The next few days passed in a blur.

Assignments piled up. Snape's moonstone essay loomed over them like a death sentence. McGonagall's transfiguration questions, and somewhere in the middle of it all, Cassie had to throw together something half-decent about the proper handling of bowtruckles for Grubbly-Plank. Along with taht studying runes, practicing Daggers and a few other strong spells taht took quite the toll on her magic,

Cassie barely knew what day it was anymore. The week had passed in a haze of ink-stained fingers, parchment piling up, and the mind-numbing repetition of detention.

"You're not even listening," Draco accused, flicking a balled-up scrap of paper at her head.

Cassie didn't flinch. She barely blinked. Her quill scraped across the page as she jotted down the last of Snape's moonstone essay. "Mmhm."

"You didn't even hear what I said."

"Probably not," she admitted.

Draco scoffed.

Blaise sighed dramatically, dropping his head onto the table. "I don't understand how you're still functioning. I can barely see straight, and I haven't been spending my evenings being tortured by a pink toad."

Cassie gave a lazy smirk. "Builds character."

"Or it just makes you completely unhinged," Pansy muttered, flipping a page in his textbook. "And let's be honest, you were already halfway there."

Theo scowled, reaching across the table to push a goblet of pumpkin juice toward Cassie. "You look like death. Drink this before you actually drop dead."

Cassie took it without argument.

Blaise whistled. "Merlin, she's too exhausted to even bite back. We might need to alert the authorities."

Theo nudged Cassie's arm. "You have to be considering murder at this point, right?"

Cassie snorted. "Oh, it's been on my mind."

Draco sighed, rubbing his temples. "If you do snap, at least let me write to my father first. He'll handle it."

Cassie hummed noncommittally, returning to her parchment.

She could feel Theo watching her, his gaze sharp and assessing. He wasn't fooled by her silence. None of them were, really. But they also knew better than to press too hard.

For now.

And detention?

Constant.

The same unbroken routine—walk in, write, ignore Potter, leave.

Umbridge had been especially pleased with how deep the message had sunk into Cassie's hand in just a few weeks. She even had the nerve to call it impressive and promised to graciously waive next week's detentions.

Cassie didn't respond. She just sat through that umbitch's classes,not even reading that shit, It wasn't even because she wanted to avoid attention—though she did.

No.

It was because every second her mind wasn't occupied, she was thinking about curses.

Curses that would make Umbridge scream.

Every time she turned a page in her textbook, she imagined turning a wand on that woman's toadlike face. Every time she dipped her quill in ink, she imagined her own blood replacing it. It was also cos-

She was being watched.

She knew it.

Lucius Malfoy's letter to Draco last week had been scathing, practically blaming him for not restraining her.

Cassie could bite her tongue for Draco's sake.

For now.

But Umbridge was hanging by the last thread of her patience. The day it snapped- hell rained on Umbridge

******************

The week dragged on till it was finally Saturday- Cassie breathed a sigh of relief- finally a day she could just chill in the room of requirement throwing daggers at Umbridge mannequins

The early morning light filtered in . Cassie already knew—she wouldn't be getting any more sleep. The same shitty nightmares. There was no point in lying around.

With a quiet exhale, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her wand, and left the dormitory.

The castle was mostly silent at this hour,  A few ghosts drifted lazily through the air, and the suits of armor stood . No students. No interruptions.

Perfect.

She liked Hogwarts like this—before the world woke up, before she had to plaster on an expression that didn't give her away.

A sharp cackle cut through the silence.

Peeves.

Cassie spotted him hovering near the bust of Paracelsus, grinning madly.

"Oi, Miss Black—join me in a bit of mischief?" he sing-songed. "A most hilarious trick for the next fool to pass by!"

Cassie tapped her chin, pretending to consider. "The bust, huh?"

Peeves beamed.

Cassie smirked. "Drop it on someone's head."

Peeves gasped. "Miss Black!"

"Make sure it's a Gryffindor."

Peeves howled in delight, already zooming upward. "On it Boss"

Cassie gave him a lazy salute and kept walking.

And then—

A figure stepping out from the owlery.

Harry Potter.

His shoulders were tense, his expression tight. He looked... worse than usual.

Cassie met his gaze as she passed, lifting her chin slightly. "Sup?"

Harry blinked.

Then, like an idiot, he actually looked around like she had to be talking to someone else.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Yes, you," she deadpanned, pointing at him.

Harry frowned. "Nothing."

"Uh-huh." She gave him a once-over. "Because you definitely don't look like you just fucked something up."

Harry's scowl deepened.

 "Let me guess—you wrote to your dearest godfather. "

He tensed.

"Knew it." She clicked her tongue. "You only write when it's serious."

Harry didn't reply. just stared at her.

He wasn't sure what unsettled him more—the fact that she had figured it out so fast, or the way she said it so casually, like it was obvious.

It reminded him—uncomfortably—of the way she had effortlessly outmaneuvered Dumbledore in that order Meeting he had heard through the ears.

A part of him knew she probably had the answer to whatever was gnawing at his mind.

Cassie tilted her head,. "You wanna ask me something, don't you?"

Harry hesitated. Then, instead of answering, he said, "How do you do that?"

Cassie blinked. "Do what?"

Harry frowned. "Just... know things."

Cassie snorted. "Potter, it's painted all over your face. You're absolute shit at hiding what you're thinking."

Harry clenched his jaw.

Cassie smirked, stepping past him. "For the safety of everyone, let's hope you never get captured."

Harry exhaled sharply, He knew he shouldn't say anything—knew he should just brush it off and walk away. But the words came out anyway, strained, like it was taking everything in him to push them past his ego.

"It's nothing," he muttered, almost too low to hear. "It's just... last night, when I was in detention with Umbridge, my scar hurt, and I thought—"

Cassie raised an unimpressed brow. "What if the Dark Lord is possessing her? Like he possessed Quirrell?"

Harry stiffened, his stomach twisting at the casual way she said Dark Lord, 

Cassie rubbed her neck, looking vaguely annoyed. "You decided to ask Sirius about this? He won't know shit."

Harry scowled. He knew that, but it wasn't like he had many options. He shrugged, frustrated.

Cassie hummed, more to herself than to him. "Yeah, figures."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"What? Just being observant," she shot back. Then, before he could retort, she tilted her head. "Anyway, to answer your dumbass theory—no. Obviously not."

Harry blinked. "What?"

Cassie sighed like he was the dumbest person alive. "First of all—Draco knows that woman very well. She is very high up in the Ministry. Has a reputation.  No matter how horrible she may be, she's not a Death Eater. And she's definitely not being possessed."

Harry frowned, trying to keep up as she started walking, expecting him to follow. "How do you know that?"

Cassie sighed, like explaining basic arithmetic to a particularly slow child. "Think, Potter. When Voldemort possessed Quirrell, he had no choice. He had no body. No form. He had to latch onto something to survive."

Harry nodded, reluctant but following.

"But last year," she continued, "he took your blood. He got himself a body, right?"

Harry hesitated. but he nodded.

"And along with your wands being linked, you're now connected by blood too."

Harry stiffened, recoiling instinctively.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. It's just blood."

Harry's glare deepened. "You say that like it doesn't matter."

Cassie's expression didn't shift. "It does matter. That's exactly the point."

Harry exhaled again. his mind working to keep up.

"The fact that you survived the Killing Curse was already unnatural," Cassie went on, "It shouldn't have happened. Since it did. It would have left behind some kind of magic connection."

"This scar," Cassie continued, tapping her own forehead pointedly, "isn't just a mark. It's a link."

Something about the way she said it—so calm, so sure—sent a chill down Harry's spine.

"So maybe your scar hurts when he's nearby," she mused. "Maybe when he's using strong magic. Maybe even when he's feeling something intense—anger, pain, happiness—"

Harry scoffed. "Happiness?"

Cassie shrugged. "Hey, I don't know. I'd have to read about it."

Harry blinked. "You'd read about it?"

Cassie scowled "Obviously. I don't like jumping to conclusions—unlike you."

Harry scowled. "I don't jump to conclusions."

Cassie gave him a look.

He groaned. "Fine. Maybe I do a little."

Cassie smirked. "Good boy."

Harry clenched his teeth. But as much as he wanted to snap at her, he couldn't shake the weight of her words. Couldn't ignore the way she had taken his tangled thoughts and laid them out so neatly, so logically. Like everything made sense.

Cassie slowed her pace beside him. "You know, your dear Headmaster probably already knows about this. Why don't you just ask him?"

Harry looked away.

Cassie hummed, amused. "What's this? The Headmaster and his golden boy having a quarrel?"

Harry scowled. "He doesn't really respond to me much these days. Wont even make eye contact"

"huh?" Cassie raised a brow, intrigued. "That doesn't sound very Albus Dumbledore of him. But at the same time, it does." She paused, mulling it over. "Means he's hiding something. Something big."

Harry didn't reply.

Cassie watched him for a moment before exhaling sharply. "You know what?" she said suddenly, as if taking it as a personal challenge. "I'll figure it out, too. I'll look into cursed scars. Might have something in my books."

Harry frowned, still walking alongside her. It didn't make sense. She was always the villain in his mind—cold, unapproachable. She hated the Order, she despised Sirius. There was no universe where they were not enemies. Why the hell would she help him, of all people?

Cassie caught his stare and rolled her eyes. "Relax, Potter. I'm not doing this for you. I just have a thing against Dumbledore." She shrugged, then added with a casual shrug, "And remember, at the end of the day, you and I—we both hate Voldy." A pause. "Well. Me for now. Haven't met the man yet."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yet?"

Cassie shrugged again "Our ways might be different, Potter. But for now? The goal's kinda the same, you're my way to reach the goal. kinda like a worm for the big fish"

Harry stopped walking. "Sorry—what?"

Cassie turned slightly, smiling as if she hadn't just said something completely - unhinged. "I said," she repeated, "you're kinda my way to reach the goal. Like, bait for Voldy. But same thing—need you alive for both."

Harry gaped at her. "Bait?"

"Relax," Cassie drawled, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm not throwing you in front of him just yet. But let's be real, Potter—you're the Dark Lord's favorite chew toy. If he wants anyone dead, it's you. If I want to know more about him, about how he works, his weaknesses—" She tilted her head, gaze sharp. "Who better to study than his number one obsession?"

Harry let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Fantastic. Glad to know I'm so useful."

"Oh, you are," Cassie said easily. "But don't get too excited. I still think you're a monumental idiot."

Harry shook his head, torn between annoyance and the disturbing realization that, in a twisted way, she made sense.

"You're bloody insane," he muttered.

"Probably," Cassie admitted. "But so is Voldemort. And if you want to win against insanity, you gotta think like it."

Harry didn't know what was more unnerving—that she said it so casually, or that a part of him actually agreed.

The silence stretched between them, the wind picking up slightly as they stepped onto the grounds. Cassie hummed, glancing toward Hagrid's hut.

Harry followed her gaze instinctively, then frowned. Hagrid had been gone for weeks now.

"You know where he is?" he asked.

Cassie mused. "You don't?"

Harry's scowl deepened. "No—wait. You do?"

"Of course I do. Or—" she tilted her head, "I'm 99% sure."

"Where is he, then?" Harry pressed. "Hermione said he had some work for the Order, but—"

Cassie scoffed. "Your dearest headmaster sent him on a death mission."

Harry stiffened. "What?"

"Relax, Potter," she drawled. "He'll be back. It's just Dumbledore being Dumbledore—reckless, manipulative, and selfish." She rolled her eyes.

Harry hesitated, biting back a retort. If he disagreed, she'd shut down completely. If he agreed, he'd be admitting something he wasn't sure he wanted to. Still—he hadn't been told anything about Hagrid's mission. And yet, here was Cassiopeia Black, rattling off information like she had a VIP view to whatever Dumbledore was thinking.

"You still haven't said where he is," he pointed out.

Cassie pulled out her wand and flicked it lazily toward a bush in the distance. A jet of light shot forward, reducing it to cinders.

"As far as I've figured out," she said, "Dumbledore sent him to the giants."

Harry felt his stomach drop. "The—what?"

"Giants, Potter." She blasted another bush, not even bothering to look. "Not half-giants like himself—fully grown, murderous giants. Your dearest headmaster sent him there with, I dunno, a speech on the power of love and unity or something equally useless."

Harry bristled. "It might work, you know."

Cassie let out a sharp laugh. "Do you even know what the Dark Lord can offer them? Endless food. Free rein to rampage through cities. The chance to slaughter wizards and Muggles alike. That's what they want, Potter." She turned to face him, her expression flat, unimpressed.

"So there's no way we could've gotten them on our side?" he asked, frowning.

Cassie shrugged. "I still think we should've sent them to Azkaban. Let them kill off the Death Eaters, take out a few Dementors—weaken them. Then we step in, finish the job, and force the survivors to fight for us. Or I dunno- offer them something more practically-"

Harry stared at her, something uneasy twisting in his gut.

It was—
It was mad. Completely mad.

And yet—
Somewhere in that insanity, there was logic.

Cassie raised a brow at his expression. "You really shouldn't spend too much time around me, Potter. I'm not in the mood to deal with your dearest godfather and headmaster accusing me of corrupting their precious Boy Who Lived."

Harry snapped out of it, shaking his head. "Right. Well... thanks," he muttered, as if the word physically hurt him.

Cassie barely acknowledged it. "Don't mention it. No, seriously. Never tell anyone I helped you—it really messes with my 'I hate you' propaganda."

Harry rolled his eyes and started walking back toward the castle, still processing everything she'd said.

"You know what, Potter?" Cassie called after him.

He turned. "What?"

"I was thinking of starting my own mini-Order. You know, just against Dumbledore." She smirked. "Since he's clearly not telling you anything and I can figure out most of it anyway—why not?"

Harry stared at her, as if waiting for the punchline.

She didn't blink.

With a shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

"I'm serious!" she called. "You can be my first minion!"

********************

LMAO - LIKE EVERYTIME I HAVE READ THE ORDER OF PHOENIX- I WAS LIKE- SOMEONE TELL THIS POOR HARRY SOMETHING-

BRO WAS JUST HAVING TEMPER TANTRUMS- TRYING TO FIGURE ALL THAT MANIPULATIVE SHIT DUMBLY WAS DOING

OOH- I ALSO WANTED TO SHOW HOW LIKE HARRY IS SLOWLY SEEING SENSE IN HER IDEAS-

AS I TOLD- I WAS GONNA KEEP THIS AND THE LAST CHAP AS ONE- BUT I FEEL TWO IS BETTER- GIVES IT MORE STRUCTURE