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WITH THE NEW YEAR CAME THE DREAD OF RETURNING BACK TO HOGWARTS, and Cassia felt reluctant to bid her goodbyes to her family as she stood at the outset of her family Manor, her large trunk in the one hand with the initials C.G. imprinted upon the front, bundled in a plethora of cotton knit scarf, hat and gloves, her winter coat buttoned up to her neck for least wind impact. The snow was melting durably along lamp covers, trees swaying bare in the woolly wind of which the winter holidays seemed to have rapidly passed by along with. Truth be told, the prospect of having to face people like Professor Umbridge upon their return hadn't exactly been the most desirable of promises to be met with.

"Has everyone got everything they need?" Marlowe had organised one of the Ministry's transport vehicles (Muggles call them "cars", but whatever) to drive them all to Kings Cross. It was black, and shiny, and very long.

Everyone (Daphne and Astoria) nods, but Cassia says, "We're missing a Theo."

"So we are!" Marlowe exclaims, eyes widening in revelation. For Marlowe had told Luciana Nott that she could take Theo to Kings Cross in their big "car" too.

Just then, a whoosh is heard coming from the Parlour, where the fireplace had been. And Theodore Nott emerges, heaving his trunk amidst his warmly bundled black fleece and scarf. He vigorously shakes his head in an attempt to remove the soot annealing itself to him and his immaculately styled hair after having come through the Floo Network.

He grins. "Don't leave without me, then."

     "Of course not, Theodore." Marlowe says with a small smile as she places a hand on his broad shoulder, ushering him towards the door where Theo began to engage with the Greengrass siblings.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye to us!" Entering the veranda was Gergana and Aleksandr Starkov, a positive kindling beam gracing their aged figures. Phoenix followed behind them, a gentle look hovering within his diaphanous blue eyes as his gaze wavered over his children.

Parting greetings were exchanged all throughout the bundle of people, some dressed for the cold and others who weren't. As Cassia got out of an embrace with her grandmother, she felt a hand touch her shoulder and turned to see her father smiling at her.

"Hi, father." Cassia says to Phoenix, turning fully towards him. "Everything okay?"

Phoenix presses his lips together thinly. "Yes, actually. I was wondering if I could have a small word with you before you left?"

"Yeah, okay," says Cassia, but she frowns. What on earth could this be about? The sobriety with which her father spoke to her in hadn't gone unnoticed. His hand trails her shoulder as he brings her over to one of the doors, a small stretch away from where everyone was situated.

"What's wrong?" Cassia asks.

"Er—nothing, Cass. I just..." he sighs. "I'm not sure how to put this."

"Put what?"

Phoenix scratches the back of his ear, before signing once more. "I know all that your mother, and everyone else have said about you and Harry Potter—"

Cassia's eyes widen and she inwardly groans. Is this what she thought it was?

"Father—"

"No, just listen to me," Phoenix says with caution. Reluctantly, Cassia nods, even though she had no say in the matter. "Harry Potter... he's a very unfortunate boy. And he's been through a lot, and more will keep on coming for him."

More will keep on coming for him? What?

"And he continues to find himself into trouble," continues Phoenix. "I'm not sure whatever is happening between the two of you, but I just want you to be safe and keep out of trouble, and—"

Cassia grimaces. She really didn't want the conversation to have reached that stage.

"Father, I don't need to have the "talk"—"

"But this isn't the "talk"." Phoenix interjects, and a somewhat reassuring smile overcomes him. "This is just me telling you to be safe in anything that you do. This boy has enemies, people wanting to kill him. These type of people show no mercy towards whoever comes in their way. Cedric Diggory proved that much to those of us with brain cells. The last thing I could ever want is for any of you to come in harms' way."

She processed the words slowly. Okay, admittedly, she saw the point her father was approaching. He just didn't want her to get riled up in all of the trouble Harry inadvertently landed himself into. Phoenix just wanted her to be safe. There was nothing wrong with that.

(But why did part of him seem so frightened to speak it?)

Cassia smiles. "Of course, Father. I'll stay out of trouble."

Phoenix smiles, a relieved, comforted smile. "I love you. I just want you to stay safe." He hugs his daughter, and she wraps her arms around his waist since he was a bit taller.

"Thank you, Father." says Cassia happily. "I'll see you at Easter."

But after a moment of realisation, Phoenix frowns. "You shouldn't come home."

"Wait, what?"

"What I mean is that your O.W.L's will be fast-approaching soon after the holidays. You should stay in the castle and make use of Hogwarts' library, which is by any means much more extensive than ours. As much as I'd love to see you again sooner, you cannot risk such an important time."

"Oh," Cassia's mouth parts open slightly. "Okay."

"Yeah?" Phoenix smiles hesitantly. "Do you know at all what it is you're wanting to be?"

     Cassia purses her lips. She doesn't exactly know what she wants to be in life. She wants to be able to help people and perhaps revolutionise something. But she's not sure what. She's always been good at Potions as a subject as well as Muggle Studies and History of Magic, but then, the three of them don't correspond at all. She wouldn't want to become a Professor, teaching just isn't her thing, she wouldn't want to become a Potioneer of sorts because that just seemed tedious, and becoming a Healer seemed like a bit too much of a gory profession for Cassia... she isn't squeamish, she just doesn't think it's for her. She's great at languages too, which could definitely help her. And that's not to say she doesn't like Potions — she does. (Without Snape as a teacher it'd be even better.) Potions is interesting and a combination of all the elements towards one final product. She likes that. She likes being hands-on. Potions is practically the wizard version of "Chemistry", which Cassia has also heard of many times. She's not one to diss Muggle sciences as if they don't exist, because they do. Sure, many entitled, pureblooded Wizards find no need to appreciate the use of ordinary sciences such as Biology, Chemistry, Physics, within their lives when they have magic at hand but Cassia does. How else could magic account for the elements within water? How could magic account for the photosynthetic process, the speed of light — or even just simple movement in general. It would be foolish to not take such a thing into account. Science was always going to be there, whether people liked to accept it or not.

     Anyways.

     "I'm not sure yet," Cassia tells him.

     A mere smile punctuated Phoenix's face, his eyes flitting to the ground momentarily, before looking back to his daughter and seeing the exact same piercing, diamond-like blue eyes. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Keep me updated."

     They head back to the group and the parting exchanges have been given, the four Hogwarts students and Marlowe seating themselves in the roomy, large Ministry car, with the two seats to the back of the driver facing the three seats in front.

"What did Father want to talk to you about?" asks Astoria as the vehicle begins to move.

Cassia scratches her chin. "He—uh—he told me to watch myself. And keep out, er, of trouble."

"What for?" Daphne inquires with a frown creasing her forehead.

"Because I'm, like, friends with Harry, you know?"

Daphne raises an eyebrow. Theo coughs and everyone is sure they can hear something along the lines of "liar" hacking along too.

"I'm not lying!" Cassia frowns. "Father told me to be careful and stay out of trouble!"

"Yeah, we believe that, clever," Daphne admonishes with a roll of the eyes. "It's the "friends" part that strikes me."

"I—"

"Because you two are so obviously not," Astoria interjects.

"But—"

"And—" Theo begins but was brashly cut off at the venomous look in Cassia's eyes, his mouth clamping shut.

"Cut me off once more and you'll wish you hadn't." Cassia warns them all. She sighs. "Me and Harry are friends, okay. Just friends."

"For now," Daphne coughs into her fisted hand.

     But this time, Cassia doesn't bother to retaliate.

Cassia turns to her mother, who seemed amused by this exchange. "Is Father okay?"

Marlowe furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how has he been? When he was talking to me he seemed quite... worried. Almost scared. Do you know why that is?"

Marlowe ponders to herself for a moment, her sleek black hair in a glossy trail cutting off below the juncture of her shoulders. "If anything, Cass, he's probably been really busy with work. He's returned home late most nights, said there'd been loads of administrative issues with his work."

"Okay..." Cassia trails off, though she wasn't at all contented with this explanation, whether her mother knew of what was going on with her father or not... Something was up with her father, and something made him much more nervous. Cassia just wasn't sure what.

———

WITHIN THE DISSIPATE OF A WEEK, THE WAFTY ZEPHYRS and assigned, god-forsaken essays, the pages and pages of parchment rifling through the eternal pyramid that was the rejected coursework, Cassia found herself breathlessly keeping on top of the abrupt pile of homework set by all her teachers, enduring tight dinner breaks to enable her to spend her evenings studying in the library, her hair often dragged into lofty top-knots, seen engaging in rare, revered banter with Theo in the libraries of articulations within her books that she wouldn't otherwise have found humorous had she not been in a completely study-ingrained mindset. She was thankful when the moment to laugh came to her rather than having to exercise her hand cramp further, even if the humour came from a derogatory comment of a discombobulated troll in her History of Magic textbook. With it only being a week, the teachers found it completely valid to berate the students constantly about your exams being in six months and that if you don't pick up the pace now then you'll never be successful in life.

(Alternatively yet completely relevant, when a stressed Professor Flitwick had his own angry outburst at the beginning of a deranged and exhaustive morning Charms lesson that "Maybe you would get further in life if you didn't get your bag stuck IN THE DOOR, CORNER!" Again, an unforeseen source of amusement, seeing the look of sheer panic and alarm on Michael Corner's face. Though it was definitely proved true that no one dared to aggravate the dwarf professor that lesson.)

And above it all, above all the stress and work and having to flop onto bed nearly every night not even bothering to change out of the hoodie and leggings being worn while studying, Cassia still managed to find the time to rally her friends for their clandestine Defence "study group". Professor Umbridge still wasn't teaching them the way she should and the only practice of useful, defensive spells for them would be those of every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday evening, when Draco Malfoy would be too busy tormenting other students with his overconfident Prefect and Inquisitorial Squad powers and wouldn't care what his friends were up to, and when most Slytherins had occupied the Common Room to the point no one would care that a small handful of students weren't in sight.

"Blaisey, it's you and me," says Cassia, jumping to her feet. In Cassia, Maryam and Eva's dormitory, the bed posts had been cleared to the sides and the mattresses were being used as protective cushions to fall back onto should there be any need for it. Large cushions had been Conjured and were placed at various corners of the room, leaving the others space within the room to sit and train their eyes on those in combat.

Now, Cassia stood at the opposite end from the handsome, dark-skinned Italian, here and poised in front of her and prepared to retaliate. She gives a teasing, provoking grin to Blaise, whose stoic expression remained firm. (Cassia knew he was smiling on the inside. He just hardly showed it on the outside.) A small distance away from Cassia's feet were Daphne and Tracey, huddled together and sharing a pillow, giving Cassia encouraging words to which Blaise scoffed offensively at. But in the end, Cassia's eyes were trained on Blaise, and as she felt her breath lightly puff a strand of hair out of her eyes she witnessed his mouth make the smallest of movements, and made the automatic move.

"Expelliarmus!" "Impedimenta!"

Blaise Zabini had been faintly outwitted when his wand flew from his grasp, ascending sharply into the air and being caught by Cassia, a rapid reflex securing the wand deep within her hold as a complacent, satisfied simper sneaks its way across the girl's face, a complete contrast to that scowl as the Italian becomes aware that he'd been outsmarted. And everyone claps as Cassia takes a court, teasing bow, before throwing Blaise his wand back.

"That wasn't fair," Blaise growls.

Cassia scoffs. "That was the fairest by far. At least I didn't get Maryam to start singing distracting Quidditch songs this way round."

Blaise grunts. Cassia laughs warmly, throwing an arm around Blaise's neck which weighed him down considerably, and ruffled his hair.

"Cheer up, Blaisey!" She says encouragingly.
"I'm sure Tori wouldn't want her man to have a permanent frown. That's not very attractive at all."

It was Theo's turn next against Daphne and before he takes his place, he holds out a fist to bump sparingly against Cassia's.

"You're getting better," he tells her.

She yawns inaptly. "And tired-er."

Theo sniggers. "Yet you seem to be losing your vocab skills alongside."

She frowns. "Shut it." Her eyes lead over towards the old-looking box sprawled open on the floor where Theo sat. "Is that it? The book your mother gave you?"

Theo smiles before nodding. "Yeah, it's her book. You can read it if you want. There's quite a good few spells in it. Mother seemed to have been really good at Defence."

Cassia gives him a nods before sending a grin over to Daphne, who'd gotten into a stance. Crossing her legs together, she sat on the pillow Theo once had and cradles the large journal in her lap, the old, crimped, tinted pages rigid and creased with what seemed like an abundance of coffee stains and littered with many messy, disorderly and giddy scribbles and doodles. Some of which said, X is the best or a stickman drawing of a girl saying Here's a drawing of Luce. Lots of love, X, and there certainly were a never ending amount of likeminded annotations along the tops, bottoms and sides of the pages, clouding around Luciana Nott's descriptions, lists and diagrams of her time as a Defence Against the Dark Arts student. Thee was another handwriting Cassia couldn't recognise, that wrote down little love poems in spontaneous places, and Cassia felt slightly... abashed to see them. She felt like she was intruding on something.

     The thin pages had girded quite notably, likely from the aftermath of drying after a spilt coffee or being caught in the pelting rain. But nonetheless, the journal proved to be most durable after all this time. Cassia wondered who X was. A lover of Luciana's? No one ever properly told her what the woman was like before her unfortunate marriage, and it was highly unlikely that Theo himself would know. It was almost as if the woman wanted to keep her past a secret.

But then, just as Cassia turns the page to find an account of inanimate defence (practically, using an inanimate object in defence) a square image fell from within. Curiously, she peers at the picture, faint of colour with prolonged time and looking like the dried residue of a teabag being left on a white tissue, that yellowed brown colour, fraying at the edges, the sides of the picture peeling apart slightly.

     However the image and the frames moving within still seemed as clear as the light of day. It happened to be at a Christmas party, because there'd were decorations all around. Undoubtedly, a younger Luciana Nott — or Luciana D, as the journal said, whatever surname D was — still with voluptuous, ample lips and ringlets that spiralled like springs of a rusted metal colour, a coppery brown. Her teeth were bared as she moved with the laughter sprouting from her mouth, in between a striking man of similar coppery hair and an attractive boy with longer hair and dark, soft curls, flaking up at his ears. It seemed as if the boy of black hair was enamoured with Luciana, his dark grey eyes a cacophonous display of glossy emotions as he witnessed the splendour that was her laugh, while the other boy, no doubt taller than them both, had his arm slung around Luciana's shoulders, laughing abundantly at something someone had said in the background from the way their necks had been craned towards the faraway direction. But it couldn't rival the bewitched gaze of that other boy, the one with smooth, curly black hair. Perhaps he had been a suitor of hers? Or a past lover... Cassia did feel slightly relieved to be wholeheartedly convinced that the boy gazing at Luciana with such adoration was not Theodore Nott Senior. She didn't think he was capable of looking at someone like that. And anyways, he would've looked older. The scribing at the bottom said circa. 1978. Nott would have been in his mid-twenties. Luciana was easily seventeen, young, and innocent.

     "Hey, Theo—"

     About to raise awareness of this picture to her best friend, Cassia lifts her head, her eyebrows furrowed, only to be stricken abruptly with the image of a flash and Theo getting thrown back onto the mattress behind him. Small wisps of smoke billow where Theo once stood, and where Daphne once stood, there was now a girl entirely pleased and satisfied with her accomplishment. Tracey gets up and high-fives her best friend, the two sniggering as Theo slowly disengages, getting up to a sitting position with his robes having flipped upside down and over his head and while his hair stands up on its ends, as if electrocuted.

     "This is injustice," says Theo dramatically, jumping to his feet like a backwards leaping frog. He attempts to puff out his chest while his robes are still upturned and halfway up his neck. "Us guys are outnumbered. There's too much femininity in here."

     Eva sniggers, her legs brought up to her chest seated on a pillow, watching the exchange. "Calm down, Theodore." She says slowly and petulantly, "I'm sure your wounded masculinity can handle getting Stunned by a girl."

     Theo retaliates by picking up the nearest pillow and forcefully chucking it Eva's direction, resulting in a ragged sprawl of unkempt golden blonde curls. A pillow is harshly reciprocated Theo's way from Eva as he loosely drops himself down on the pillow beside Cassia, a defeated sigh escaping from his mouth.

     "There's too many girls here," says Theo, as if it seemed unnatural that there were girls in a girls dormitory.

     Cassia grins, nudging his side. "You'd fit in just perfect, then, Theadora."

     An offended exclamation falls from his mouth and Cassia leaps out of her spot before he has the chance to swat her with the pillow in his hands, but she returns, laughing, and proceeds to displaying the picture she found to the Nott boy . . .

———

CLASSES DONT SEEM TO GET ANY BETTER AS JANUARY IS COMING TO AN END. By the time Cassia is ready to head to Transfiguration, half of her hair had been dragged up into a bobble, many incongruous strands fanning down the sides of her face, her black robe was tucked away safely in her bag due to the decrease in cold temperament as of late, therefore exposing the long sleeves of her exposed white shirt —stifling and itchy in its entirety— rolled up to her elbows, yet still choosing to wear her opaque black tights beneath her pleated skirt. A textbook was clutched to her chest with both hands, her fingers trailing the spine and inner edges, her backpack rested against her shoulder blades, while the heels of her black boots clacked against the stone of the floor while she made her way to class. At this stage in the day, she has already been assigned a lengthy History of Magic essay, predictions for Divination, Charms practice as well as having to rewrite the entire Defence syllabus till thus far.

And it apparently gets even worse after Easter.

Kill her.

     Cassia's not entirely sure where she lost Theo but she's walking this corridor alone, while various others follow and backtrack the Slytherin girl. That is, until a familiar presence hovers beside her own figure and she's yet again acquainted with that head of disheveled dark hair she'd never once thought she'd become so enthusiastically delighted in the presence of.

     "Hi," says Harry. He adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

      "Hey," Cassia replies. She grins. "How are you?"

     "Splendid." He says. "You?"

     "Exhausted," sighs Cassia, and they laugh. "You going to Transfiguration?"

     Harry nods. "You think McGonagall will give us homework?"

     Cassia releases an exasperated breath. "I hope not. Wouldn't be surprised if we did, though."

     "Yeah," says Harry. "Hey — so — I realised something."

     Cassia nods her head. "What?"

     "We've been at school over a week," says Harry. "Yet I haven't told you what happened before the holidays."

     Cassia smiles. "I know. Thought you should take your time. Been too busy with work anyways." She waits a moment before adding, "But, I had still been wondering."

     Harry grins. "I made a promise. This Saturday, Hogsmeade? Same time as last?"

     She'd probably have been lying if she denied the fluttering hollow within her stomach at the mention of this, but that didn't mean it was such a bad thing. She had so much fun on her first date with Harry, she would never be impartial to another. So it's a given.

     "Plan." says Cassia, smiling as they reached the Transfiguration class where a flock of restless students had begun entering. She sees Theo sitting in their usual desk as she walks in before Harry. "I'll see you on Saturday, then?"

     Harry smiles. "See you later."

     Cassia takes her seat beside Theo, and lets a lengthy exhale escape her mouth. Thank goodness this was the last class today and that it was dinner after. Not only was she exhausted, but her stomach was rumbling. She has the feeling that studying more does stuff to your metabolism, but she's not sure. All she knows is that her eating capacity almost matches that of Theo's, which is saying something considering his inability to even put on a single pound regardless of how much butter he heaps onto his toast in the morning or if he decides to take an extra helping of dessert. Boys and their metabolism. Either way, Cassia isn't complaining. She loves being able to eat more now, even if the volcanic grumbles coming from her stomach weren't the most pleasant thing at current.

     "Another date with Potter, I take it?" says Theo, his voice hinting boredom. Cassia rolls her eyes but smiles.

     "Shut up." She tells him.

     "Good afternoon, everyone," says Professor McGonagall. "Today we will be working on switching two targets side-by-side. For this, we shall be using a porcupine and a cushion."

     The elderly teacher's wand waved towards a crate and a cardboard box — the crate of which carried a hoard of porcupines, which Cassia and Theo both failed in avoiding sharp pricks from upon its placing onto her desk while the cushions had been situated in the cardboard box and were gently placed on the tabletop, prick-free. As this was happening and while Cassia places her hands flat upon the cushion because it was soft, she feels something brush past the strand of hair falling by her face and the next time her eyes land on the violet cushion, she sees a clearly neat, folded paper bird.

Cassia's eyes dart backwards, from where the origami bird fluttered over from. She's met with the condescending, hard cold stare of Draco Malfoy's, his grey eyes an endless oblivion of curiosity to whomever decides to gaze within. There was a pointed, acidic hardness to his stare, yet it seemed to be imploring in a fashion that depended on Cassia unfolding the paper bird. So she does, and part of Cassia hates to undo the intricate foldings of Malfoy's.

I have to tell you something. 1pm on Saturday, my bedroom. Don't let anyone know.

What the fuck?

Cassia looks back. Draco is still looking at her with the same intensity and scowl. Demanding, yet stoic.

What on earth would Draco Malfoy want to tell Cassia? Especially when there had been an extreme lack of contact between them lately, and especially since they most definitely have not been the best of buddies either. She'd have to wait until after class. And when that Transfiguration lesson does end up finishing, with Cassia successfully managing to perform the displacement spell between the two objects, people start to file out of the class. Professor McGonagall had been the first claiming she had other duties to attend to, but Cassia remains as the bustling, enervated blurs of those fellow classmates scuffle past her, patched rucksacks lumbering within the crowd. Before leaving Theo looks to her in confusion, an eyebrow raised.

"You coming?" He asks her.

"You go ahead," says Cassia. "I'll be a minute." Theo nods and leaves without another word.

There were only few remained in the classroom now, and it was silent if not for the sound of heel clicks against the stone flooring. Another person leaves, and so does another, and it was only Cassia and the Malfoy boy. His limpid movements are tracked with his strides advancing down the aisle in between the desks.

Before he passes her down the aisle, Cassia seizes his upper arm unforgivingly, halting him sharply in his tracks. She releases it as he turns around slowly, a hesitation delaying his movement.

"What was that all about?" asks Cassia.

"I should think it was perfectly clear," says Malfoy, who leans his hands against one of the desktops. He truly was a handsome guy, according to Cassia. His cutting jawline and flaxen, platinum blonde tresses, lacking the order he once exercised so rigorously. His robe zipped away in his bag, his emerald green tie fastener into the crevice of his collar, canvas long sleeves fastened right at the wrist with a dark sleeveless pullover comfortably fitting his miraculously muscly body. His porcelain skin, slashing in the scarce rays of sunlight spilling through the windows, an the abyss that were his frigid grey eyes. It's a shame his personality often ruined him.

"Don't act smart." Cassia rolls her eyes. "You haven't had any good reason to talk to me in months. Why now?"

"Can't it wait? I can't say it here."

"Why not? We're alone, there's nobody else here. And what's so important that it has to be alone?"

Malfoy strides off to the door. "Just stop asking questions and be there on Saturday."

"Malfoy—"

He cuts her off with a sneer. "No doubt the stubbornness you've inherited from your boyfriend. It won't work. Come on Saturday. It'll all make sense." He hovers in the doorstep for a moment longer. "And bring Daphne too."

Cassia lets out a scoff to herself as he disappears from sight. The sheer audacity of this boy! Insulting her and then making demands? Who does he think he is? And what the hell did this all mean?

The only issue remaining was if Cassia would follow with the demands, and if she would succumb to the festering fire that was her curiosity.

———

SATURDAY ROLLS BY, AND CASSIA IS TORN BETWEEN HER PROSPECTS.

     She's wearing a button-up shirt with a woolly black jumper pulled on top, the collar reaching high up to her neck and giving her warmth from the day's chilly winds, as well as a pair of slim denim mom jeans, frayed at the ankles. She braided two strands of her auburn hair at either side and pinned them up with clips along the side of her head, the rest flowing in spurts of waves.

Her reflection is what stares back at her as she's contemplating her decision. She did have a date with Harry later on, but Malfoy did want to see her too. And Daphne, for that matter. Only question is, why? She'd love to find out. But she's not exactly in a good place with Malfoy at the moment, and he's not exactly been very likeable.

Cassia doesn't know what to do.

"Thought I might find you in here."

Daphne stood in the archway that was the door for the shared bathrooms, her auburn hair being combed back by a crescent-like headband. Daphne smiles at her twin, watching the girl with her makeup bag balanced between the mirror and the tap handle, various products scattered in the spaces between.

"That first year said you would be in here," says Daphne. "Bless her, she was adorable. She said you wanted to see me?"

Cassia nods, and while she's about to fan the blusher brush over her cheeks, Daphne's strode over and gently taken the brush instead, applying the makeup for Cassia.

"Malfoy wants to see us." says Cassia, her eyebrow arched, jutting her cheek towards Daphne.

"Oh?" Daphne stops for a minute, her head leaning back. "What for?"

"No idea. He said it was top secret. Only to bring you. Can't be good, can it?"

Daphne sighs, dropping the brush limply into the glittery cosmetic bag. "It never is with him." Her nail taps the back of the sink bowl, the glass tinkling with every beat, and she purses her lips. "You're going on a date with Potter, correct?"

Cassia nods.

"Maybe we should go and see what Malfoy wants, then." says Daphne. "Just let the guy speak. You and Dearest Harry can meet after."

"Yeah, okay." Cassia agrees, providing Daphne with the faintest of smiles. Truth be told, she didn't want to go see Malfoy. But he said he had something to say, so letting him say it seemed at least the most viable of options. She just hoped his news wasn't as foreboding as the way she was feeling right now.

With that, they embark on the route out of the communal bathrooms and on towards the boys' dormitories. It's a chilly day, but it was definitely clear enough for a leisured stroll in Hogsmeade, which Cassia was sure she would be doing in due time. Mermaids were seen zooming past the blurred, emerald windows with spears at their forthcoming and the Lake itself was anything but turbulent, calmly emanating bubbles through what little air there was present. The boy's dorm wasn't difficult to get into. Unlike the girl's dorms, which were spelled to prevent any boys from entering, the boys dorm had no protective enchantment. Therefore, given that they'd already cracked the code and found out how to get Theo and Blaise into the girl's dorm for their "study group", a simple walk up to the boy's dorm wasn't a massive feat. All they had to make sure of was staying undetected.

Cassia remembers being up here in the identically patterned dormitory corridor a few times before. Blaise had called her up when Theo caught a severe flu — to which they took him to Madam Pomfrey after — and she's been up early in the mornings to surprise Theo when it had been his birthday too. Point is, it's not unfamiliar in any sense. There's hardly a difference between them and the girl's — apart from obvious ones. The decor is mainly the same, with deep green walls and dark carpeting, and the doors were of a rich mahogany wood. They reach the door Cassia recognised as Theo's — thereby Draco's — and knocks.

      The door opens. Draco Malfoy stands there in his weekend attire, his expression hard. Rather than greeting them, he peeks his head out of the doorway and ushers the two girls into his room hastily.

     "No hi?" Daphne remarks flippantly. "No "how are you"? No "thanks for coming to this completely bizarre thing for what unnatural reason you had to force upon us"?"

     Malfoy rolls his eyes as he watches the two girls stand with unorthodox style in the middle of his room, Cassia's arms clutching her sides somewhat consciously as she surveys her surroundings, Daphne on the other hand looking highly unimpressed — with either the mess in Crabbe and Goyle's side of the room or having been summoned at this time and place? Both were completely valid.

     "Relax, Daphne," says Malfoy. "You'll get back to Parkinson soon enough."

     Daphne's eyebrows cross, "What—?"

     "I presume you two want to know why I've asked you here today?" Malfoy cuts her off, and looks at the two with an imploring nature.

     "Really? You think so?" Cassia purses her lips, her shallow sarcasm imminent.

     Malfoy scowls at them. "You can sit down, you know."

     "I don't want to sit," says Daphne.

     "We want to know what you need to say," says Cassia. "And why you're stalling."

     Malfoy is about to protest, but sighs instead. He appears hesitant. Like whatever he wanted to tell them required a lot of apprehensive thought beforehand. Which only heightened the curiosity of the twins before him.

     Daphne taps her foot against the ground, "We're waiting..."

     "I'm getting there." Malfoy says slowly. "Merlin, since when did you two get so insufferable?"

     "Since when have you not been a prat?" Cassia counters, tightening her folded arms together.

     Malfoy glares. The twins glare back.

     Malfoy decides to talk. "As you know, with everything that's happened, and with his return..."

     "So you finally admit it?" Daphne says forcefully, her eyes a stabbing fury.

"I knew it all along," Malfoy says with stiffness. "As I was saying... he is back, and currently, he is staying at our Manor...—"

"Wait, you're actually letting that psycho stay at your home?" says Cassia, her eyes wide. Why the Malfoy's would allow Voldemort to stay with them was completely beyond her. He was a terrorist? She thought they were smarter than that.

But Malfoy says, "Some things are beyond our control, believe it or not. And don't call him that."

Cassia narrows her eyes, but doesn't prod further.

Malfoy continues: "Throughout the summer and even at a point in Christmas, your father appeared at the Manor quite a few times... and I hadn't thought much of it at first but it eventually dawned on me..."

"What did?"

Malfoy glowers are them. "I'm getting there. As he stays with us, our Manor was the prime base for any Death Eaters to see him... many people were coming in and out, and your father was often among them..."

"What do you mean?" Daphne demands brashly. "What does this mean, Malfoy?"

But Cassia already had an idea... And she thinks that with the way Daphne's question had been asserted, so did she...

In the end, Malfoy took one look at the two girls, two of the most beautiful, remarkable and most compassionate girls in their year, and hesitates. It was ironic, really. He had been one of the ones to treat them the worst yet here he was, dragging them both into his dorm room, willing to reveal to them what he knows could potentially destroy them. But he isn't doing it for that reason. He doesn't want to cause harm, even if there will be collateral damage. He wants to help them protect themselves. Because deep down, the tormented, cruel bully, was a loyal Slytherin. And he cared about the Greengrass sisters.

So he takes a deep breath.

"Your father's a Death Eater."

With those five words, Cassia feels as though the world is closing in on her.

***

HI🤠

did u expect that?? who'd have ever thought it'd be MALFOY to break the news to them😳anyways shit's going down in the next chapter beware but i feel like you guys are gonna love me and hate me so i'll leave it at that😁😁

also idc about jk rowling and the fact she completely ignored malfoy's development potential like bruh??? yes malfoy is a bully but he's also scared && people seem to forget that he does care about people??? he doesn't have no feelings???? SO like alongside the entire plot of this fic i'm also gonna try my best to add in a bit of ✨development✨ for malfoy!!! but he's still gonna have to become a death eater anyways i ain't changing that😐😔

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS!!! make sure to leave ur thoughts and stay safe and healthy!!! idk when the next chapter will be out but hopefully soon depending on school💖💖💖💖💖