "My mentor was a great influence—the wisest wizard I ever knew." He frowned and took another drink.
"Who was he?" she asked.
He swallowed with a grimace and said, "Erebus Kane."
All her warmth evaporated. Her gut plunged back into an icy cavern, filling her with frozen dread that stole over her body and chilled her blood.
"Erebus Kane?" she repeated, keeping her tone neutral despite every fiber of her being urging her to flee. "Isn't he in Azkaban?"
Professor Staghart nodded, grim. "Yes. You can see why I'm so hesitant to name him now."
Cassie's heart pounded in her chest. Erebus Kane. The exact man Will had been willing to go to Azkaban to find. And he'd been a mentor to Professor Staghart? That couldn't be a coincidence.
"If you don't mind me asking…" Professor Staghart waved a hand for her to continue when she paused. "Er, what exactly did he do? To end up in Azkaban?"
Professor Staghart said nothing for a long moment. He peered thoughtfully into his glass as if expecting the drink to tell her the answer. When it did no such thing, he knocked back the rest of it and plunked the glass on the table with a firm thud.
"It's late," he said, his voice controlled, clipped. "You should get back to bed before someone notices you're missing, Miss Alderfair. Now," he added sternly when she opened her mouth to protest.
She swallowed and stood. He didn't look at her, turning his gaze to the window and the lightening sky beyond. She walked to the door but paused with her hand on the knob. When she didn't leave, Professor Staghart turned back to her and met her glare head-on.
"You should know, Professor," she said, "I don't like it when people keep secrets from me."
She let her words hang in the air for a moment before she was gone, leaving the shocked professor in her wake.
Please review! I love hearing your thoughts!
Also I know the map is only specifically charmed to repel Snape, but I loved the idea of the boys sitting around and doing the same for Cassie since she's so nosy. It's the little things that make me love this story.
Next Chapter: The Offer
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