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THEODORE NOTT WAS FREAKING OUT.

     He had been freaking out for the past few weeks. Only, he managed to hide it well. Hide it beneath an abundance of poker faces, forced lies and somewhat natural laughter. If there was one thing he'd learnt well in his life, it was how to hide his emotions. He'd been doing it for the past almost sixteen years.

     It was just that Theo was finding it difficult to grasp that the Phoenix Greengrass was now a Death Eater. Like, what? That was his best friend's dad. Cassia's, Daphne's, and Astoria's. How could he... how. Just... how?

     There was one more thing that Theo just couldn't get his head around. This. What happened in his head. Was it... was it all true? Was it all, like, a vision? Was Theo some kind of a Seer? He found that hard to believe. He'd never even set foot into a single Divination class in his life. He was so sure there was never any Seer blood on his dad's side of the family. And he hardly knew anything about his mother's side of the family, so, okay, that made room for possibility. Was Theo a Seer? One that had such vivid visions that he literally fainted every single time they occurred? He just... didn't know anymore. Theo didn't know. And he wished he did.

     You would think that for a person with such thoughts to be reoccurring in one's head so friggin' much, that Theo wouldn't have time to think over anything else. His mind was occupied, full-stop. You'd think this would affect his studies... his social life... and in a way, it had. Theo wants to work so much more harder to convince himself that there's nothing wrong with him. That he's still a top-mark O.W.L student. That his friendship with Cassia Greengrass should never be something to doubt, even when Theo was keeping such a big thing from her. That Theo was, for the most part, his usual self. But he hadn't been. Not for a long while. Not since... Cedric Diggory's death.

     That night, he had this feeling. That something was going to happen. It wasn't just a loose prediction, or whatever. It was a feeling. Like he knew that thing would happen, whether or not it was just an estimation. He's not saying that he, like, knew Cedric Diggory was gonna die, word-for-word — but something definitely felt off that day. With that day itself and, with him.

Then there was obviously more. There was the time he'd, like, seen inside of his father's office without actually stepping inside of it? It was the start of a confusing series of events. The time on the first day of school after breakfast when he collapsed into Cassia's arms. Literally. It was as if someone grabbed a hammer and used the spike end to wrack his brains apart. It didn't hurt, and it wasn't sore — it was just... discomforting. There was that time then, in his dormroom. With Draco, after their apparent argument. And he... he saw people. Not the good kind. He now knew who they were. Each and every single one of those people were Death Eaters, and for the most part, Lord Voldemort. It was Lucius Malfoy, definitely. And... something told him the other man was Enoch Abercrombie. He... he saw the eyes. Piercing, icy, sharp... just like that of his classmate Eva's. He thinks that coincidence is out of the equation by now. Now, Theo knew he should probably have told Cassia about this. It was a confirmation that Enoch Abercrombie was really a Death Eater. But he wasn't ready... it would mean he'd have to tell her about her father. And it would mean that Theo would have to tell her what was up with him.

And Theo wasn't ready to tell Cassia what was wrong with him when he didn't even know himself.

Which is why he absolutely knew he couldn't tell Cassia about her dad. What if... what if it wasn't true? What if Theo was just a... really vivid daydreamer! That would make much more sense... Because what on earth would drive such a family-driven man as Phoenix Greengrass to become a Death Eater? But... even if he was, there was something else about it. He had this resentful look on him. Like, as if Phoenix's entire world was crashing down and he couldn't do anything about it. Or perhaps this was the only thing he could do about it. It just seemed like... Phoenix Greengrass was in too deep.

But, no... This probably... it probably wasn't real. Theo just dreams. He didn't see the future, or the present, or whatever. Theo wasn't a Seer. That was just stupid.

     (There was one thing that especially didn't make sense to Theo — in this whole sea of things that didn't make sense. He hadn't seen his father at all in these "dreams" of his? He saw everyone else... but his father. And not that he was complaining, you know, since Theo hates his father and is dreading the day he has to go back to the Manor and see him again — but it was still just... weird. All of it was weird.)

And anyways, Theo would never want to be a mood dampener (for Cassia, at least). The Christmas holidays was just a week away... the aura around Hogwarts, what with the gigantic trees brought in by Hagrid, Professor Flitwick's extensive decorating and with holly and mistletoe decorating the corridors, certain awkward and reluctant students ducking out, avoiding unforeseen circumstances, and it was all so... jolly, as clichéd as it sounds. And Cassia seemed really really happy, too. For one, they decided to cease the investigation into Enoch Abercrombie for the moment, deciding — no — Theo declaring that along with the O.W.L work decreasing, Cassia should get a break herself. He told her to pick it back up after the holidays. And because of the break she seemed so much more invigorated, and energised, and not as worked up. And he was happy. Cassia deserved to thrive, that much Theo knew.

But along with the weight of schoolwork being lifted off of her shoulders, there was something more that lifted her spirits. In a few days, she would be going on her date with Harry Potter. And Theo doesn't like the guy, he can admit that easily. (Seriously, he gets shivers when he thinks about that day in the bathroom... how fucking weird.) But Cassia had a thing for Harry, and Theo knew this. Her self-denial did not have any validation. So... he also didn't want to ruin this for her. She deserved to go on and enjoy her date with Harry, and it would be downright harsh of Theo to impede upon that.

(And Theo was glad that nothing else had happened since his encounter with Harry. Apart from him glaring at the boy if they made the dreaded eye contact. You know, the usual stuff.)

No, Theo wouldn't tell Cassia. It was the best option. He just hoped the eventual outcome wouldn't bite him in the back.

ONE WOULD THINK THAT DAPHNE GREENGRASS LOVED to use her sister's bed as a vaulting mat. If anything, the oldest Greengrass (By seven minutes, just remember) had the agile, lean frame that would be able to pull off the most perfect acrobatic stunts. She often spent time in the Greengrass Manor with a spare mattress trying to perfect summersaults or teaching her sisters how to do, like, backflips, or handstands, and Daphne proved to be a great teacher. Cassia and Astoria were now experts in the art of flipping over. Daphne was naturally flexible and had even up-taken the hobby of yoga, finding it gave her the peace of mind she sometimes needed...

Anyways, back to the vault mat where Cassia Greengrass was tranquilly sleeping, her auburn waves sprawled across the pillow clumsily with a musing smile on her lips, still in a sleep-induced stupor. But of course Daphne had to come thrashing into the room, awakening Eva, her luscious blonde locks spiralling down her back in a fashion unfathomably beautiful for having just woken up, and Maryam, her dark hair an abundance of frizz tamed into an exasperated ponytail. Each had their pyjamas on, obviously, Eva wearing a luxurious silk tank top and pyjama bottoms set and Maryam, a long sleeved cotton shirt and tartan bottoms. Upon glancing around, Daphne saw she'd also awoken her sister's other two roommates that she'd had hardly ever seen around. And Cassia remained asleep, until Daphne made the leap and front-flipped onto the mattress, right on top of Cassia who immediately groaned at the pressure that just impeded on her chest. Daphne only grins. Partly because of what she came into Cassia's room for, but also because she narrowly missed the wooden frame lining the top of the bed, avoiding a concussion and eternal embarrassment.

When Cassia stirs, her expression contorted with confusion but her eyes nonetheless scrunched close, Daphne grabs ahold of her shoulders, shaking them vigorously. Maryam and Eva come to watch the scene, positively amused given the fact Daphne was practically straddling the girl underneath and Cassia still had no idea that her twin had front-flipped onto her bed.

"Wake up, Cass!"

     Cassia grunts from underneath the heaped weight that was Daphne, shifting uncomfortably as she rubbed her eye with fisted hands. She had difficulty getting into a sitting position, and when Daphne realised she was still on top of her, she awkwardly clambered off and stood in the midst of Maryam and Eva, clasping her hands to her front.

     The duvet covers ruffle as the sleepy girl beneath emerges, and as soon as her vision clears and she's looking directly at her twin, she scowls.

     "You can't even leave me alone when I'm asleep?"

     Daphne guffaws loudly, flipping her glossy auburn tresses to the side. "You're lucky we don't share a room. Then I'd be even worse."

     Alongside a petulant furrow of the eyebrows, Cassia huffs through her nostrils. "Who's getting married, then? Why else did you have to wake me up this early?"

Now it was Daphne's turn to frown, an incredulous shortlived breath escaping her. She looks to Eva and Maryam, her head snapping sharply between them. "You're not serious?"

Cassia shrugs, clearly unable to find any significance in her twin's words. Daphne was appalled. "Am I missing something?"

The disbelief on Daphne's face was blatant, and she couldn't believe that Cassia would forget what exactly had energised Daphne into front flipping onto her bed at this early hour. "Um, yes? Think!" She says. "What day is it today?"

     "Saturday?" says Cassia. Daphne scowls further, so Cassia decides to think on it more to appease her twin. "Okay, um..." Her eyebrows are furrowed for a few seconds before a wave of realisation clashes into her still-drowsy morning thoughts, and she finds her eyes widening, her lips parting open a millimetre. Daphne thinks they've gotten onto something. She was right. "I'm going on a date with Harry today."

     A rush of hyperactive glee spreads throughout Daphne, and she inhales as if taking in the zephyrs of a faint summer's breeze. Which wasn't the case. It was a week to Christmas, it was snowing as if it were taking its last breath, and the only fresh air she could get was next to none, from within the dormitory tinted verdantly from the hue of the Great Lake beyond their glass windows. But, to say the least, Daphne was glad Cassia finally remembered, even if it took her a while (Six minutes, but it wasn't like Daphne was counting or anything.)

     "Yes, Cass!" exclaims Daphne, perching herself at the edge of Cassia's bed with a light bounce. She figures it wasn't a good idea to front flip this time. You know, with there being a now sitting, awake girl within the bed that she could potentially crash into. "The day has come. At last. You and Potter have your date! Goodness knows what was going through your mind when you scheduled it this far away."

     Cassia frowns. "We had O.W.L work!"

     Daphne rolls her eyes. "We always have O.W.L work."

     "Okay. Maybe I needed time to, like, come to terms with it?"

     Daphne narrows her eyes, grinning.

     "What are you so excited about it for, anyways!" says Cassia, folding her arms.

     "You think that's excited?" says Maryam.

     Eva sniggers. "You should've seen the front flip she did when she came in!"

     Cassia turns to Daphne, her eyes shooting backwards in her head. "You front flipped onto my bed?"

    Daphne nods. "That, I did."

     Cassia hovers her stare over Daphne for a second, before shrugging. "I don't know why that surprises me."

     Daphne grins. "Okay, so—"

     "You need to teach me how to flip like that!"
Maryam interjects. An excited beam spreads across Daphne's face, becoming positively oblivious to what she'd meant to say.

     "It's all in the arms!" replies Daphne enthusiastically. "You see, the more you swing your arms around your head, the more power it gives you to spin when you jump, and the trajectory is decided when—"

     "Daphne," says Cassia. She still looks partially exhausted, if not overwhelmed that the day of her and Harry's date had finally came. "What were you going to tell me?"

     Daphne frowns for a second, before realising once again her reason for coming into the room, had it not been to exuberantly wake her sister up from a blissful slumber and into the day Cassia had been anticipating for weeks.

     "Oh, yeah!" says Daphne. "So, I decided to front flip onto your bed so that I can help you get ready! You'll be so beautiful — you already are — all the men will fall at your feet! I have my makeup bag," she gestures to a glittery cosmetic bag dropped at the door before her dynamic entrance, "It's got all the essentials to get ready, cute candles, face masks, that really nice smelling perfume you love—"

     "Really?" Cassia gasps, her face lighting up. "You'd let me use your special perfume?"

     "Well, of course!" says Daphne. "It's a very special day! And I figured Maryam could do your hair since, you know, she's been able to do absolute wonders with hers when it's just as frizzy as Granger's sometimes — no offence, Maryam— and Eva can help in picking an outfit! You know, since her style is amazing."

     The reaction Daphne received from Cassia didn't exactly meet her expectations. Rather than showing some sort of excitement or enthralment at her proclamation, but instead her eyebrows furrow, a look of dissatisfaction coming across her.

     "Why do I need an entire team to get me ready?" asks Cassia.

     "Because you hardly ever go on dates!"

     "Yeah, but, it's not a big fuss? I can get ready myself!"

     A punctuated exhale escapes Daphne, and she pouts. "Well, it would be our pleasure if you would let us get you ready. Please?"

     The pouty look Daphne posed with had been enough to persuade Cassia after a momentary pause of thought, shaking her head defeatedly and saying "Sure."

     "Yes!" Daphne exclaims gleefully. She really was excited that she had the chance to be in this. She meant it when she said it would be her priority to get Harry and Cassia together this year. They seemed to be doing well themselves, but, every little helps.

     "The way you're excited about this, Daph," says Maryam, laughing, "One would think that you're the one going on the date!"

     "Are you?" Cassia interjects. Daphne frowns.

     "Well, no!" She answers. "I mean, I'm hanging out with Pans, Tracey is saying she has to help Millie with some Divination homework or whatever, so it's just the two of us. I hardly think that counts as a date, though—"

     Daphne is caught off-guard when she sees the look Cassia is giving her. Almost knowing. But, knowing about what? Her and Pansy? What exactly about them both? They were best friends, and nothing seemed to change that. Something, maybe. But it wasn't, like, as significant as an avalanche? Daphne and Sterling broke up, and Pansy was there for her. But something else was there too... Daphne doubted what exactly that was. It was probably nothing too significant, apart from the two uncannily pretty girls undergoing some well-needed bonding with each other.

     (Doubts can always be proven wrong, though...)

     "We need to get you ready!" says Daphne.

     Cassia lets a hefty sigh escape her. "It's literally eight. I won't be seeing Harry until two. Can I, like, at least shower and have some breakfast and do some homework before you guys apparently do a Vasilisa on me and make all the guys fall at my feet?"

     "Vasilisa?" Eva inquires. Vasilisa the Beautiful was a Russian fairytale Marlowe told the girls at a young age, about a young, beautiful girl called Vasilisa with a magic doll, a father, stepmother and two stepsisters who were horrible to her. Hence the reference, as Vasilisa had "all the men falling at her feet". Marlowe spent her childhood in Bulgaria, so she grew up learning all about various European tales and stories.

     "You know, the fairytale!" says Cassia.

     Maryam and Eva look confused.

     Daphne frowns. "Vasilisa, the girl whose mother died and her father remarried and brought this horrible stepmother and two stepsisters to their home! Haven't you heard of the story?"

     "Evil stepmother and stepsisters?" says Maryam. "Surely you're talking about Cinderella?"

     "Cinderella?" Daphne and Cassia question in unison.

     "Muggle fairytale? Fairy godmother? The Ball? Pumpkin carriage?"

     Daphne and Cassia look confused.

     "And she gets her happily ever after with Prince Charming!" Maryam finishes, frowning that Daphne and Cassia had no clue what she was talking of.

     "I mean..." Cassia trails off, "The ending in Vasilisa the Beautiful is that her horrible stepfamily end up burnt to ash, somehow."

     "Lovely," says Eva.

     "Okay, um, that was a bit off-topic..." Daphne says, raising an eyebrow. "We can't get off schedule! Cass, shower," she throws Cassia her dressing gown, draped over the foot-side board of her bed, "Then I'll see you at breakfast. And then..." Daphne grins craftily, "The real work begins!"

———

DAPHNE WAS A GIRL OF MANY TALENTS, that much, Cassia was envious of. Not only was she a fair hand at makeup, and was amazing at doing people's face paint, as she displayed during Quidditch match days, but she was also really flexible and like she'd already displayed that morning, did a mean front flip. So, obviously Cassia was jealous of her twin at times. But it's not like that was ever much of a problem. Each of the twins had their own special qualities — sure, they were both beautiful, and sure, they were both respectful, but Cassia could name every single constellation in the night sky, able to pick out Cassiopeia before even the sharpest of wits, and she picked up new languages better than anyone, even Theo. She knew and spoke Bulgarian fluently with her grandparents any time they've come to visit the Manor, and when Theo declared he was learning Spanish that day when they saw the Weasley twins, she went back to the dorms with him only to swiftly translate their entire passage of Transfiguration into Spanish, without flinching, hesitating or stumbling an inch. Theo may be smarter, but there was no doubt that Cassia had a much more flexible mind. (And more common sense.) She was the daughter of a Ravenclaw, after all. Oh, and there was also a time when Phoenix was obsessed with playing darts. It's safe to say that at the age of ten, a single bullseye was the bare minimum for Cassia.

Anyways, what was this about? Oh, yeah. Daphne did seem to have a talent for dressing people up. And combined with Eva's taste in fashion and Maryam's miraculous hairstyling hands, there was no doubt that Cassia looks amazing when they finish. There's not much of a difference to her usual look, but that's because she didn't want to come off as having put too much effort in. It was a casual date, so she wanted to look casual too. And her friends and sister understood.

With that being said, Cassia was eventually dressed, and she relished in the smell of Daphne's selection of candles. They were amazing. Maybe she could go to Hogsmeade and visit the shop Daphne got them from. Yeah, sounds like a plan. Cassia's hair was in waves and Maryam did this thing on them so that the ends would descend in a characteristic spiral, and also the strands framing the front of her face. Daphne had done her makeup simple, coating her eyelids thinly with glimmering gold eyeshadow and a sweet blushing tint to her cheeks, (or was that because she was going out with Harry?) and with her lips coated in a shiny, rosy pink lipgloss. As for her outfit, Eva picked out for her a cream dungaree dress, with cute buttons on the straps and down the middle of the dress, with black tights too. There was also a tawny brown knit jumper beneath, that were baggy at the arms but tight at the wrists. Cassia loves it.

     "I love it," says Cassia. She's standing in the full-length mirror propped up against the wall, and Maryam, Eva and Daphne all seem to be peering over her shoulders, an anticipative look on each of their faces. But they all sigh in relief as they see the lingering grin on the girl's face, her hands on her hips as she explores her outfit.

"I knew you would!" squeals Daphne. She grins as she slides both arms around Maryam and Eva's shoulders. "Ladies, we did good." As the three who made up the "entourage" of Cassia high-fives each other enthusiastically, Cassia bustles around the room, picking up her short black boots with the zips going down the side, practically balancing on one leg as she fumbled to put them on. Daphne frowns. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" says Cassia, her hair flipping back as she bends up from her hunched-over position from putting her boots on. "I have a date, in case you forgot the reason you front flipped onto my bed and woke me up so early?"

      "Oh," says Daphne, her eyebrow creasing. "Wait for us then!"

     "No way," Cassia spat, "I don't need you guys to escort me like I'm three?"

     Daphne casually says, "In the dating world, you are."

     Cassia narrows her eyes. (Touché, part of her thought.) "No."

     Daphne also narrows her eyes. "Please?"

     "No."

     "Please?"

     "No."

     "Pretty please?"

     "Adding a pretty at the front won't do anything."

     "Then can I say you look pretty?"

     "Nice try," sniggers Cassia, "But no. You're staying here."

     Daphne huffs grouchily. Eventually, she gives in. "Fine. But, you're telling me everything when you go back. And I mean everything."

"Looking forward to it," remarks Cassia. She picks up her beige winter overcoat, pulls her black beanie on her head, wraps her Slytherin scarf around her neck and pulls her gloves on. "See you later!"

"Have fun!" The three chorus together.

The dungeon door closing behind her, Cassia travels up towards the dungeons and out towards the Entrance Hall, where she remembers arranging to see Harry. She puts her coat on, feeling the shivering fog begin to whip her face, her cheeks flushing with every hoarse breath. She was excited. Really excited. But also nervous. But then, why should she be?

She found Harry waiting in the line for people with permission for Filch, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. Cassia sometimes still found it strange to see Harry in something other than a hoodie whenever she saw him, when that's all she would see him in when they used to meet. He had his Gryffindor scarf tied around his neck, and snowflakes were falling amidst his windswept, tousled dark hair, and his glasses rested characteristically on his nose. But she began to walk towards him, and his eyes wandered over and connected with hers. Harry's face brightened somewhat considerably at the sight of Cassia, and she smiled back.

"Hi," says Cassia.

"Er—hi," says Harry, stumbling in the snow slightly as he made room for Cassia to join him in the line. He couldn't help how his eyes hovered over her for a little longer than they should've... the flushed cheeks, the lenient waves, entangled in snowflakes falling down from the temperamental sky. "You look really—uh, pretty."

Cassia smiles. "Thanks. I'm really excited for today."

     "Yeah," Harry grins, "Me too."

     They reach the front of the queue, and Filch looks at the both of them, and grunts. He sees that they both have permission to go to Hogsmeade and so, lets them get on with their day. With that, the Slytherin and the Gryffindor begin to parade towards the recreational village, amidst an array of vastly tumbling snowflakes. Harry speaks first.

     "Erm—how was your day?" He asks.

     "Good," says Cassia, nodding. Then she frowns. "Actually, weird. Daphne woke me up by front-flipping onto my bed. I mean, I didn't wake up until she managed to shake enough life out of me, but still. It was odd."

     Harry raises an eyebrow. "Your sister front-flips?"

     Cassia nods. "Yep. I can, too. She taught us. But according to Eva and Maryam, she missed the bed frame by, like, an inch."

"That's, um, impressive."

She raises an eyebrow towards him, and laughs. "I'll tell her."

Harry smiles. They come to a halt, and realise that they've reached Hogsmeade, the small village blanketed in a plethora of frost, icicles and snow. But the people around still emanated a sense of jolliness, trudging arm-in-arm with paper bags filled with presents amidst the lit-up village, disposable hot beverages in hand and a beam that would likely be able to penetrate even the cruelest of snowballs to the face. The spirit of Christmas.

"Erm, where do you want to go?" asks Harry.

"It's really cold," says Cassia, "And I'd really like a hot chocolate of sorts. I heard Madam Puddifoot's does hot drinks?"

Harry nods. "Yeah, brilliant." Truth be told, Cassia had never entered the apparently pretentious tea shop before. But, like she said, a warm drink was in order. She hoped it wasn't too bad, and she hoped it wouldn't feel... weird. Considering that she heard only couples would go there to have tea and, well, snog. They found the tea shop, down a small lane, and were immediately bombarded with nothing but pink. It was all pink.

In the opinion of someone else, the tea shop could be seen as cute, and whimsical, and pretty... but Cassia has to do a double take when they arrive at the door, the wood painted in pale cerise, a teal lining along the top depicting "tea and cakes". There was a striped teal and pink curtain in the door, and a lacy doily draping over. The doilies decorated the top of the windows too, of which protruded out slightly and had an array of fragile, decorative teacups and cakes on display. That's not to mention the festive additions. There was a pink Christmas tree, with silver and purple baubles hung all around, and pink, shiny tinsel was lined all across the place. And a pretty nativity scene, too. Which was pink where appropriate.

Cassia looks to Harry. He also seemed to be taken aback by the grandiose, flowery appearance of the tea shop. But when he sees Cassia looking at him, he clears his throat, and opens the door, a tinkling bell being heard.

"After you," says Harry. Cassia smiles, more like a grimace, before entering, instantaneously feeling suffocated by the amount of people holding hands, snogging, or gazing thoughtfully into each other's eyes. It was just as pink and frilly on the inside as it were the outside. But they found a table, and Cassia sits down, draping her coat and scarf along the back of her chair, just as Harry did.

     "Bonne journée, les petits!"

     A stout woman arrives to their table, scuttling between the other tables. She had a black bun tied low on her head and wore a pink apron, dusted in flour and splattered with spilt coffee. She smiles at them. Cassia figures this was Madam Puddifoot. She appeared to be French, too. It was a good thing one of Cassia's languages were French, then.

     "Salut, Madame!" says Cassia.

     "What can I get you two today?" asks Madam Puddifoot.

     "Hot chocolate and a slice of chocolate fudge cake, please," Cassia requests.

     Madam Puddifoot nods at her with a thin smile before looking over to Harry. "And you?"

     "Uh—a coffee, please." Harry tells her. Madam Puddifoot smiles at them both before shuffling away, her stout figure retreating amidst the lovesick couples. Cassia can see that Harry didn't seem the most restful in this room. He looks a bit jittery, out of place, hesitant.

     Cassia sighs, looking at him. "It's too much for you, isn't it?"

     Harry's head snaps back towards her rapidly. "Wha—No! It's—it's fine. I'm—"

     "Harry," says Cassia. She can't help but smile. He was sweet. "You don't like the place. I get it."

     "Wait," says Harry, confused, "You do?"

     "Yeah. It's nice, but... too pink for my liking. And stuffy."

      "Oh," replies Harry. Cassia laughs, before pausing, deciding to think on something for a moment.

     "Grab your coat," says Cassia. One of her hands moves to the back of her chair, dragging herself out, "and give me a moment. I need to do something."

     "Okay," says Harry, nodding, "What are you—?"

     Before Harry has the chance to finish his question, Cassia has gone up to the counter, folding her jacket and scarf in a bundle over her arms. Madam Puddifoot was busy at the till.

     "Er, Madame?" says Cassia.

     The tea shop owner looks up. "Oui?"

     "Pouvez-vous emballer notre commande à la place, s'il vous plais?"

     Madam Puddifoot seemed a bit surprised at her fluency in French. But she smiles. "Bien sûr, chèrie!"

Harry comes up to her just as Madam Puddifoot waddles away. He looks shocked, and surprised.

     "You speak French?"

     Cassia grins. "I'll tell you about it once we leave."

     "What did you ask her?"

     "To pack up our orders."

     "You didn't need to—"

     Madam Puddifoot returns before Harry can finish, with a brown paper bag and a cup holder bearing two disposable cups, setting it onto the counter. Which also happened to have a pink lacy cloth laced over it. Loads of pink.

"Ten sickles, s'il vous plais," says Madam Puddifoot.

Cassia moves to get the small purse of hers, tucking her hand deep into the pocket of her cashmere coat. She's ready to take her hand back out when a hand clasps over her wrist, and she pauses. She lifts her head and her eyes connect with Harry. He was smiling.

"Let me pay?" Harry requests. Cassia frowns, but knew she didn't have much of a say. So Harry takes out his wallet instead. And when Madam Puddifoot slides the drinks to Harry, she outstretches the folded paper bag to Cassia. She leans in to the Slytherin girl, a suggestive smile on her face.

     "I put another fork in the bag," says Madam Puddifoot, grinning. She was being loud enough so that solely Cassia could hear her. "In case you and Mister Potter decided to share."

     Cassia furrows her eyebrows, before smiling with a sense of oddness overcoming her. Okay, then.

     "Merci. Au revoir." Cassia bade the server.

     As she heads towards the door, she finds Harry had been waiting for her there, the cardboard drinks holder in his hand. He looks inquisitively towards her. In return, she smooths down a stray strand of auburn hair at the front, and shakes her head. This answer was enough for Harry.

     The bell high above the door tinkles once again as Cassia and Harry are met with a gust of shivering wind, penetrating the warmth her jacket, beanie and scarf provided her with. She feels warmth make contact with her fingers, and realises Harry had put her hot chocolate in her hand. She takes it, smiling at him as he discards the drinks holder in a nearby rubbish bin. They begin to walk down the street, the snow falling from the sky, the sky grey and light, the fumes of roaring fires in nearby estates billowing in the form of polluted smoke in spiral-like shapes up the chimneys.

Then she says, "I could've paid for them instead."

He says, "I know."

"Not to brag, but, you do realise I come from, like, a really rich family, right?"

"I know that too." Harry looks at Cassia, grinning. "I just wanted to have the satisfaction."

     Cassia raises an eyebrow. "Of what? Buying coffee?" Harry laughs. "Just... let me pay next time, okay? Maybe I'd like to have the satisfaction too."

     Harry grins. "Okay. And where will that be?"

     The exuberance of one of the shop displays in particular manages to pop out at Cassia even when it had been coated in snow over the dips and crevices of its blanched roof. Bright hats, colourful, strangely patterned ties and funky suits were displayed in the window alongside some more distinguished clothing too. The display was more festive, for Christmas, obviously, but it was just as mental. Gladrags Wizardwear for All Occasions. Perfect.

     Harry saw the mischievous, though excited, glint in Cassia's eyes as she looks to the absurdly decorated store, with the festive ostentation. "No way—"

     "Yes way," Cassia cuts him off, grabbing the hand at his side and dragging him into the place. "Serves you right for not letting me pay."

     Here's the thing about Harry and Gladrags. He knows they have products that are weird and wacky and products that are just... not. And he definitely knows Cassia would rather get him something in par with the second option. He was in for a ride.

     Harry grunts, while Cassia smirks. A man comes up to them, with a bald head, rimmed glasses and a protruding beer belly, but with a jovial, welcoming smile and a tapemeasure lined around his neck.

"Good afternoon!" The man greets them. He had a name tag, and it said "Enzo". Cassia realises he must be the owner, or something. And she thinks she heard somewhere that the owners were a sibling pair. He must have his partner somewhere then, too. "Mister Potter and his... girlfriend? How can I help the two of you?"

Cassia widens her eyes at being called Harry's "girlfriend". It took her a second to realise she was still holding his hand, and so, drops it, like she'd drop a scalding hot potato.

"Um, okay." says Cassia. She smiles, and tries to come up with something to say. On the spot. "I—he needs a... a hat. Harry here, needs a new hat." She turns to Harry, seeing he didn't exactly have the most desirable of facial expressions.

"No, I don't?" says Harry incredulously. "What's wrong with the one I'm wearing?"

"But of course, it's too plain!" cuts in Enzo, looking positively offended by the navy beanie he was wearing atop his shaggy hair. "You need something more exciting! Adventurous!"

"As if my life isn't adventurous enough," he mutters under his breath. Cassia still hears, and suppresses a snigger.

"I agree," says Cassia to Enzo, ignoring Harry's statement. "You are very, very correct. Harry needs a new hat. What would you have in mind?"

"Let's see..."

Enzo leads them into a room, stacked entirely with hats of all sorts. Loads of top hats, bucket hats, fedoras, berets. Plain, colourful, simplistic, ornamental. Everything. It takes them a small while, and their beverages were sure to have gone cold by now, but Harry was growing more reluctant and exasperated by the moment. One more hat is held out to him, after he's tried on about ten, and the corners of Cassia's mouth upturns craftily.

"Yes," says Cassia. She was sitting on the plush chair in the room, and Harry was in the middle with Enzo by him, using the boy as his model. It was a top hat. Of a brownish leather material, there were a scaly pattern imprinted with a remarkable and realistic pattern of fire along the base. There were also two large, beady eyes, protruding from the material, so that it quite literally looking third-dimensional. It was a dragon hat, and it was cool. Not... fashionable, no. But cool. And definitely perfect to buy for Harry. This moment was golden.

"I hate it," says Harry.

"I love it," says Cassia.

Harry sighs. "You're not serious?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Enzo looks at them both, awaiting a final answer, though it seems like the decision had already been made. Harry releases a deep exhale. "We'll take it."

The hatter claps his hands together. "Marvellous! I will hand it over to my sister to check it through the till."

So he works with his sister, then, Cassia reminisces to herself.

"Let's go," says Cassia to Harry, a menacing smile twitching along her lips. They travel back to the front of the shop, where at the till, an elderly woman stood, with her greying hair tied at the middle of her head and a pair of glasses that rested on the crook of her nose. Her name tag said "Mabel". This should be the other owner, Enzo's sister.

"Hello," says Mabel.

"Hi," replies Cassia.

"This is yours, correct?" Mabel presumes. "I apologise for any shenanigans my brother was on about. He's a bit—"

"Extra?"

Mabel laughs. "Yeah, you could say that. So, who's the hat for, then?"

Harry exchanges a glance with Cassia, before pursing his lips. "It's for me."

Mabel's eyes widen slightly at the sight of Harry. "Mister Potter," she says, "I wouldn't count this to be your type of style?"

Harry exchanges another glance with Cassia. He clenches his jaw. "I'm trying something new."

Mabel nods, the older woman seeming pleasantly surprised. Cassia was beside herself. "Very well, then. That'll be three Galleons."

This time Cassia was able to fish into her pocket for her purse and wasn't prevented in any way. Before long, the hat was paid for and they were back in the biting frost, the handle of the paper bag in Harry's hand.

"I don't have to wear it right now, right?" Harry says—no—pleads.

Cassia thinks for a minute, before smiling, and shaking her head. "No. I won't be that cruel to you today."

     Harry sighs in relief. "Where should we go now, then?"

     Again, Cassia thinks for a minute. Her face lights up, and she grins. "I know just the place."

     Harry cocks up an eyebrow. "Another place that's completely pink or absolutely mental?"

     An incredulous scoff escapes Cassia. "Okay, you had that coming, with the hat-buying and all. And in my defence, the only reason I even suggested Madam Puddifoot's was because of Daphne. I'd never been in there before." She then mutters quietly, "Maybe Daphne should go there with Pansy instead..."

     "What?"

     "What?" Cassia presses her lips thinly into an innocent smile. "Follow me."

     Harry furrows his eyebrows as he watches the girl accompanying him prance ahead, snow being displaced by her clacking boots, her rouge curls flowing after her like the endless trail of a dandelion bud. The charismatic smile, the splendrous laugh, the bewitching glint in her cerulean blue orbs. The auburn tresses contrasted against the green scarf and the ivory snow in such an odd way... but it was perfect. Harry didn't know where it would end, but he knew she truly was breathtaking.

But he finds they've come to a halt sooner than expected. In the snowy, winter-ridden town, they stand in the heap of snow, and Cassia is beside Harry again. And there's two more present. Two girls, two really pretty girls, one with an enigmatic simper and gleaming, shoulder-length auburn hair and crystalline blue eyes. The other, with a raven hair finished in a sleek bob-cut, and large, imposing orbs, looks bored and unimpressed. Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson, arm-in-arm, bundled in coats and scarves, expressions completely opposing from one another.

     "You two having fun?" Daphne asks jauntily.

     Cassia furrows her eyebrows. "Yeah...?"

Harry wasn't saying anything much. He mainly stood there looking out-of-place and wary of the deathly glare of Pansy's, but both Cassia and Harry figured out the reason she stayed quiet was probably due to Daphne.

     Daphne takes a note of the bag hanging by Harry's hand, and recognises the logo. "You two went to Gladrags?"

     "Yeah," says Cassia. She smirks complacently. "I got him a hat."

     "Oh?" Daphne frowns, perplexed at the significance of the purchase. She shrugs, and smiles again. "Anyways. We'll be off, then!"

     It's just Cassia and Harry once more again as the two Slytherin best friends whip away in a flurry, disappearing like the wind would blow the snow. Cassia's eyebrows are raised, and Harry is confused. They both exchange a glance with each other, before realising that instead, Harry should just take back to following Cassia again.

     "Um, ignoring whatever just happened with your sister and Parkinson," says Harry, "where exactly are you taking me?"

     Cassia turns around shortly, flashing him a smirk as she continues to trek through the snow. "You'll see."

     "You're being awfully cryptic  in this first date, aren't you?"

     "First date? Are you implying there may be more?"

     Harry stops in his tracks. Cassia senses this, and moves towards him. She sees him practically frozen, and lets her hand wander down to his. As soon as his hand is touched by hers, he seems to jolt back to his senses. She looks at him curiously. He opens his mouth, the closes it.

     And then he says, "Only if you don't buy me any more weird hats."

     It takes Cassia a moment to process his words. But then she scoffs, and has to stifle a laugh in her palm. Harry smiles.

     "Are we going to go, then?" He asks.

     "Actually," says Cassia, "We're here."

     The place Cassia named as "here" was a patch of landscape. It was on a small hill, high enough so that the outlook of village houses and the shops of Hogsmeade were smaller figures down below, with copious trees within the scenery. He could see the post office, he could see the smoke rising out of chimneys clearly, he could see the bright lights shining out of nearby villager's home windows. He could even see the land beyond, a stretch of all the mysteries of the country of Scotland that he'd never experienced beyond Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. It was covered in a thick mantle of snow, shaking off of the branches, coating the grass, lining the hills, but to anyone, the view from up here was just beautiful.

"This is really nice," says Harry, his voice a passing breeze.

"Yeah," says Cassia, grinning, "I know. I came up here with my friends sometimes. I love it. You see up there?" The sky was misty with falling snow, but in the far, far distance, one could make out the smallest of protrudings of what seemed to be an array of standing stones, miniaturised. "Those are the stones of Calanais. They're one of the Scottish landmarks. People always visit them, some of the Muggles would even go as far as calling them "magical". I'd really like to visit them one day."

"Really?" Harry replies. "How do you know all of this?"

"Well," begins Cassia, "Theo got me this book, a muggle book, for my birthday this year, called Outlander. It was about this woman who time travelled through some standing stones. They were called Craigh na Dun. I really enjoyed the book, and I was trying to find out if there were a real life equivalent and since Hogwarts is in Scotland too, I found out that the closest thing to "magical standing stones" were the stones of Calanais, or, the Calanish stones."

"Nice," Harry tells her, "Do you think they'd let you time travel?"

Cassia grins. "People have tried, believe me. But considering we have magic... maybe. I wouldn't risk it, though."

Harry frowns. "Why?"

"Well, it's really risky. Like, how are you so sure the stones would take you back? Even if you did have a Time Turner too, there was no guarantee you'd get home safe. And also... there's a thing called the Doppler Effect."

"Doppler Effect?"

"Yeah," replies Cassia. "I've not heard much of it, apart from those conversations with Theo when we talk about time-travelling theories—"

"As you do," says Harry. Cassia laughs.

"The Doppler effect is like a sort of ripple in sound, light, or anything, really. In this case it's time. Time has already been set in place, but if something were to go back and change the events that had already happened, it would alter every other event one by one, thus, the ripple effect."

"Huh..."

"There's also the other result." She continues. "If time has been replaced once, it's almost like it's been broken the first way round with it being rippled. Take a glass mug, for example. If you break it once, and try to put the pieces back together, sure, it'll look like a cup, but it won't be fixed. The cracks will still be there."

"What if you use a Reparo charm on the mug?"

Cassia grins. "You know what I mean. Once you go back and change placed events once, you'll never be able to get the timeline as it was before. That's why I wouldn't want to time travel. Maybe it would cause a ripple where it meant I'd never have met Theo, or me and Daphne were never twins, or I'd never have met... you."

Harry smiles at her.

"Sure, the world isn't perfect, by any means." Cassia tells him. "But... I'm okay with it. Life was never meant to be easy, and if a hardship flies our way, then we fight our way through it."

It was silent, and Cassia looks over and sees Harry looking at her. It's difficult to decipher the look in his eyes. Again, it's this feeling of being caught so off-guard — he does that somehow. He manages to fluster her, he manages to make the heat rise up in her cheeks. It's odd, but she doesn't think it's terrible. At all.

     "Do you want to sit?"

     Cassia brings the question up, as an obvious distraction to snap Harry out of his trancelike state. He furrows his eyebrows, but looks around, and he seems confused.

     "But it's snowing everywhere?" Harry points out.

     A laugh spills out of Cassia's mouth. "We have magic, Harry. A warming charm is all we need. I've been up here quite a few times, rain, sun or snow. And technically, since we're here on behalf of Hogwarts, we won't get into trouble for using magic. I've never gotten into trouble, anyways."

      But Harry looks hesitant.

     Cassia sighs. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll do the charm. I'll also heat up our drinks while I'm at it."

     They both watch as Cassia herself takes the wand out from within her coat, and points it towards the tree at the top of the small hill where they stood, and mutters the charm so that the tree and the patch of grass beneath it began to become visible once more, the snow melting with the heat of the charm. Before long, the snow that was once there had dissolved completely leaving a dry spot of fresh verdant grass. Cassia grins, as she sits down with her back to the bark and crosses her legs in a basket. She pats the spot down beside her.

     Harry was impressed. He nods, descending to the ground and outstretching his legs as he presses his back to the bark behind him.

     "Pass me your coffee," says Cassia. Funnily enough, neither of them had had much of their warm beverages save for the cold weather — they were much too engrossed in talking to each other.

     "Thanks," Harry says as Cassia hands his coffee back, newly warmed. As he notices her warming up her own hot chocolate, he realises something else. "You haven't had your cake yet."

Cassia's eyes furrow with confusion before widening, realisation overcoming her. "Oh, yeah! You're right." Her attention goes to the brown paper bag tucked underneath her arm clothed in her jacket, and she takes the cake out, wrapped in a napkin, placing it down onto the flattened bag. Her teeth graze over her bottom lip as she remembers what Madam Puddifoot told her. That she put an extra fork in there just in case. Cassia is hesitant, but she thinks, what's the harm? And it's like they say, sharing is caring...

"Do you want to share?" Cassia asks Harry. "It's a really big slice, and I think Madam Puddifoot put an extra fork in too." She takes both forks out, and outstretches one to Harry. His eyes were wide.

"Um, sure." Harry tells her, and she puts the cake in between where the two of them have sat. Albeit hesitantly, they both begin to take bits off of the cake, eating it simultaneously. Harry gulps. "It's good."

"Mhm-hm," Cassia indirectly agrees, her mouth stuffed with cake. Harry laughs, narrowly escaping choking as he find amusement in her enjoyment of the cake. Her eyes widen, and she gulps down the cake, and her cheeks redden in embarrassment. Harry laughs more. "Swear on Salazar, you can't take me anywhere."

Harry smiles. "It's okay. It's fine. Er—you have a bit of cake, though—"

Taking Cassia by complete surprise, Harry reaches a hand towards her cheek and lets his knuckle brush past. She doesn't know how, but her breath has stopped short at his gentle touch and all she can do is look at Harry, look at the tenderness in his emerald eyes, look at his jet black hair, an array of messiness. This boy. Harry's knuckle lingers on her cheek for an extensive moment. Even as he slowly retracts his arm, he's still looking at her, and she's still looking at him.

"So you speak French?"

The question whips Cassia's senses like a horse to the cane. She shakes her head, and looks at Harry, baffled. Harry appears to wipe his fingers against his jacket, but there's a red tinge to his cheeks. "What?"

"Back at Madam Puddifoot's," Harry explains, "You spoke French."

     Cassia's eyebrows raise as she remembers what he was talking about. "So I did," she says. She looks up at him. "I can speak French, yeah. And Spanish, and Bulgarian, and German and Dutch."

     "Wow," Harry says, marvelling in the surprise that were Cassia's multilingual talents. "That's, uh, cool. I didn't know you knew so many. I only know English, and a small amount of Spanish from when Dudley was learning it back in primary school. He was terrible at it, for the record."

Cassia laughs, tilting the hot chocolate up to her lips. She recalls the hunky, slightly big-boned blonde kid at the train station when they went home last year. "Thanks. I've always loved learning languages. It's... fun. And, uh, Dudley? He's your cousin, right? The blonde one?"

Harry nods, though he seems dreary. He takes a sip of coffee. "Unfortunately."

Cassia grins. "He can't be that bad. You saved him from a dementor."

Harry furrows his eyebrows, before shrugging his shoulders. "So I did. Fair point."

"Is he from your Dad's side of the family?" asks Cassia. "Or your Mum's?"

     "My Mum's," Harry replies. "My aunt is my Mum's sister. They didn't get on much, though. That's why I think they don't like me. I don't know much about my Dad, but. Apart from what Sirius and Remus told me. Everyone says I look like him."

     Cassia smiles. She leans her head against the rough bark her back was flush against. "I heard something about your Dad also being a quidditch player back in his day?"

A fond smile stretches itself across Harry's face. "Yeah, he was. He played as a Chaser and was made the Captain too."

"Would you ever want to be Captain, like your dad?"

Harry shrugs. "Maybe. It wouldn't be terrible. Might be cool, actually." He discards his empty coffee cup to the side, where the crumbly remains of the chocolate cake were, and takes in a long, reminiscent sigh, stretching his arms up behind his head, and looks to Cassia's figure, her hands holding the hot chocolate cup to her lips. "What about your family? What were they like in Hogwarts?"

Cassia clears her throat. "Um, well, my Dad really liked Astronomy. He still does, and he loves taking us all to go stargazing sometimes at night. He wasn't much of a Quidditch player, I don't think. But he was part of the Astronomy Club. Maybe that's where I got my fondness for going up to the Tower from... My Mum, well, she loved nature, I guess. She spent most of her time outside. She loved Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures, but she mostly loved to read and learn." Cassia smiles, before adding, "She was Ravenclaw for a reason."

"I saw your parents at the train station that day," Harry tells her. "They seemed nice."

"They're the best." Cassia smiles. "Okay, um, this might be weird, but I have a question."

Harry nods slowly. "Ask away."

"What's your happy place?"

A happy place. It can be so much as an inhabited place in your mind, to a whole peaceful, desert island. It's a place where you can sit down, take a deep breath, and think, everything is fine. If you think of happy, and immediately a place springs to mind, that's your happy place. It's the place where you feel at ease to breathe, at ease to smile, at ease to live. A sanctuary. All is well in your happy place. Be it a thought, a person, or a place.

Harry takes a moment to think. It was an odd question. But not a bad one. Not a bad one at all.

"Um, I don't know," says Harry. "What's yours?"

Cassia lifts a piece of hair out of her eyes, and strokes it downwards. She smiles at Harry. "So, um, going back to my parents, my Mum is from Bulgaria. She grew up speaking both Bulgarian and English, which I guess is how I got good at speaking languages."

"She didn't go to Durmstrang?" Harry asks, frowning.

Cassia shakes her head, grimacing slightly. "My grandparents thought it was too dark for her. Hogwarts seemed about right. So, my Mum being from Bulgaria meant that I went over there sometimes for holidays, and to visit my grandparents. They owned a florist over there, too. It had the nicest flowers and plants and I always loved having my gran and grandad teach me how to make bouquets. Astoria was always the best at it, though."

Harry was smiling. "You know, it fits."

Cassia furrows her eyebrows. "What does?"

"Your family, and owning a flower shop." He says. "Since you're the Greengrass family. Even if it was your Mum's side. And your names, too. The flowers. It... it fits."

A soft laugh escapes Cassia. "You're right. I've never thought about that... it does fit. There must have been a reason why we were all named after flowers." Marlowe, Daphne, Cassia, Astoria... names of nature, for a family whose world revolves around the earth and keeping the check of nature in balance. It fit. Even Phoenix. Nature just... fit for the Greengrass family.

Harry grins softly. "What is it, then? Your happy place?"

A gust of wind passes by them, and Cassia inhales refreshingly. "Bulgaria, I think." She says. "The country... but more specifically, the place where the flower shop was, and going to the beach, and visiting the landmarks. It was always so nice. Being able to sit on a stool and see my grandparents serve customers, speaking fluent Bulgarian with everyone passing by, the weather... it kind of felt like a second side to my life. Like to sides to the same sword." She looks up, and Harry's looking down at her, and he's smiling. Even if the air was frigid, she still feels the blistering heat in her cheeks. She clears her throat. "What's yours, then? Your happy place?"

Harry purses his lips, thinking. "My happy place... I'm not sure. Maybe it's Hogwarts. Even if my life is in danger like, every second, I guess it's the first place I ever felt... myself. My friends, too. But I love Hogwarts. So... I think that's it."

Cassia smiles. It's somewhat quiet between them again. Even though their voices aren't sounding, they can hear the low, harmonious voices of carollers wafting amidst the dreamy sky. Another result of winter that everyone notices is that the sun set much earlier. So, though it was only five in the afternoon (wow, time went by that quick?) the sun was setting and with it brought the reminiscent skyline, an amalgamation of a pinkish glow, orangey and purplish. But it was still great to look at, and be lost within. No one ever pays much heed to the fact, but the sky was spectacular. Truly.

     A sound is heard, and Harry clears his throat. One of the nearby village homes begun to play music on the vinyl player. It's a slow, sweet, jazzy tune. It appeased the ears of most passerby's. She didn't know what song it was, but Cassia hums accordingly to it, until Harry brings her out of her small daze. She looks at him expectantly through the gentle music.

"Everything okay?" She asks.

Harry stammers a little, before breathing in deeply, and saying, "Do you remember last Christmas, when me and you were in the Astronomy Tower... do you remember what you said?"

"It was a year ago, Harry!" Cassia laughs. "I doubt I'd remember exactly what I said."

Harry smiles, before saying, "You said you could teach me to dance."

Oh.

As Cassia recalls the proposition, her eyes widen. She did say she could teach Harry to dance, and she did say that last year, on Christmas Eve. Only — she chickened out of it, thinking it was a foolish idea. Why, exactly? She had no idea. Only that she knew exactly where Harry was going with this.

"I did—?"

Harry grins. "Don't play with me. I know exactly what you said. You said, "I could teach you" and—"

"Okay, maybe I did." Cassia admits with a sheepish smile. "What about it?"

"Teach me to dance," says Harry.

Cassia's looks at him in alarm — though she knew he was coming to this. "Here? Now?"

"Yeah," says Harry.

"You hate dancing, though...?"

"Maybe not if you teach me..."

Cassia narrows her eyes. Harry grins. Harry won.

"Okay," She concedes, sighing. "You're lucky there's music, or dancing without any would become awkward very quick."

She gets up, brushing off the light material of her dress for any nonexistent crumbs. She shrugs off her jacket, placing it down onto the thawed grass — because it would be much more comfortable — and the snowflakes begin to fall in her hair again as she walks out of the shade of the tree, that had otherwise prevented her from getting snowed on. But she didn't think she minded right now. The snow was light, and it was cool. Maybe it was good, considering the fact she suddenly felt really warm on the inside as she held a hand out, waiting for Harry to join her. Harry takes this as his cue, getting to his feet and rubbing his hands against his trousers. He sends a charismatic beam Cassia's way, and comes to stand in front of the girl. His height towered over hers.

"Where to start, then?" He asks.

(Who would've ever thought that Harry Potter would be enthused to learn how to dance?)

"Place your hand on my waist," whispers Cassia, and lets the jazzy music spill through their ears. She's completely unaware that Harry has frozen, and sends him a sly smirk. "Don't tell me that you're afraid of putting your hand on my waist when you literally want me to show you how to dance?"

     But Harry shakes his head fervently, and does the deed. And it's Cassia, who gasps lowly as she feels his arm twine around her waist and he slips his free hand into hers, holding them close. She'd never thought in her life she could be this flustered. But it still felt okay. Kind of nice, actually. She releases her bottom lip from her teeth's clutches and looks up to him, and she puts her hand onto his shoulder.

     "Follow my lead," she whispers.

     And so, the low, rhythmic jazzy music leads them into a tempo, both of them swaying from side to side, Cassia's feet leading Harry through the dance steps. He catches on after a small while, even if he did nearly step on her toes once or twice. With dance, it's more movement, rather than spoken instruction. Dancers get more effective teachings when they're being shown, and led through the routine. And there, Cassia Greengrass and Harry Potter stood, with the lowly emitted local music in the background, the sunset at bay, his arm around her waist, hers on his shoulders, their hands twined together. It's a cadenced, peaceful moment, and both think that, to speak, would ruin it. So they let their heads drop down. Cassia's forehead is touching his chest, and Harry leans his head against the side of hers.

     There comes a moment when she steps outwards, and Harry spins her under his arm, but she's spun and propelled fast and twirls into his chest, and Cassia gasps again. Maybe because she just crashed into him at full speed, and because her hands are pressed flat against his chest and that she feels this emotion as she looks up into his eyes, and as he looks down at her with an unfathomable glance... but because she's reminded of something. She remembers the night she and Harry had a shared detention. She remembers after, when they both went to the Astronomy Tower... and she remembers what it was like, to be with Harry, and look up in his eyes... If someone could see them now, they wouldn't think much had changed with the situation. Only, loads had. Those few months ago, when they were together, it was different. They were both ridden with vulnerability. They allowed themselves to show their lowest possible levels to each other, allowed each other to be exposed. And they might still be showing some gradation of vulnerability with each other still. But it was different. Now, even if they're not smiling, or laughing, or if they're straight-faced — they were happy together. Enveloped in each other, they knew what it meant to truly be happy.

The temperamental snow had halted for the time being. The sun was setting further and further over the village of Hogsmeade, and Cassia takes the chance to glance over from Harry's shoulder and reminisce in the hue of grey, of orange, of yellow. It was incredible how the three irreconcilable tones managed to blend together. She also takes this as the chance to break away first.

"We should probably head back, now." She says. Harry nods, and picks up her jacket, resting underneath the tree shade, helping her to put it on. They pick up the drinks cups and bag to discard into a nearby rubbish bin, and Harry also picks up his bag from Gladrags. Cassia can't help but send a grin in his direction; he saw, and shook his head. But there was no doubt he was smiling.

     So they both head back to the castle together, idle chatter between them. It's getting darker even if it was only half five in the afternoon, the snow was heavily layered, and at some point, Harry offered his arm for Cassia to hold onto. For balance, you know. And she didn't know she was smiling the whole way through. They enjoyed themselves on this day. Sure, it gave them a break from their studies — but it also gave them the chance to properly know each other. To learn about themselves in the open, in front of everyone who they once hid from. Some that still looked at them both together with confusion, or disapproval. And, well, next week would be Christmas. So if they company didn't help them enjoy their time, the festive cheer certainly did.

     "What's your plans for Christmas?" Harry asks Cassia.

     They've reached the Entrance Hall, and the snow began to fall again. Cassia's hair is probably damp from the snow when she and Harry were dancing, but that was okay. The worst things that would happen are that the curls that Maryam had put in would fall loose, and Cassia hoped Maryam wouldn't mind. Instead, Cassia smiles at Harry.

     "Me and my family are having a big dinner," says Cassia, "and my grandparents from Bulgaria are coming over. Theo and his parents are coming over, too. What about you?"

     "I'm staying with the Weasley's and Sirius. Ron said Charlie Weasley's girlfriend might be coming too, but I'm not sure."

     Cassia perks an eyebrow up. "Charlie Weasley has a girlfriend?"

(Not to say the fact that the kind dragon tamer had a girlfriend astounded Cassia — from what she remembers, Charlie was a handsome, charming, dashing lad, who treated her well when she met him in the dragon enclosure last year. So, it would fit that he had a girlfriend. Cassia was just... taken aback, is all.)

     "Yeah," Harry chuckles, "Avery. I met her in the holidays. She's quite nice."

     "That's good," says Cassia. She smiles. "Thanks for today. I enjoyed myself."

     "Yeah," says Harry. He grins. "Today was fun. Thanks for the hat and the dancing lessons."

     "Anytime. I guess I'll see you later, then."

     She's thinking about away, when she can spot a hanging green blur in the top corner of her eye. Her eyes widen as she looks up, and sees its mistletoe. Harry also noticed when he watched her head travel upwards. He froze.

     "Mistletoe," breathes Cassia.

     Harry gulps. She makes short, but sweet work of it. Her fingers trailing lightly atop his shoulders, she reaches on her tiptoes and presses a fleeting kiss to his cheek. Harry was still frozen as Cassia fell onto her heels. He can feel the lingering press of her soft lips, her flushed face, her wind-strewn, damp hair. She may have seemed composed, but heart was drumming against her ribcage. She puts some distance between them, and presses her lips into a thin smile.

     "Um, bye, Harry," She says. Harry was glued to the spot as she began to dematerialise further and further away, her beige jacket ruffling with movement, her black boots clacking against the stone floor of Hogwarts, her beanie-worn hair, waving in hypnotic cadences...

     Cassia was immediately able to spot Theo when she entered the Slytherin common room, reading a book and sitting alone on the surprisingly empty sofa. The common room was still busy — students were bustling all around, some were adding decorations onto the Christmas Tree next to the green tinted windows or playing chess and other pastimes together.

     There's this dreamy, reminiscent smile on her face as she plops herself down onto the sofa beside the Nott boy, a deep sigh escaping her. Theo is partially caught off-guard, but quickly regains his composure and looks to his best friend, returned from her date, and raises an eyebrow.

     "Cassia Greengrass, you are undeniably whipped with this boy."

     And the thing is, she didn't think Theo was wrong.

     (Little did she know, "this boy", along with the rest of the Weasley clan residing in Hogwarts, would end up being sent through the Floo Network at the subject of one very injured Arthur Weasley, without a single mention of a Merry Christmas... if you could still call it that.)

***

HI GUYS!!!

pls im so sorry ive not updated this in over two weeks... school's a PAIN

but this was a long chapter so i hope you liked it😭😭😭 i wanted to do a BIT of insight into what theo's feeling with the newsbut i didn't want too much crisis because harry and cassia were going on a date and i wanted it to be mostly happy.... It's hard trying not to make every chapter a bleeding rollercoaster 😭😭😭

and we also got a bit of insight into daphne's POV too!!! ugh i love her she really do scream best girl energy... i aspire to be like her and cassia ❤️

and next chapter is Christmas and we will get avery❤️ also for those of you that read distant game too peep enzo and Mabel!!! pls making them is my best decision ever😭😼

also for those of you that could tell... yes i got the cup-time-travelling thing from the flash😭😭😭 i didn't explain it well enough but incase you're confused then this may explain better—

jay garrick may you rest in peace ily❤️

so yeah that's what i was on about😭😭

also harry and cassia have my heart❤️

AND SO DO ALL OF YOU!! ily all hope you liked this💕