Hidden away within the quietest street of London, a townhouse forged from the blackest bricks emerged in the night. High-arching windows from which lilac wisteria bloomed lined all three and three-fourths stories. Those who passed along the coal-colored pavement so strangely noted that the home had no front door. No neighbor could quite recall when the townhouse was built, or even remember exactly who walked the grim halls now. All they ever knew was that despite the warm light emitting from its windows, that gave a rather ominous impression of watchful eyes from a sinister sentience, none of them had ever witnessed the residents properly enter the home.
Amongst the oddest hours of this night, the two witches who resided within the enchanted townhouse convened. Hovering candelabras burned the last of their silver wax as they exchanged gossip. The darkened floors always remained cold beneath their bare feet and the ceilings only ever reflected the night sky for which they answered to above all else.
Empty vintage wine bottles were left upon cluttered tabletops, and piles of discarded clothing made only the rarest and oldest fabrics lay crumpled upon the pristine hardwood floors in nearly every room of the midnight-shaded townhouse that Cassia and Gwen had raised from the dead earth then sworn to call home for their short forever. Foxglove and Nightshade, their twin kittens snored peacefully upon their ruined dresses between the emerald sofa and plum ottoman. A tub of Florean Fortescue's ice cream melted upon the mirrored tray between them as they tore into chocolate frogs.
"I can't believe you died again tonight," Gwen mumbled casually while she chewed.
Cassia wiped her chocolate-covered fingers upon her Weird Sisters band tee shirt that she had slept in for several years as she swallowed a sweetened bite. She shook her head in shared horror.
"Thank goddess I died before I could live long enough to realize my corpse was falling directly on top of Malfoy. I almost died again of embarrassment when I came back."
She shook her head in defeat. "I never should have gone! I mean I was just laying there like some tipped cow..."
Gwen snorted as she choked on the leg of a frog. "Hand me the bottle, would you?"
Cassia nodded and reached for the wine bottle on the floor. She had stolen it from the Malfoys upon their departure from the manor earlier. It had been far too chaotic for anyone to notice her slippery hands. She handed it to Gwen, who took a swig straight from the bottle to settle her choking laugh.
"And I can't believe you killed a man tonight!" She rasped, wincing as the wine was far too dry for her personal taste.
Cassia covered her face with her hands and rubbed her eyes, exasperated.
"I'm so sorry about that!" She admitted in earnest, eyes pleading for forgiveness. "He got grabby in the gardens and I panicked! I'm sorry you had to clean up my mess."
Gwen waved off her apologies. "It's really and truly fine. I was getting a bit bored when your mother summoned me at the party. Gave me a means of entertainment."
She shrugged coolly. "I'm better at grave-digging anyway."
Cassia paused as she went in for another bite of chocolate after dipping it in the raspberry ice cream. "Do you think the Goddess will accept the sacrifice?" She whispered as if she could hear them gossiping now.
Gwen shrugged, tying her starry blonde hair in a knot upon her head, despite the ridiculous amount of stiffening hairspray that kept her curls in place.
"I don't know, honestly. It was a lazy kill, Cass. She's quite choosy with her men, as well. If he was a groper..."
Cassia fell back on the sofa and groaned. "Ugh! It's so much work to kill them. I know I should revel in it, and I do, but I just wish it was a bit easier and just for once it would go to plan."
"You wish murdering grown men was more simple?" Gwen countered, deadpan. "You know, you don't have to always go for the tall and broad ones. They tend to be more...lethal."
Cassia hid under a pinky fur blanket, which muffled her voice. "What was I thinking! In the home of an auror! I meant to kill him next month!"
"I know, and it's a grueling ritual too," Gwen agreed. The dark circles pooling beneath her lavender eyes proof of the exhaustion. "It'll be tough to kill a third, or fourth, now that you've chosen to become an auror," she snorted, removing the spoon of ice cream from her mouth.
Cassia only shook her head. She hadn't wanted to become an auror for the greater good, like most. She was only determined to excel at anything and everything within her long life. Her grades had been outstanding; she was a bright witch. She would be the matron of their coven one day by birthright, give or take a few decades or hundred years. Becoming an auror had made sense. It would be her first act of safeguarding her sisters from the law and discovery.
Her thoughts drifted elsewhere, back to the men who had invaded the party and had left the pure-blooded community a clear message. Voldemort couldn't rise once more. Harry Potter had made sure of it. It was impossible.
"Who do you think those men were?" She whispered.
Gwen shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. It's been shaky since the war ended. Their had been power struggles amongst the darker factions. I bet Dagna knows..."
Cassia shook her head to disagree, but her heart knew that her mother often held onto to more information than what she revealed. She was aloof yet warm. Her mother had the gift of making everyone feel like they were the center of her universe, which kept her privy to all secrets in several circles.
"Stay far from Malfoy. We don't want to be involved," Gwen added. "Not all of our sisters are pure of blood. We both should try not to garner attention from those who hold such beliefs to our family."
Cassia narrowed her eyes, given the brief impression that there was more she had wanted to say. She wondered whose eye Gwen may have caught tonight, as well.
"Draco Malfoy is an auror now. I doubt it's what he truly believes. The ministry wouldn't allow it if they thought for a second he had truly been a death eater and hadn't been coerced to do such awful things," Cassia murmured, like they were discussing something truly abominable, separated from the magic they practiced.
Gwen shrugged. "Maybe they've fooled them all. I've heard things, Cassia. He's no stranger to dark magic even if he is an auror. The other shopkeepers tell me that he collects dark artifacts, as well. I would think the ministry would prefer to keep him close, if only to keep a more watchful eye."
Cassia remained quiet within her thoughts, only until her attention turned to the mesmerizing, bright light of the television. They had seen this glorious invention through their neighbor's window, then spelled them to forget when they had inevitably stolen it. They had placed the television on the floor in front of the grand fireplace carved of jade, unsure if it belonged upon a table. A group of women currently fought outside a nightclub within the screen. They both gasped as a woman shattered a wine glass upon the dining table.
Gwen nudged her gently. "I don't think we should tell your mother we've embraced this..."
"No," Cassia shook her head slowly, mystified by the muggle device.
"Most definitely not."
The enchanted bell high above the door of Wolf & Wonders was a unique curiosity. The shop itself was lavender in appearance and tucked within the smallest corner of Diagon Alley's most western end, fashioned between Sugar Snidget's Sweet Shop and Farewick's Fabrics Sewing Emporium. While golden and ordinary in appearance, the bell sang most magically like a small yet mighty hummingbird. It had been spelled long ago by Gilda Wolfgrove to protect the immortal witch line who had been unfavorably cursed to die young. Opportunity slept dormant in their veins due to the vengeful wizard who had escaped his predestined death and Gilda's life-stealing touch all that time ago. She had attempted to track him down to the far edges of the earth, leaving a trail of forlorn husbands in her wake. She finally died beneath the stars of her precious night only three years later at the fresh age of twenty-seven by the vengeful, air-choking grasp of her fourth husband, who had hunted her to the earth's edges, as well.
The bell had seen generations of Wolfgroves pass over its threshold. Gemma Wolfgrove being the most merciless, killing nine men in an attempt to complete the ritual for immortality and break the family curse. Her tenth victim had taken her life on the eve of her twenty-seventh birthday, after discovering she had spent the entirety of his fortune on canary diamonds and horse racing in the South of France. The most curious had been Galatia Wolfgrove, who sought both an alchemist and a seer in her quest to end the curse. The seer's ramblings were forgotten over the years, and Galatia's heart eventually gave out at the bare age of twenty-five in her quest to turn gems into years of life.
But the rusting bell's favorite had been Georgia Wolfgrove, who had stayed gentle all of her short life, taking no lives. Her heart had been a little less black, and she had breathed fresh air into the store's decaying walls. She had birthed a daughter on her eighteenth birthday and had lived to the fullest, final moments of her twenty-seventh year, passing on the ever of twenty-eighth birthday. Only in her last breath did she reveal the name of her great love and the father of her child to the High Priestess who held no tongue. She died peacefully in the night, leaving the shop of curiosities to the bell's second favorite Wolfgrove.
—
Gwen knew the hummingbird bell chirped once for a customer, and only twice for trouble. It had attained the right amount of dust over the decades to make this small shop feel like a home and it was the only place her mother's touch still lingered. The bell was deeply protective of its keeper, so Gwen knew when it tolled three times, imminent danger had arrived at her door.
She froze, back turned, waiting for the looming sound of step. The bird bell continued to sing as one might in a haunted fairytale, warning others and screeching away to avoid a hellbent villain.
"Get out," she hissed on impulse, shoving a book on the several uses of spider legs back into a high shelf as she stood on a ladder painted midnight blue and showcasing constellations. She wasn't afraid as the bell warned. A guaranteed short life was one freed of fear. Only the curse could stop her heart.
"I can shut that thing up if you would like."
She looked over her shoulder to find Theodore Nott as the door quietly shut behind him. He was dressed entirely in black; a rain cloud in the center of her whimsical paradise. His eyes roamed every inch of the shop as if he searched for clues to a puzzle that didn't need solving.
His eyes finally landed on her, and with a bright smile, the bell finally silenced. Gwen felt somewhat betrayed by the bell's change of heart. She stomped down the latter as he strolled forward. His expression fell as if he had rather enjoyed the view of her bare legs beneath her skirt or wished to have a moment more to worship at her feet.
She rolled her eyes. They were all so predictable.
"That thing doesn't like you, and neither do I. Get out," she repeated.
She halted on the second step of the latter, preferring to be slightly taller than him in this instance as he stepped too close once again. He grinned with the confidence of a prince and this shop was his palace. He placed a hand over his heart.
"Don't be mean to me. I might fall in love." His tone was rich with annoying sarcasm.
She huffed. "What do you want, Theodore? I'm busy."
His brow lifted as his full name rolled out of her mouth. He looked around the empty shop skeptically. Not even a ghost had made themselves known this morning — and it was almost noon.
Theo clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "You know if you improved your customer service, you might actually be busy."
Her mouth fell agape in disbelief. She hopped off the ladder to put some much needed distance between them. She felt his eyes upon her back as she snaked through the glass-encasings that held enchanted objects. She separated herself and stood behind the violet, wooden counter. Rows of colorful jars that held rare herbs made it seem as if she stood in front of a kaleidoscope on this bright morning.
"Don't you have more important things to do than terrorize me on a Monday morning? People to murder? Galleons to launder?" She grumbled.
The laugh that escaped him was chaotically lyrical. She knew she might dream about it later, but hoped she wouldn't. She knew of him. She knew everything about his illegal business and left no room for surprise. She had triple checked her information after he had stalked her within the Malfoy gardens only the other night.
"I truly don't," he chuckled. "Does that surprise you?"
She narrowed her eyes and leaned against the counter.
"I think anything you're looking for is better found in Borgin and Burkes."
"You misjudge me," Theo retorted.
He reached inside his pocket and placed a small sky-blue box on the counter between them. It didn't escape her that the lilac bow he had selected for wrapping from Sugar Snidget's Sweet Shop was identical in color to the one in her hair.
"What is it?" She asked, even though she already knew.
"Breakfast. Obviously," he answered.
His brows fell as if annoyed she hadn't immediately swooned. He quickly filled the silence as if she had made him momentarily insecure.
"I was a bit concerned your boyfriend might not be feeding you breakfast. Most important meal of the day, and all," he mumbled, waving his hands animatedly like the gesture was no big deal.
Her eyes softened. Theo didn't miss the cue.
"So is he here?" He smirked, tilting his head as arrogance found its way home within his voice.
"No," she answered shortly. "It seems he works a lot more often than you."
Her own smirk and a small laugh to match lit a match in his swirling eyes where madness flared, and she wasn't sure it could ever be extinguished.
Gwen held a hesitant hand above the box as he pushed it closer.
"Is it poisoned?" She asked gently, all too casually.
"What?" Theo gaped. "No..."
She was quickly made aware that it was wildly inappropriate that her first instinct was to assume any gift was a violent means to an end.
Gwen laid her hands flat on the counter, then leaned over the box to inspect it more closely. She glanced up, her accusing eyes landing upon his offended, bewildered expression. She was now the one stepping too close, pushing the boundary of his personal space. She was also right, his eyes were the most brilliant shade of ship-sinking blue in proper light. They narrowed, and his rich, mossy scent reached her senses. A perfect rainy day; the lure of a man who would ruin them all.
"Well I guess that's what a poisoner might say." She whispered.
Theo took the box back and opened it roughly, ripping through the cardboard and snapping the bow off. Without breaking eye contact, he popped the entire biscuit into his mouth. He chewed the delicate baked good like a beast.
"Hey! That was mine!"
She reached her hand out to snatch the box back.
"Not poison. See?" He spoke with his mouth open as he chewed.
Gwen pointed to the door. "Now you've overstayed your welcome. Get out!"
He backed away from the counter and pocketed the ruined box, careful not to leave evidence he had been here at all.
"Same time tomorrow?" He winked, walking backwards towards the door.
Gwen shook her head fervently. "No! Leave me alone." Her tone was simple and firm, neatly striking.
She pulled out a spray bottle from beneath the counter she used to polish precious items by hand. She fired rapidly in his direction as if he were a feral animal who had broken in. He covered his perfectly placed, meticulously messy curls with his gilded hands. Golden rings of various sizes glimmered beneath the clouded puffs of soft light.
He smirked, and Gwen realized she had made a terrible mistake — she was smiling. It was the invitation he would surely accept to spend all his mornings here if he so wished.
"I'll see you, little wolf." He smiled at her with the charming laugh as if this were a dance he had mastered and she hadn't quite learned. Once again, as if he hadn't existed at all, he was gone without the faintest sound. He disapparated from the center of her shop, which should have been impossible.
Gwen sighed, knowing with her whole heart that the bell was right, he would be so much more than trouble.
Cassia stood in the heart of the Ministry of Magic, nerves alight. She smoothed her hair for the tenth time as she waited patiently. The great gilded fountain roared just beyond her back. Notices and documents soared in the folded shapes of airplanes through the endless emerald walls of windows around her.
There was no worst flipping of the stomach than that on a first day. Her cold heart had been steel as she slit a man's throat. She hadn't thought twice of stealing and spending long, glorious nights with the the most wanted men. Yet she stood dizzy in the place of wizarding justice, waiting for The Boy Who Lived, who was righteous and true, and also no stranger to death.
She turned to the fountain and internally repeated her calming mantras.
I can do this. I am the heir to the Eternal Church of Night. I can do this. I was born amongst the black flame and devoured dawn upon my birth...well that's dramatic...but I can do this. I will make my star-blessed sisters proud, and maybe myself proud. I will do this. I'm better than I believe.
"Cassia?"
Harry Potter's voice trailed behind her, too soft to echo.
She whirled to face him with a dazzling smile, ready to impress and crush the entire world within her blackened fingertips.
"Harry!" She gushed.
He stepped forward to shake her hand but Cassia opted to hug him lightly. If anything, she could charm the worst and best of men.
"How have you been?" He asked, surprised by her outward warmth.
Terribly stressed. Spreading out my attempted murders across countrysides.
"I've been wonderful! Traveling abroad. Seeing the world! But happy to be home! And you?"
He motioned for her to follow him as she assumed he was leading her to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where the aurors worked.
"I've been well! Getting married in the fall," he answered.
"To Ginny Weasley? Yes?" She asked, the sound of her high heels clacking against the crisp stone.
Harry nodded proudly as they stepped into an elevator. She hadn't seen him in years and they had rarely spoken during school, only to exchange niceties during forced partner assignments.
"How lovely, Harry!" She sung.
I'm sure I couldn't care less.
Cassia tumbled forward as the elevator shot back quickly, instead of going upwards as expected. She hadn't been thrown around like this in ages, not since the nights she had spent in New York nearly two years ago locked in the penthouse of the handsome heir to the Shacklebomb wizarding fortune who had made her see stars with every kiss and thrust.
"Sorry about that. Should have warned you," Harry shrugged.
Cassia grimaced as she squeezed the railing with white knuckles.
"It's been busy here," Harry continued. "As I'm sure you've heard through the papers, were catching more and more dark wizards as the tides shift."
He shook his head as the elevators banked right and nausea took hold of her stomach. It dawned with horror — she was going to throw up on her first day of an actual job.
"It never ends. I'm happy you've decided to join us!"
Harry slapped her back casually. Cassia wanted to die right then and there. He was oblivious to her sudden shade of green as the elevator shook violently.
By the grace of The Goddess, the elevator doors finally opened to reveal a warmly lit, circular room. It was two stories high with a beautifully crafted wooden railing chasing its tail through the open space. Polished oak desks lined the grey and white checkered marble floor in a spiral. Cassia peered up. More desks were upon the second floor. Docile hinkypunks carried golden lanterns as their blue, wisping forms slowly danced towards the domed wooden ceiling.
Cassia tilted her head forward as the nausea subsided, and her eyes landed on the stone statue of the goddess Themis, holding her balanced scales proudly and blinded. Cassia smirked. She could find her way here if it too was led by a goddess.
Harry strolled into the department with comfortable ease. He looked over his shoulder, making sure she was still following his lead. He smiled as if he too had once been awestruck by this place. Cassia made quick strides to catch up to him. She had been lost in the beauty of the heart of the department. She wondered how many dark wizards or witches had been sentence to their end within these walls. Cassia knew that forever would feel much longer if spent behind bars.
Several unknown faces gave her curious glances as they shuffled through the center of the circular office. She tried to neutralize her expression and suffocate the butterflies that threatened to flutter in her gut. She hated meeting people and making new friends, but she wouldn't be nervous. She belonged here as much as they did. They were only politely curious and she had given them no reason to dislike her...yet.
Harry knocked twice with his knuckle upon a bare desk in the farthest northern corner of the department. Her heart dropped. It might as well have been exile.
"This is all yours!" He announced proudly.
He leaned against the desk's worn edges. She was nearly nervous it might break beneath his weight. He shuffled through a drawer behind him and picked up a golden badge.
"This too." He tossed it to her and she caught it with ease.
She rolled it over in her hands. It was heavy, as was the responsibility. It had the logo of the magical law enforcement pressed into the metal. Below it 'apprentice' was written in Harry's horrid handwriting that was permanently etched into the badge.
"Am I your apprentice?" She asked curiously.
"No," he snorted. "I'm your case manager. I oversee all investigations and report into the head of the department."
She didn't have to ask the reasoning. He was young like her, but had defeated the Dark Lord and ended the war. He was the most experienced and highly skilled, even if she personally believed Hermione did all the work and had been discredited within the narrative — as women often were.
Cassia slowly shook her head.
"I see," she answered quietly, making sense of it all.
"Who will be my partner then?" She asked, fastening her badge like a prideful Girl Scout.
"Mentor," Harry corrected. His eyes turned unreadable as they drifted above her, although Cassia couldn't sense anyone approaching from behind.
She turned to follow his gaze as she finished pinning her gleaming badge to her chest. Her breath caught in her chest as if discovered by a lean predator.
Draco Malfoy stood tall, dressed in the richest shades of black. His silver hair haloed him in the warm light, inviting the shadows to cut against the high hollows of his cheeks. He had aged like the vintage wine she had stolen from his cellar, although she would never outwardly admit it to another breathing soul. The paper coffee cup in hand was the only welcoming attribute about him. She assumed the smugness in his back-straightened stance and his menacing frown were more permanent fixtures.
He stopped sharp as he registered her presence. Draco then eyed her shiny new badge before glancing to Harry with a deepening frown that was on a brink of a sneer. Harry simply nodded, evading words as he typically did with Malfoy.
"Oh for fuck's sake! Really, Potter?" Draco exclaimed.
Cassia politely turned back to face Harry.
"Please, no. Not him, Harry!" She whispered in a panic.
She never thought she would beg a man in her life. Well, at least not when fully clothed.
"He has always hated me! Since fourth year! I'll do anything, Harry," she pleaded. Anything to avoid his dreadful presence and invasive questions that would unravel it all. She still couldn't understand why she had taken the hit of that spell. Maybe it was the way the light in his mother's eyes had dimmed, or maybe she was just stupid, and feeling remorseful somewhere deep within her black heart for the lives she had taken.
Harry sighed. "It's not you. He hates everyone, and we don't take bribes here, Ambrose. Plus, Malfoy is one of our best. You should be thrilled."
He waved his wand and a thick handbook with over a thousand pages sludged through the air and landed on her desk with a brutal thud. The word 'RULES' was printed harshly upon the cover. Her eyes widened. She was rendered momentarily speechless. How much paperwork could a job have?
"Malfoy, you should have made a selection from the new candidates," Harry chided. He shrugged and leaned against her new desk.
Draco scoffed and his expression darkened as his mood plummeted. "I made no selection as I didn't care to have a sniveling idiot chained to my side. I don't want her. I work alone."
"No." Harry materialized a self help book titled 'The Guiding Light to Leading' with a flick of wrist. It fell upon, what Cassia assumed, was Draco's desk. "You don't work alone," he finished.
Draco's jaw tensed as he visibly fought against his building rage. The paper cup quivered for its life in his tightening grip.
"We work together," Harry sourly whispered, as if it were the secret to a success Draco would never accomplish. Another book materialized within his palm. Draco snatched it from the air and chucked it onto his desk before Harry could blink.
Cassia snorted, noting the book was titled 'Help! I'm angry' with illustrations for children.
Harry pushed off her desk with his hands raised to suggest he meant no actual harm. He turned to Cassia.
"Read it," he ordered in a much nicer tone, pointing to the ridiculously large auror handbook. He then motioned between both her and Draco.
"And I expect you both to behave like civilized adults," he added.
Cassia nodded with feigned sugared sweetness while Draco glared like a dragon who had been unrightfully poked. He had done nothing but exist today to earn Potter's wrath. Harry slowly walked away, nervous they might both pounce. He finally shuffled into an enclosed office without turning his back. His title was etched upon the door in the same messy handwriting.
She sighed heavily before walking around her new desk, fingernail tracing the worn edges. Ignoring Draco entirely, she took a seat in the small, rather uncomfortable wooden chair. She opened the handbook wordlessly as she sensed Draco's assessing cold gaze upon her. He moved as silently as a wraith as he walked past to take a seat at the desk next to hers. It was positioned terribly close, and the limited items upon the desk were pristinely organized as if he rarely spent time inside this office. She could even smell him from here, she realized as a strong, midnight scent wafted in her direction as he kicked his legs out.
A horribly awkward silence lived far too long as she pretended to read the words upon the page to mask her unease. She was keenly aware of his behaviors although she ignored him. He leaned back and sipped his coffee casually, observing the entirety of the space and the others who went about their business, who seemed to avoid him altogether. They buzzed with shared shock over the events of the weekend at his own home.
She noted the obscene amount of times he pushed his falling hair back, and unfortunately, the way his muscles worked beneath the tight black fabric as he did so. He was tall and broad, exactly how she liked her victims.
"Can't read, Ambrose?" He teased, eyes sharpening in her direction. "You've been stuck on that page for quite some time."
She slowly pointed a glare towards him.
"Obviously, I'm literate," she sneered, turning the page with more force than required. She couldn't let him get under her skin and ignite her own wrath. This had to work. She couldn't fail at this. It meant too much to her, so she leveled her emotions.
"And you know my name. Use it, please." Her tone was smoothed, the angry edge sanded away as she kept a tight leash on her irritation. She couldn't give him more reasons to dislike her. He might go digging for a reason to get her outed from the department if push came to shove.
He snickered, more than satisfied with her response. His chair screeched across the marble as he pushed it closer to hers. He was now seated at her desk which was far too small to share.
"There are those dashing manners. I used to believe you meant them."
"Well that is your own idiocy," she barked back, temper flaring.
He leaned closer.
"Tell me, Cassia . What were you working out with my mother?" He whispered, placing his forearms upon her desk like he owned it too. Her pulse quickened. He made her terribly uncomfortable, and he knew it.
"You show up without a trace after several years at my doorstep, after scheming a way into my mother's welcoming arms during a chance encounter at the seamstress and a cup of tea."
She scooted to the furthest end of her desk in disgust, finding his insinuation that she was somehow plotting with his mother against him close to hilarious. Why would his own mother be plotting against him? Did he think she wanted his fortune? Wait, had he failed at an attempt to track her?
She couldn't help but grin and laugh maliciously.
"Gods, Malfoy. Get over yourself. I didn't even want to be at your ridiculous party. My mother practically dragged me there after I suffered hours in the hot sun drinking tea that I wished was tequila while they discussed the best spells to relieve hot flashes."
She pulled her handbook to her end of the table and opened it back up. This was her desk, and she would do as she pleased. It was her territory to claim.
She lowered her voice and narrowed her eyes.
"And you conveniently excluded the part of the evening where I saved your life..."
Draco stilled, his grey eyes quickly becoming unreadable. His demeanor changed only slightly as he leaned back in his chair at her desk. He had forgotten too soon that she had done him a large favor without even knowing him all that well. She noted he spun his silver signet ring around his ring finger as he contemplated whatever action in silence. He glanced her over, head to toe, wordlessly.
She flipped to the next page of her book and shot him a look of impertinence and low patience. "You can leave my desk now."
"Visiting hours have concluded," she grumbled beneath her breath.
He smirked as he came to whatever grand conclusion that he had over thought at her expense.
"Fine," he finally sighed.
He stood from his chair and dragged it back to his own desk, ending this soft interrogation.
"Finish glimpsing the rules. Bring me my coffee tomorrow and we'll begin."
"Fine," Cassia answered primly, hiding the shock from her delicate features.
If a small dose of poison found its way into his morning addiction, he would have no one to blame but himself.
He stood restless at his own desk. Cassia was now terrified that his compliance was a worser evil than his uncooperativeness. Whatever he had just plotted only a breath away from her was nothing good. He paced silently for a quiet moment before proceeding to kick into Harry's office without knocking.
Harry signed in exasperation as if he did this often. Draco gathered his things before turning to her once more.
"And Ambrose, the next time you want to save my life — don't. Debts are not something I appreciate."
He shut the door to Harry's office behind him, making himself scarce for the remainder of her first day as an auror. Cassia spent the rest of her morning listening carefully to the words they exchanged about the events that had taken place at the Malfoy Manor. Not once did Draco mention her name. Perhaps she was a secret he wished to keep to himself too.