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THE 24TH OF FEBRUARY, 1980, saw Marlowe Greengrass pooled in sweat and blood, on her back and elbows in pain, rattling, throbbing breaths and screams quaking her entire body and the hospital. The Maternity ward in St. Mungo's was the least welcoming place she wanted to be in, and she wasn't overly fond of the patronisingly, overly nice midwives having to tend to her — she'd been carrying twins for the last nine months, one of which absolutely loved to constantly thrash what was left of her womb while the other stayed considerably dormant most of the time though packed a mean punch when it felt like it. Her first ever pregnancy was difficult, painful, and all Marlowe wanted was for these babies to get out and for her to stop craving the scent of talcum powder all the time. She was done. She was exhausted. And she just wanted to sleep without there being a yoga ball restricting her every time she rolled onto her side, and for Baby Number One to stop ramming it's foot into her lower back every time Baby Number Two tried stretching its minuscule arms, because god knows the cramped up space there'd been for two babies in that one womb.

(But she also just couldn't hold back anymore — she needed to see her babies.)

First had come Daphne Esmeralda Greengrass. Marlowe and Phoenix Greengrass had no idea of their child's genders: it was in their interest that it would remain a surprise till the end. But Marlowe was hardly able to appreciate the beauty of her baby girl because she was exhausted, in pain, and not to mention, there was another baby to push out too. Daphne turned out to be Baby Number Two.

Which meant that seven minutes later, after rushed healing spells and water and Marlowe spewing many more curse words at her poor husband—whose hand was sure to require surgery after this day—Cassia Mileva Greengrass, Baby Number One, was born. It was only after Marlowe had regained what possible strength she could gather in the coming minutes, that her husband, tears brimming his eyes, had came over with both baby girls resting in the crook of each elbow, looking as proud as a new young father could. He'd returned to Marlowe's side with his daughters after having shown them to the Auror guarding their wing —because it was a time of danger and Dark Wizards were plentiful—Kingsley Shacklebolt.

(Not only because he was an excellent Auror. Because Kingsley Shacklebolt was Marlowe's closest and oldest friend and it would get ugly if a pregnant woman with the temper of Marlowe and the pressure of needing to give birth to two infants didn't have her wishes sufficed. If there was going to be an auror guarding her ward, Marlowe would except no one else but Kingsley.)

And like so many, Marlowe's breath was taken when Phoenix let her take Cassia and Daphne for the first time, and it all felt right. It didn't matter that they were at the time of a rising war, or that Marlowe's hospital gown was itching in unbearable places or that she stunk of body odour and was the epitome of a living breathing sweat molecule. It didn't matter that the pregnancy she endured was difficult as hell and she had one baby at constant unrest (Cassia) while her other baby (Daphne) was slightly bigger and that Marlowe was so sure that she'd eaten into the other baby's food a couple of times. But that didn't matter.

     It didn't matter, because they were here, and her insides may be in pain, and Phoenix's left hand may never be the same again, but that was all okay. Because her daughters were here and were safe, and Phoenix was there to caress Marlowe's matted, soaking wet hair and there to kiss her forehead in all ways loving and admiring and she had her family and it was all perfect.

(But a little word of advice from Marlowe Greengrass and about any other woman who gave birth to twins: don't have twins. Just don't.)

     Sixteen years later, and Baby Number Three came in the form of Astoria Greengrass one year subsequent to the twins, and Baby Number Two still likes to boast her seven minutes age difference to Baby Number One and Baby Number One could still pack in a mean kick (at least not to Marlowe's innards)—as Maryam Ahmed so unfortunately found out one morning trying to wake Cassia up in her most off-guard state. And sixteen years later, Baby Number One has a boyfriend wishing to make the best out of her birthday and as a result has to deal with her very impatient naggings.

     "You're terrible at stalling."

     "Or you're just terribly impatient."

     "I'm not Hufflepuff for a reason."

     "Ah, once again proving that letter to be true."

     "Harry!"

     Dressed in a white floral frock that swished above her knees, Cassia sure did play the part of a birthday girl. She wasn't sure if it was because of the massive "BIRTHDAY GIRL" badge that Eva spelled on her to ensure that she wouldn't be able to take it off for the duration of that day or if it was because of how absolutely loud Eva, Maryam, Millicent, Pansy and Tracey had sung happy birthday to Cassia and Daphne with their birthday pancakes that morning in the Great Hall.

Currently, she was walking along the courtyard with none other than her own boyfriend, who had his hand twined with her own. It was the first time they'd gotten to be together that entire day, and although Cassia told him he didn't have to get her anything, he said she'd give her his present later on in the night. Thankfully the skies were blue and cloudy yet tranquil, yet Cassia wasn't overly impressed with Harry's failing attempts at keeping her from entering the Slytherin territory. He'd already stopped her from going back down twice: once, because he claimed to have heard rumours of two people squaring up to each other down there, and the second time he claimed the negative energy emanating from
Snape's office gave his Occlumency-learning brain a recurring headache. Cassia could only imagine what that third excuse could turn out to be.

     "Can't you just tell me why you're distracting me?" Cassia continues to nag, pleadingly tugging on Harry's elbow at his side.

     "I'm not distracting you," Harry says.

     Cassia rolls her eyes. "We already went over this."

"Went over what?"

She cocks her head to the side, meeting his failingly innocent appearance. "At least tell me who put you up to this? Maryam or Eva?"

Harry lowers his head with a sheepish grin. "Abercrombie. She can be surprisingly intimidating." He looks up, grimacing. "But Ahmed was behind her and she looked even more scary. And I did see her grab the beaters' bat and hit Bletchley in the head that last Slytherin game so... yeah. I don't want to get on her bad side. Astoria was also included."

Cassia nods, pressing her lips together in an agreeing gesture. "Good idea. Who's distracting Daphne, then?"

     "Not sure," Harry says, "Parkinson, I think?"

     "You think?"

     Harry's mouth gapes open slightly, unsure of what to say to Cassia's questioning stare. "I mean, uh, it'd make sense, seeing as, you know, they, uh, they kinda l—"

     "I know," Cassia says, grinning, "I know. I'm sure everyone does by now."

Harry clears his throat, laughing nervously. "Uh—what gifts did you get, then?"

     "Let me think," Cassia says, "A tonne of jewellery, clothes and books from my parents, a journal from Maryam, more makeup from Eva—beginning to think she's trying to tell me something—Pansy, Millicent and Tracey gave me a gift package from them that had a bunch of things inside, Blaise got me a violet pillow—obviously had his mum and Astoria help him, Daphne and Astoria got me a new lamp—"

     "Wait—" Harry furrows his eyebrows, "Daphne got you a gift?"

     "Well, yeah!" Cassia returns. "It's Daphne's birthday too. I got her something with Astoria. We keep Astoria in the middle because she can make sure we didn't get each other the same gift."

     "That's possible?"

     Cassia gives him a deadpan look. "You've no idea. Astoria makes sure we don't. But there was that one time she decided to be sneaky and we ended up buying each other the same jewellery stand."

He raises an eyebrow. "She did that?"

"She sure did," Cassia nods, "Tori is not the innocent bunny everyone thinks she is. One time, when me and Daph were five and Tori was four, we were helping the house elves in decorating Easter cookies for one of Mum's afternoon teas and Mum specifically had thirty-seven —I still remember it all so well— and three of them went missing. You can probably guess how. Anyways, while those poor house elves were being interrogated in the nicest way possible—bearing in mind they did see Tori snag those three cookies—Tori stayed quiet and didn't fess up. Only when Mum looked to the three of us as a last resort did Astoria fess up. By blaming it on Daphne. And while Mum gave Daph a right earful, Tori stood there looking as complacent as she possibly could. Daphne is still bitter to this day. As am I. She ate one of the ones I decorated."

"Wow," he expresses, tilting his head towards her in a way that confirmed his surprise regarding the antics previously committed by young Astoria Greengrass. He hums to himself. "You know what you and Daphne should do?"

Cassia gives him a look.

"Get matching tattoos," he tells her. A grin crawls up Cassia's face.

     "Already planned."

     "Oh?"

     "Uh-huh," says Cassia. "When we're of age, so, next year? Me and Daph are gonna get matching tattoos at that dodgy place in Knockturn Alley. We've had this planned since we were twelve."

     Harry chuckles. "What tattoos?"

     "Not entirely sure. We have a few in mind. There's the typical "seven minutes apart" joke we always emphasise so we might do something with that, or we might get our birth dates done, or maybe two halves of a word."

     "I like that," Harry grins. Cassia spots him looking around at the grounds, almost yearning to be somewhere else, and tugs on his hand.

     "What time did Maryam and Eva say I had to be there by?" She asks Harry with a small sigh.

     "Half-four," he replies with that same sheepish, absolutely adorable grin he had from earlier, the one that Cassia could spend hours standing in front of, the one she'd willingly gather paints and paintbrushes to depict despite her lacking artistic skill.

     There was the tiniest of hints of a witted smile on Cassia's face as she revolves her wrist around to check her watch, another gift to Cassia specifically from her father. It seemed that, even despite Cassia and her sister's not acting out towards their revelation of their father, that Phoenix Greengrass remained, for the most part... fine. It all seemed kind of normal, even if it most definitely wasn't. It just confused Cassia a hundred times more.

     "It's twenty-past four," Cassia looks up from her watch, readjusting the rings on her hand. One of them was her Greengrass ring, the most differing to the other tiny, diamond-encrusted petite things, whereas her family ring was easily the largest one there with the gigantic stone in the centre with her family's crest. There was nothing even remotely appealing or contrasting about it, but Cassia still felt akin to wearing it on a quotidian basis.

     "We should probably go then," says Harry.

     "Sure," says Cassia. "Or we face the wrath of an Abercrombie and Ahmed combined."

     She makes some taunting noises all the while waggling her fingers in his face, but does anything retaliate when he laughs and brings her flailing arms close enough that he can loop an arm around her shoulders. Cassia lets her head rest against him as they make their way across the threshold of the Entrance Hall, already sensing that her birthday would be a pretty good day.

The Slytherin dungeons were perishingly cold when Cassia and Harry arrived, but, by this point, Cassia had grown used to it. Harry, knowing he couldn't proceed any further than that big door—not that he wanted to enter the Slytherin common room—was about to part with Cassia, until another presence approached them.

"Heya, Cass," Daphne had been descending the stairs into the dungeons and nears the two, and it's only after she gently squeezes her twin's arm in passing that she recognises Harry in the terrible lighting of the place. She nods at him with a smile. "Hey, Harry."

Cassia grins at Daphne and Harry even more so at his slightly stupefied expression. Maybe it was because Daphne stopped giving him the surname treatment, but maybe it was because Pansy Parkinson was beside Daphne and was giving him a very cold stare.

Harry ignores Pansy and gives Daphne a slightly smile. "Uh, happy birthday, Daphne."

"Thanks," Daphne smiles. She was wearing the same white dress as Cassia—as twins do on their birthday—and had the exact same badge spelled tightly onto her.

     The big black door swings open, and Astoria emerges from it with a wide grin.

     "Great, you're here! Just on time." The young girl says. She gives Harry an acknowledging smile. "Thanks for doing this, Harry. Oh, and don't worry, I'll make good on my promise."

     Cassia didn't miss the glint of mischief in Astoria's eyes. "What promise, Tor?"

     Harry shares a grin with Astoria. "Something involving you, your sisters, and a whole lot of baby Greengrass photos and stories."

     Cassia's mouth drops open in shock. "No way." But Astoria's smirk said anything but. "Seriously?"

     "Seriously," Astoria confirms, highly complacent. She met with the challenging stare of her older sister, and shrugs. "I have my reasons."

     Daphne begins to laugh along with Harry until Cassia shoots a glance her way. "Those pictures involve you too, you know," Cassia tells her.

     Daphne's face blanches. Her gaze moves almost robotically towards the youngest Greengrass. "What the hell, Tori?"

     Astoria presses her lips into a thin smile, her body going rigid. "Pansy, you know where to bring them."

     Astoria was gone back through the big doors before anything else could be said.

     Daphne drops the murderous look and shifts it between Cassia and Harry, and them being right outside the entrance, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Are you coming in, or—?"

     Harry's eyes widen in alarm. "No! Uh, no, I'm just here to see off Cassia, um, I'm not coming in...–"

"Thank Merlin," Cassia hears Pansy say beneath her breath.

"Be nice, Pans," Daphne retorts, elbowing the girl with pitch black hair.

"That is me being nice! Could've chopped his head off by now, couldn't I?"

    "Yes, you could have. I'm so proud."

     Cassia turns to Harry with a grin. He looked slightly—very—out of place. "I'll see you tonight, yeah?"

     "Just one moment," Harry says with a tiny click of the tongue. He grins and his hands find its way to her hair, adjusting the gifted pastel flower crown on the top of her head—as if he knew anything about hair styling. Cassia laughs faintly before managing to get away, holding onto the crown herself.

"Stop that," she says, but her smile said a million other things.

A charming grin falls across his face. He steps forward, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, his hands cupping around her neck. "I'll see you tonight."

     As she watches Harry retreat with a lingering smile, the last thing Cassia sensed was a presence at her side. She jumps at the sound of Daphne's suggestive voice.

     "What's tonight, Cass?"

     Cassia narrows her eyes at her twin but feels her cheeks heat up nonetheless. "None of what your eyebrows are insinuating, that's what."

     Daphne hums to herself, turning to face Pansy. "Aren't they cute?"

     "Sure, whatever," Pansy mutters.

     "Um, so, is there a reason we had to be down here right now?" says Cassia after a while of waiting. "Or did I just have to endure one of the most tragically awkward moments ever for nothing?"

     Pansy appears to have remembered something.

     "Yes, actually! Good reminding." Pansy digs into her pocket, bringing out to pieces of king fabric. "Blindfolds."

     "What?" says Daphne and Cassia.

     "Blindfolds," says Pansy, both arms outstretched with each blindfold.

     "Why?" asks Cassia.

     "Like I'm gonna tell you that."

     "Yeah, because we're so gonna wear blindfolds in the darkest part of the castle without any explanation whatsoever."

     Pansy presses her lips together and sighs. "Fine. You don't have to wear it in the tunnel. But put them on once we get into the common room."

     Cassia and Daphne still didn't trust this idea or whatever everyone seemed to have planned. But they each take a blindfold anyways and before they walk into the dark tunnel that preceded the Slytherin common room, Cassia stops Pansy and Daphne. Cassia smiles at Pansy.

     "Aren't you gonna fix Daphne's headband?" Cassia insinuates, hoping Pansy could get the hint. Instead, Pansy stared at her with question marks in her eyes.

     "What?" Pansy and Daphne exclaim in confusion.

     Daphne seemed to think there was no problem with her flower crown, as she'd taken it from her head and obscured her eyes to look at it as if it were a microorganism. Cassia rolls her eyes. There was never a problem with Daphne's flower crown. But there was no problem with Cassia's flower crown when Harry went to fix it.

     Cassia sighs. How bloody oblivious. "Never mind."

     Without another word, they head down the tunnel, and when they reach the other big black door guarding the Slytherin common room—after uttering the password—and after Pansy gave both twins that deadly look meaning put that blindfold on or else, they tied each blindfold to shield their eyes. Cassia was slightly more content to see Pansy help Daphne with hers. So that they wouldn't fall, trip up, or any of that nasty stuff, Cassia and Daphne linked their arms in each of Pansy's and they proceeded through the common room. The sounds of commotion engulfed their solely-hearing ears and while they couldn't see, they could definitely hear the whistles and cheers of those around them as they made their way through—which Cassia felt had something to do with them being two blindfolded birthday twins more than anything else—and eventually come to an abrupt halt.

     "Good god, have we reached our deathbed yet?" asks Daphne.

     "Yeah, where are we?" says Cassia, practically revolving around the spot, with no idea whatsoever of her whereabouts.

     They hear Pansy scoff. "I would've presumed that by now, you'd know your common room well enough to know that this is the dorm stairs, but, okay."

The twins elbow Pansy. Defensively, Pansy engages her ribs together and the twins can't see the pout of the dark-haired girl.

"Abuse," remarks Pansy.

With the twins still being blindfolded, getting up the stairs proved to be quite difficult with the twin's had trust issues in hoping Pansy wouldn't take this to an extra advantage. Yet poor Pansy ended up with an elbow to the eye (courtesy of Cassia) and her hair being—accidentally, of course— yanked on (courtesy of Daphne). But eventually, they got to the top, and Pansy was getting rather exhausted of being the escort.

"Okay," says Pansy, "You can take your blindfolds off in three... two... one..."

At the exact moment they take their blindfolds off, a door is heard clicking open and so are a load of boisterous streamers and cheers. A yelling of "SURPRISE" is what the twins are confronted with, as is being faced with Daphne's dormitory, completely decked out in banners, balloons and the bright faces of their roommates and friends. There was a bed topped with a hard surface used to display an abundance of food, from cheese twists to sugar quills, pumpkin juice to Butterbeer. A large banner hung between two bedposts depicting a written "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAPHNE AND CASSIA!" in sparkly rainbow writing, and Astoria, Maryam, Eva, Millicent, Tracey were all there, party blowers and poppers in hand. Even Sadie and Ebony, Cassia's more reserved dormmates, and a couple of Astoria's friends, were also present.

Cassia and Daphne are pounced on with countless hugs, shock registering behind their wide smiles. Feather boas are thrown around their shoulders and party hats are pulled on their heads as they're bombarded with all these birthday comments, both still in disbelief at this shindig that all their eyes could do was marvel at the confetti thrown into the air.

     "Happy birthday!" Eva yells into Cassia's ear, pulling her in for yet another hug.

     "You already said happy birthday to me," says Cassia, the shock having not yet left her system.

     Maryam comes into view with a party blower between her teeth. "Well, that was this morning, when you didn't know we'd be throwing you this party!" She says. "Happy birthday, Cass!"

     "You didn't have to do this," says Cassia.

     "It's your sixteenth birthday," Maryam remarks blatantly. "Of course we did."

     Maryam envelops Cassia in a hug, her arms squeezing affectionately around her neck, and through her strong and excited grip Cassia can see Daphne having her own conversation with Tracey over by the door. Daphne was smiling widely.

"Thank you." says Cassia, her mouth muffled against Maryam's hair, "thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Maryam grins. When they break apart, Eva looks as though she's had an epiphany and gasps, putting her hands on Cassia's shoulders.

"You need to see the cake!"

"Cake?" Cassia questions.

"Yes, cake!" Eva exclaims. "Of course there's cake, and it's bloody good cake, me and Maryam sampled them ourselves—Daphne, c'mere—you're gonna love this!"

Eva grabs Cassia's wrist before going over and—quite literally—pulling Daphne out of her own conversation, yanking them both to the spare bed in Daphne's dormroom. There was a silver platter with a massive cake resting on it. It was easily the size of a medium landscape painting with multiple layers, alternating between chocolate brown to vanilla white. But the picture that made the surface stood out, and so did the plentiful candles on both side.
The picture was of two girls, around eight years old, decked in massive pink tutus and large boas with massive cheesing smiles and arms around each other looking into the camera. They both had auburn hair—one of them slightly darker while the others' appeared more reddish—and were standing in front of a banner that depicted a similar occasion to this one.

"Oh my god, where did you get this picture?" Daphne says. Her and Cassia looked slightly mortified, if not in awe.

  Maryam smirks. "A little owl to Marlowe Greengrass went a long way. House elves certainly have their share of creativity."

"I mean, I'll have to plot my own revenge scheme for you two using this picture," says Cassia, "but thank you—honestly—I don't know what to say—"

"Thank you?" Eva furrows her eyebrows, laughing. "You've said it a hundred times already."

Cassia cocks her head to the side, grinning. "I'm thankful. So, so thankful. I... don't deserve you guys."

"Well, too bad!" Maryam enthusiastically thrusts a flagon of butterbeer in Cassia's hand before she could protest. "It's your birthday, and this is all for you, so if you're not ready to throw up all the over-excessive amounts of food you're about to eat by the end of the night, my job will not have been complete. The hard part was deciding on chocolate fudge and vanilla for the cake—since you and Daphne are complete polar opposites in favourite cake flavours— so I went for both. And I'm giving up my quidditch diet for this one day, so you better binge like it's your last chance."

"Okay," Cassia smiles, "okay. Okay."

"One last thing," says Eva. She heads to the corner of the room and brings out a wrapped box. "This was on your bed before we got here? Might be a present from your grandparents or something."

"Huh," Cassia frowns, overturning the package in her hands, "my grandparents already sent us those imperishable flowers from Bulgaria... I'll open it later. Thanks."

"That's enough thank yous from you today," Eva laughs, "Now go enjoy your party! I'll keep this safe for you."

Eva takes the box from Cassia's hands and disappears in a flurry of blonde hair, leaving Cassia to look over the decorated dorm room and all of the buzzing, excited inhabitants with admiration. She was so, so, so grateful for her friends.

———

location: nott manor

MAXIMUS THE OWL WAS A SNOB. As snobbish as owls could get. He stood on two feet all the time, never once bent down (not even to get food, you had to feed it to him yourself, the little shit) and he never let you pet him. Everything was on his terms. Only when he said (he can't speak, but whatever) you could touch him, you could; only when he was ready to send off a letter, he would. And if it was over a 12-hour journey long, he would refuse altogether. Max was a dick.

     "What the hell, Max?" says Theo. He should know by now that his owl was very much his own person (animal). With that being said, after having returned from his latest venture, Max took pleasure in shedding a hoard of silvery grey feathers on Theo's carpet. Max remains unbothered. Theo glares at him. He wishes he had another nicer, less pompous owl. "Fuck you."

     After gathering the feathers and dumping them out of his window, to be scattered onto an unsuspecting bush down below, Theo eventually manages to coax Max back into his cage. His coat underneath his arm, his trunk all zipped up... Nearly two weeks later, Theo was ready to make the trip back to Hogwarts. He was glad Dumbledore hadn't given him a proper timescale of staying away. This small break... even though it wasn't a break... refreshed Theo, in a way. Enlightened him. He had an uncle, an aunt, cousins (one of which he knew and spoke to quite a few times). He learnt what happened to his mum and how he came to be... He felt better. Not great. But better.

It was also Cassia's birthday. Theo knew this very well. This time had usually always been a time of celebration for him, for rough birthday bumps on the shoulder right in that joint, a time of specialty cake in the common room, of gift donations, of cheer, of mirth, of happiness.

     But for Theo, at least, this time it wasn't.

     And it felt bitter in a sense too. Bitter knowing that for so long they did everything together and now they didn't. How could they let this happen to themselves...

     In a matter of time Theo would be back in Hogwarts. Which means he would be back in class, back in the Slytherin common room, back in the Great Hall. Close proximity to the girl in all aspects. So maybe it was the time to take the leap. It's like Uncle Xavier had said: Theo is capable of forgiveness. And if Theo knew anything about the girl he previously befriended, she would be too.

     That leads him to his to-do list. From now, Theo has approximately three things fresh in his mind, three goals he wishes to accomplish:

          1. Tell someone (Cassia) about the curse of his family. Which involves making up with Cassia too. Which adds about ten more things to the list, but we can ignore them right now.

          2. Meet his cousin. That's a bit of a pointless statement, since Theo and Sterling have already met before, but that was as classmates, and as Daphne Greengrass's boyfriend. Now it'll be as cousins. How bizarre.

          3. Try to fend of this curse (and his father) for as long as possible. Theo's mother said he wouldn't be going into "therapy" (not really, the woman who does occlumency just happened to be a therapist) until the summer, after his O.W.L's, so he would just have to do the best he could to... keep his father out of his head. Merlin knows how he'll do that.

          Oh, here's a bonus: nail his O.W.L's. Not that he wouldn't, he's a prodigy, but it's just another stress that's relevant in his list of stresses.

     Theo takes a deep breath knowing that in going down to his parlour fireplace, he'd have to encounter his father once more. He'd done amazing in avoiding Nott Senior this entire trip and wanted the same fate this time too. He lugs his trunk and Max down the stairs and stops at the parlour door.

Nott was in a large leather chair reading a book. Part of Theo, the bibliophile within, wanted to know what book it was, but he didn't dare. He just hoped he could be lucky in saying those two words, and then not having to see him until the summer. But having to share a mind with him either way.

"I'm leaving," says Theo. His voice makes Nott crane his neck to the side of the door.

Nott says nothing. Theo takes this as his cue and advances to the fireplace where he would Floo into Dumbledore's office. He is thinking he might have gotten lucky and escaped having to converse with his father, but is stopped at the sound of that obsidian voice.

"You've met your uncle," says Nott.

     Theo was never a lucky boy anyways.

"About two weeks late in acknowledging it," Theo retorts, "but yeah. I met Xavier."

Nott's face was emphatic. "You should do well to know you're better off without your mother's side of the family."

"Think I can make up my own mind about them myself, thanks. Goodbye."

Theo starts back towards the fireplace bug is once again halted by his father's voice.

"How is Cassia Greengrass, by the way?"

     He stops in his tracks. Max the owl falls back in his cage at the abrupt stop. Theo's jaw cracks with the intensity it took to stop him from snapping. Nobody, not Draco Malfoy, not his father, could take Cassia's name like that. It didn't matter that there was this whole rift between him and the Greengrass girl.

     "You know very well what happened," Theo says, his voice deepening into the lowest depths of his subconscious, a prime reminder of what that girl herself told him when she snapped. Theo's hand grips hard against his trunk and cage. He doesn't know when, or how, but at some point his father had left his chair and now stood mere inches away from Theo, assured, composed, malevolent.

     "Yes, I do," Nott professes, "It's the beauty of our little connection. I remember word-for-word everything you two said to each other. Do you?"

     He remembers it all so well and he wishes he didn't. That was one of the worst moments of his life: he was hurt beyond console yet he hurt her. He thinks that was what pained him the most. More than those words she said out of spite.

     You're more like your father than you think.

     "What do you want?" Theo says. He just wanted to leave this place. Leave and go to Hogwarts, even if it was in ministry-induced chaos.

     Nott's lips press together. "You know what I want, Theodore."

     Theo raises an eyebrow. "Me to become your precious little Death Eater, right?" He snaps, "Well too bad. It's not happening. I will never do anything for you."

     "It has nothing to do with me when it's in your destiny. It's about time you admit your fate. Everybody else has. Even Cassia Greengrass."

      "Don't you dare use her name like that," Without thinking, Theo steps forward and matches his father's glare. His hazel eyes glistened in a burning fury, a flame thundering around the edges of his irises. All this rage, all this anger: it's a product of the connection he and his father share. His anger comes first and foremost, from his father. Theo hates how his father profits from seeing his son tick. "It's not in my fate to become a pathetic man like you whose sole wish is to kiss the arse of a psychopathic bastard."

     Smack. Blazing pain shoots across Theo's cheek. Nott's strong backhand retracted from Theo's face in a sharp, swift strike, leaving behind a red gash on his cheek. Blood leaked out the cut Nott caused on his son's face, the older man's stare dangerous and spiked.

     "You will respect your father and most especially the Dark Lord," Nott's harsh voice thrashed at Theo's face. The younger boy was unable to meet his father's eyes despite being taller. Theo hates this feeling so much. So, so much.

     Nott seizes Theo's chin with his thumb and forefinger. He tuts to himself, examining the freshly-induced hot red cut running along his cheek. Theo tries his hardest not to wince.

     "A shame to do this to such a pretty face," Nott pouts, his tone laced with mockery. "We Notts always did carry the best appearances in the Wizarding world."

     "Piss off," Theo spat in Nott's face, swatting his fingers away from his face with force and putting distance between them. "I will never be what you are."

     The thing is, Theo could be scared. He could show his father his fear. But after all these years, he's learnt that being scared does nothing. Sure, there's blood tricking down his cheek and sure, there's a chance the older man could strike again. But there comes a point the accumulation of a certain feelings leaves someone feeling nothing in the wake of these perishing emotions. That was Theo. Right now, fear was... redundant. Theo knows he's pushing his father's buttons. The only frightening thing about that is his ability to remain calm through it all, as if it's the odd peacefulness that precedes a raging storm.

Nott lets out a morbid chortle.

     "You can't escape the inevitable, Theodore," says Nott, easing his stance and thumbing his pocket watch in his hands. "Almost as much as you can't escape that horrid language. Like you can't escape me."

     "Fucking try me," Theo seethes, snatching his trunk and Max's cage. Without paying another glance to his father and without even bothering to show any hint of acknowledgment to the red blood running down his cheek, his footsteps thrash towards the fireplace.

He connects eyes with the composed man in the parlour once more, an untameable rage preceding him, and grabs the Floo Powder. Before he knows it, he's back in Dumbledore's Study and Max is squawking like the entitled, dickish owl he is.

Maybe becoming a Death Eater was inevitable for Theo. Maybe it was his destiny, and maybe he would be bound to end up like his father. But he didn't want to give in to it... he couldn't. Maybe it was his time to learn how to rebel.

———

ALL CASSIA COULD TASTE — EVEN HOURS LATER — WAS SUGAR. To say that she'd had a lot of food was a bit of an understatement, and she knew for a fact that by morning her stomach would yearn for a diet consisting of solely water and vegetables. But it was worth it, she supposed. Her birthday party was amazing. With it being unexpected and a complete surprise made it even better.

     At some point, they'd retreated to back to their dorm rooms, carrying masses of leftover cake too. They'd even had enough that a massive quarter would be left at the table in the common room for any other passing students to get. Stranded on the floor in a heap of displaced duvets and pillows, Cassia felt her arm weighed down and saw a sleeping Maryam sprawled on her stomach over it. The shape of the duvets were definitely to be questioned, twisted in many pretzel-like shapes from which Eva was also curled within on the floor. Tugging gently on her own arm, Cassia manages to pry it from beneath Maryam without waking the sleeping girl (who'd have been in too deep of a sleep to be interrupted by her attempts anyways) and rises lightly to her feet.

     The stained glass was tinted by a dark glare, the moonlight a glistening haze through its pattering texture. Even now, though it were dark, Cassia still didn't feel the sleep she should be feeling. It's exactly the same feeling that drove her to the Astronomy Tower every night last year, and it's the exact feeling that stayed with her for a long time. She wondered if she'd always have such sleeping habits, and she wondered if she could ever overcome them.

     Rather than sleeping, she'd been on her back, her wand twirling in her hands and looking at the ceiling. Phoenix Greengrass loved the stars and he loved Astronony, and this definitely radiated onto his daughters. He taught her a spell that allowed for a projection of the night sky to glow on her ceiling; similar to the sky effect on the Great Hall. When Cassia finds she can't sleep — so, most nights — she often projects this spell onto the top panel of her bed frame, a miniature astral projection that enraptures Cassia's mind regardless of the size. And since she'd left her bed for this one night, the dorm ceiling proved to be of an even more widespread circumference for the constellations to be spread out across. Sometimes her roommates got her to do the spell too. She finds she's able to just look up and let her mind wander within the constellations — a cacophony of thoughts flowing into the smallest of stars to the largest and most magnificent of arrangements, from Leo, to Auriga, to Scorpius. It showed so much and so little, so little compared to the entire galaxy awaiting them.

     Stars are beautiful. That's what Phoenix taught her from a young age. That when you need to think, stars will engulf you in a nebula of glittering cosmic energy, of matter too complex to be utilised on earth. That when you think, stars will let you be lost in your thoughts while feeling that you're actually... found.

     And speaking of the man in question, these stars gave Cassia the chance to be lost in possibility. The possibility and chances of everything to do with her father and everything to do with him being a Death Eater. It made sense while it certainly didn't. And all Cassia wanted was to talk to him. He was her father, and she was his daughter, and that's what they do. They talk. Like a family does. Not just Cassia and Phoenix. Marlowe, Astoria, Daphne too. Things were always better when they talked. It might be a natural family instinct, but it was a natural Greengrass instinct.

     She picks up one of the slices of cake wrapped in a napkin and drags a cardigan over her arms. There was no denying the draft would be strong out there. She was about to take a step over Eva's flailing blond curls when she's reminded of something, when she sees something.

On her bed, the one stripped bare of her duvet, was a small gift-wrapped box. It was the one Eva had brought in for her earlier, claiming it could've been from her grandparents—only that wasn't possible. They already got their gift from their grandparents, and not to mention this was one gift solely addressed to Cassia.

So Cassia sits down on the edge of the bed and lifts the box into her lap. She unwraps it, picking off the lid, and finds two things. An envelope and a book. The envelope only had her name but the book had a title: The Giver, and it was by someone called Lois Lowry. There was a sticky note on the front. Cassia could recognise that handwriting anywhere.

Overall review:
• Pretty short book. Could probably finish within an hour or two.
• Made me think I should probably stop taking Max for granted but he's a dick, so, no thanks.
• Great if you're big on cliffhangers. I got annoyed for a day or two before deciding to drown my frustration in the house elves soup instead.
• Too many confusing concepts than humanely possible. No wonder it's set in the future, our mind spans can't handle shit.
• Makes you rethink your life and all that stuff. Be ready to note down life-changing concepts in your journal.
• Good book overall. I give it 4.3/5. There's supposed to be a second book in the series but the author has just about disappeared off the face of the earth right now. So, yeah. Enjoy.

Cassia doesn't know why she's smiling so hard. It could be because the review she'd gotten was somewhat humorous, or it could be because... Theo. This was from him. All of it. Even the card, after she'd opened it and read: Happy Birthday, Cassia. Theo. The bleakness of the card and his derisive humour made no difference. Not when she didn't think their friendship could ever stand a chance, not when she didn't think that she'd be sitting here on her bed, reading the thorough annotations he'd made on sticky notes within the book. This... he made that effort.

Theo and Cassia had broken up — friendship-wise, of course. Everyone knew this. So many people witnessed the fight that went down between them and watched as she stalked away from her once best friend. Because back then, Cassia was hurt that Theo had kept such a big thing from her. But back then, she never considered the reasons why. Maybe Blaise Zabini was right, and this was proof that Theodore Nott missed having Cassia as a friend. And if Cassia had to be honest... she and Theo had never been apart for this long.

She missed her best friend.

Cassia pulls the edges of the book closed. Her half-smile is illuminated by the starry night sky above, the glittering constellations and the spell causing them slowly fading away. She puts the book and the card back in the box, closed the lid and sets it to the foot of her bed. She'll read the book later.

The dormitory door creaks shut behind Cassia, paying one final glance to her roommates before she heads down. Her mind is clouded by everything and the fog of nebula: thoughts of her friends and the surprise party they threw her and Daphne, thoughts of her boyfriend and where she was about to go, thoughts of her family and what would become of the Greengrass family with time. Thoughts of Theo too. Perhaps... hopeful thoughts.

At long last, Cassia's feet materialise on the bottom step. The common room is empty, the green hue a companion illumination to the orange wickers of fire. Except... on the arm of a leather armchair by the hearth, Cassia can see a book propped up... by a hand. There's a small silhouette overhead, and a head is shadowed by the light radiating from the fire. The head is notified of approaching steps, and swivels around. No longer focused on the book he was reading, Theodore Nott's worn out eyes connects with the staggered gaze of Cassia's.

     Crap.

     Cassia doesn't know what to do. The last time she and Theo had had a run-in like this was the night of the First Task last year (god, so much has happened within the last year) and he found her sneaking off to see Harry. That time they were friends. This time... Cassia doesn't know what they are. And she doesn't know what to do at all.

     "Uh, hey, um," Her voice was running on fumes she doesn't remember fuelling herself with. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."

     "No, uh, you didn't bother me," He replies in a hollow tone, rubbing the hand bearing the book across his forehead. The tension in his shoulders was undeniable.

     "I didn't know you were back." says Cassia.

     "Got back this afternoon." says Theo.

     Cassia nods. "Is your Mum okay?"

     "She's fine," Theo confirms. Cassia was about to ask what was wrong with her in the first place but leaves it at that.

"I, uh, I got your gift," Cassia says. She was unable to believe that they were actually talking, and not out of pettiness, or spite. There was still an invisible wall up between them, but it didn't seem as big as before. "Thanks."

"It's cool," He dismissed. "Have you read it?"

"No," Cassia shakes her head, "I was gonna read it tomorrow."

"It's a, uh, good book."

"Oh, um... cool."

     Cassia clears her throat. This got uncomfortable fast. At least they weren't fighting. The light of the flames flicker over his face and what's made visible is a cut across his cheek, the skin inflamed in red. It slashed along his cheekbone, where blood seemed to have dried up. Cassia's mouth gapes.

     "What happened to your face?"

     Theo furrows his brows for a minute as if not knowing what she was talking about before recognition overcame his eyes, and his fingers rose to that particular spot in question. Before a depreciating laugh fell lowly from his lips.

     He clicks his tongue shortly. "Daddy dearest," he says, "what else?"

     Cassia's eyes soften. No matter what happens between them, no animosity will ever hide the ruthlessness of his father and that no matter what, he didn't deserve to have to live with someone like that. "Theo—"

     "I'm fine." He cuts her off. "It's nothing that hasn't already happened. Blaise and his healing skills fixed it for me anyways."

     Silence. Cassia doesn't know why she wasn't leaving.

     "What happened this time?" Cassia asks, a careful approach to her tone.

     "The usual," he replies, shrugging, "I was being an obnoxious prick. He was being even more of an obnoxious prick. Add two obnoxious pricks into an equation, the weaker one is bound to get slapped."

     "You're not weak." Cassia's voice was quiet. "Or like your father."

     Theo said nothing.

     "Did you swear?" Cassia asks Theo, her mouth threatening a grin. She already knew the answer. Nott Senior hates foul language.

     Theo pretends to count in his head. "At least three different varieties."

     A small grin slides across his face, and Cassia finds herself smiling. Then she remembers: Harry.

     "I have to go," says Cassia.

     "Okay," says Theo. "Make sure no one catches you and Potter snogging."

     Cassia halts, shooting him a look.

     "You're predictable." Theo deadpans.

     She refrains from retorting. Yet it feels as though a smile is glued onto her face.

     "Night."

     "Night." Theo says, and Cassia is unable to see his gratified, precious smile as she leaves the common room.

     That was something.

     Cassia departs from the common room and finds herself in the same place she was met by Daphne and Pansy earlier. It was nearly pitch black had it not been for the small spurt of wand light given by her wand, and she scoured the space for any sign, careful of the fact she could get caught. Especially since Snape's office was nearby.

     "Harry?" She whispers into the darkness, her footsteps light as she traced her surroundings. "Are you here?"

     (She hoped he was, because if he wasn't, it would be like that time in the Forbidden Forest — her conscious would not give her a break.)

     Hands close around her shoulders from behind. Her immediate instinct caused her to whip around in lightning speed and she points her lit-up wand into the person's jugular, prodding deeply into the most sensitive cavities of flesh. Only when her tensed-up shoulders managed to get a glimpse of the boy half-hiding under his invisibility cloak, did they drop down in relief alongside her wand. Cassia's head drops down onto Harry's chest, her eyes closing in an attempt to steady her jumping heart rate.

"God," she breathes against his chest. Harry takes this as a chance to let his invisibility cloak drop and glance down at his girlfriend with an amused smile.

"Hey," he says. Cassia, having finally gained composure, has her head rise and swats at his chest.

"Stop creeping up on me!" She frowns. "It's very disorientating."

"My bad," Harry chuckles, lifting his hands in a faint surrender. "How was the party?"

"Wild," she tells him with a whooshing breath. She smiles. "But amazing. Thank you."

     "For what?" asks Harry.

     "For being a horrid distraction." She snaps. "Does the negative energy emanating from Snape's office not give your Occlumency-learning mind a headache now?"

     Harry lets out a surprised laugh, taken aback. His eyes flit to the door of Snape's office a small stretch away and feigns a pained expression. "No, you're right. Any longer and I might have pass out. The lack of shampoo really pollutes your brain."

Cassia can't help but laugh. "I have something for you."

"Wait—" Before she can hand him over the cake wrapped in her hand, Harry was quick to scramble and picked up a box that had been dropped on the floor alongside his cloak. He lifts the box and holds it in his hands towards Cassia. "For you, birthday girl."

In the darkness of the Slytherin dungeons, an amused Cassia takes the box and balances it in the crook of her elbow. She lifts the lid off, and only when the light from her wand shines over it, Cassia can see it's a hat. A bucket hat. One that had ears popping out at each side on the top and a stitched smile on the black fabric.

"A hat," says Cassia.

"A frog hat," Harry encourages.

     "A frog hat," Cassia iterates.

     Harry looks smug. "Payback for that dragon hat. Paid a little visit to Gladrags. That weird guy Enzo helped me out, he did this weird sort of meditation thing. I think it worked."

     "Aren't you meant to be banned from Hogsmeade or something?" Cassia points out, her eyes squinting all over her somewhat hilarious birthday gift. She couldn't deny, though: it was cute. Very cute. Perhaps the hat, but definitely her boyfriend.

     "A little invisibility cloak goes a long way," Harry smirks. She can tell he's trying his hardest not to laugh as he asks, "What do you think?"

     "You know what?" Cassia puts the hat on top of her head, her hands fitting the edges down. She gives him a cheesing grin. "It's cute."

     "Is it really?" Harry raises an eyebrow.

     "Yeah!" Cassia laughs. "I actually love it."

     Harry lets out an incredulous chuckle. "I'm glad."

     "Is this our new thing then?" A grin twitches at Cassia's lips.

     "What is?"

     "Us. This. Buying each other weird hats. Our thing."

     "I... suppose it is. Every couple has a thing, right?"

"Yeah," Cassia smiles, "They do." She presents the slice of cake in her hand to Harry with both hands. "Your gift."

With a curiously raised eyebrow, Harry takes the cake. He lifts the folded part of the napkin, peering in closely. He grins.

"Cute kid," he says, flashing her a lopesided grin. "Chocolate and vanilla sponge?"

Cassia nods pleasantly. "Me and Daphne were never identical taste-wise."

"And what's this on the top that I'm going to be eating?"

Cassia realises he was talking about the picture of her and Daphne imprinted on top. She looks over and squints her head above it.

"That happens to be half of my eight year old face, torso and my extra special feather boa. I ended up eating the matching tutus me and Daphne wore."

"Tutus." Harry's eyes drop.

"Pink tutus," Cassia corrects with confidence, "We were very fashionable eight year olds."

"I bet," Harry snickers. His eyes zero in on the cropped image detailing the cake. They narrow in surprise slightly. "I didn't know you were ginger when you were younger?"

Cassia nods in confirmation, amused by his astonishment. "I mean, I still kind of am. It's more brown than red now though. The ginger-ness kinda grew out as I grew up, so I was never a complete ginger. I have nothing on the Weasleys, anyways."

Harry hums, understanding where she was coming from. He shoots her a look.

"Speaking of Weasleys..."

"The twins?" Cassia alludes, a bit too sharply. "They're great, aren't they? Ginny Weasley too. She's a whirlwind. Mum says Percy Weasley is just a massive suck-up in the Ministry, shes not overly fond of him. Charlie Weasley is lovely. Never did meet Bill Weasley, though...—"

"I was talking about Ron," Harry laughs.

Cassia clicks her tongue, mocking her sudden awareness. "Ah, of course. What about my poker buddy?"

"That, exactly," says Harry. He gives her a knowing grin. "You've softened up towards him."

Cassia scoffs. "I have not."

"You have."

"Shut it. He's still annoying. The idiot won every poker game of ours till date yet he still hasn't accepted my money? Come on."

"He's a Weasley," Harry muses, looking down, "They don't accept money that easily. I had to practically force that Triwizard money down Fred and George before they actually took it."

"You gave them your tournament earnings?" Cassia asks, incredulous.

"Well, yeah," says Harry. "They needed it more than I did."

Her lips part into a slight smile, and a loose chuckle escapes her. Her hand pushes away a few strands of hair clumping over his bespectacled eyes. "The world needs more people like you, Harry Potter."

Harry raises an eyebrow. "You might want to rethink that statement."

Cassia rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know." Harry smiles. He steps forward, cupping his hand around her neck and pressing his lips to hers briefly, but enough for Cassia to savour the moment by leaning in. When he steps back, she's smiling at him. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the cake."

"Thanks for the hat," Cassia returns, tilting the edge of her bucket hat in a lighthearted salute. He nods at her once before replacing the cloak over himself. Cassia bites her lip.

"Harry," Cassia said, and her voice reached him as much as her hand did. She'd managed to take his hand before he disappeared completely underneath the invisibility cloak. He turned around with a questioning look, one that only grew with the unreadable one in hers.

     Before he could react she stepped forward, placed both hands to his cheeks and lightly dragged his face down, connecting his lips with hers in an instant. Harry's confusion only melted into ease and both of them were subject to a burning exhilaration that was existential in that moment. His free hand wraps tightly around her waist, chest-against-chest, and when the ends of Harry's cloak fan around Cassia, it's just them two in their own bubble, and to one side, nobody could see the Gryffindor and Slytherin together with the grace of the invisibility cloak.

When she breaks apart from him, his lips chase after hers for a second wanting more before halting, both of them breathless, the same questioning look in his eyes as before. He stares at her, their cheeks flushed, her hands encircling the warmth in his face a mere inch from hers and his arm holding her close.

"What was that for," Harry asks, out of breath.

"Perfect end to an amazing day," Cassia replies, her lips perking up by the corners as she relishes in the moment, eye-to-eye with Harry, cerulean on emerald.

Harry smiles.

They slowly disconnect, the feeling of losing each other's touch a distant thought, and Harry holds the invisibility cloak over his head with one hand.

"Don't get caught," says Cassia before he'd completely grown unnoticeable to the human eye.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry replies, flashing her the most obscure of smiles, the kind that made Cassia think, she was lucky to be alive.

***

perhaps i loved writing this chapter 🙈🙈 apart from the thing with theo's dad phew never hated a man in my life. but yes appreciate marlowe greengrass for giving birth to the twins on February 24th (i lit don't even know why i picked that day i didn't know what day in february to do it but my friend naomi said her birthday was that day so i just settled 😭😭) my fav girls ever. and harry and cassia make me soft ™️

(also this question is so late by now bye but what would harry and cassia's ship name be?? i thought hassia and carry but surprise me pls <3)

anyways today's been the most whirlwind of a day (hint, my mum gave birth to a baby girl and i absolutely can't wait to see her soon) so i wanted to end it on a good note. literally been under so much stress lately with covid, my mum's pregnancy, school tests and homework's so hopefully things can calm down now (i just know they won't omf) but i've really loved writing lately. as usual, vote, comment, be amazing and stay safe, healthy and if you're having bad days, have faith and hope that things will improve in time. i love you all and appreciate you with all my heart!!! — saar xxx