"Cassie. Stop."

She didn’t look up. “Stop what?”

“Stop trying to make our essays look bad.”

Cassie finally raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at him. “I’m sorry, is my intelligence personally offending you again?”

“Yes,” Theo said, dragging a hand through his hair. “Because no one is going to believe a fifth year randomly decided to reference Transfiguration Theory and Magical Symbolism Through the Centuries. That’s a seventh-year text, Cass. Seventh. Year.”

She shrugged. “It was relevant.”

“You’re sitting on her notes, by the way,” Draco added dryly from the armchair without even lifting his head from his book.

Theo blinked down, then shifted his weight slightly. “Oh. Right.” He didn’t move.

Cassie glanced at him sideways “Didn’t realize your academic self-worth was this fragile, Nott.”

Theo leaned his elbow just a little heavier on the parchment. “Didn’t realize your ego needed a leash.”

Pansy clapped her hands once. “Ooh. He’s flirting back. Someone’s feeling brave tonight.”

Blaise groaned and hurled a cushion at them. “Just snog already and let the rest of us fail in peace!”

“Snog him?” she scoffed, flicking her quill toward Theo. “Please. I’d rather kiss the grindylow swimming around in Snape’s office sink.”

Theo just snorted “Would the grindylow cite vaderveld too?” he murmured, voice

Cassie turned her head, gave him a stare that could've shattered glass. “Move, you’re smudging the ink.”

“ No-you don’t need to write like you’re applying to work at the Department of Mysteries!” he snapped, arms crossing

Cassie didn’t even blink. “It’s not my fault you think ‘coherence’ is optional.”

“I’m saying you referenced a unrelated seventh-year journal article for a fifth-year assignment, Cass.”

“I’m saying you’re welcome.”

Blaise dropped his head to the table. “Cass, please. Stop making our essays look like a blind troll wrote them. Some of us have reputations to maintain. Mediocre ones. Proudly.”

Cassie tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Raise your standards, Zabini.”

“Oh, I did,” Blaise deadpanned. “Then you dated him.” He pointed at Theo.

Theo mock-choked. “Wow.”

Pansy set her quill down "I’m just questioning why I sit near either of you during study hours.”

Draco looked up from his Arithmancy chart “I’ll give you ten Galleons to shut up for five minutes.”

Pansy blinked. “Dray, we’re all rich. That’s not even a bribe.”

“I don’t care. I just want to finish this before tomorrow,” he muttered. “We’re going to Hogsmeade in the morning. Some of us don’t want to do essay panic at dawn.”

Blaise gasped "my Merlin—Hogsmeade! I forgot. I have to get that new black velvet robe at Twilfitt & Tatting’s. You know, the one with the silver lining and that sinful high collar—”

“No one cares,” Pansy said flatly.

“I care,” Blaise said, scandalized. “It’s a look. It’s a moment. I’m not walking around in last month’s robes like some common Gryffindor.”

Draco muttered, “This is what I get for trying to do homework with all of you.”

“You were the one who said, ‘let’s study together in the common room,’” Theo reminded him.

“I was high on tea and false hope.”

Cassie leaned across the table, peering at Theo’s essay. “Did you actually quote Gamp’s Laws?”

“Yes,” he said defensively. “What of it?”

“You underlined it twice. In green ink.”

“It’s a Slytherin-themed essay,” he said without a trace of irony.

Cassie blinked. “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

“You literally charmed your title to shimmer.”

“McGonagall loves presentation!”

Blaise looked at Cassie deadpanned “YOU BOTH ARE derailing our curve,” Blaise  “McGonagall’s going to expect all of us to write like magical academics on espresso now!”

“Speak for yourself,” Draco muttered without looking up. “I’m just copying half of hers and calling it ambition.”

“I’m honoured,” Cassie drawled

“You shouldn’t be,” Draco said, flipping his own scroll lazily. “It’s out of sheer laziness.”

Theo turned to Blaise, who was now balancing a quill on his lip. “If you’d like, I can dumb mine down to your level. Maybe throw in a colouring charm? Doodle a unicorn in the margins?”

Blaise let the quill fall. “I would have finished ages ago if I didn't have to listen to your Domestic disputes the whole damn time”

Pansy made a thoughtful sound. “Is it just me, or have they been fighting more since they got together?”

“They’ve been fighting the same,” Draco said flatly. “We’ve just finally got the context to call it what it is.”

“Foreplay disguised as fighting over essays?” Blaise suggested

Cassie and Theo, in sync turned and glared at him.

. “Better than whatever you call lying on the floor like a fainting damsel.” Theo shot

Cassie looked back down at her scroll. “Fitting, honestly. Blaise is the fainting type.”

“I will not be attacked in my own common room.”

“You will,” Pansy said tiredly. “And you’ll survive it. Probably.”

Theo tilted his head toward Cassie with a lazy grin. “You hear that, love? Survival rates are good.”

"Seriously, love?" Cassie scrunched her nose. "What's next, giving me roses?" She gagged dramatically.

"Isn’t that how normal couples are?" Draco piped up, not looking up from his book.

"In what world do you think either one of them are normal?" Pansy snorted, tossing her quill down rolling up her finished parchementt

"Touché," Draco conceded

Cassie rolled her eyes  at the discussion yanking her scroll further away from theo's elbow. “You’re the one who’s going to need survival skills if you smudge my ink again."

"Romance really is dead." Blaise sighed dramatically sealing his scribbled parchment

Pansy threw her hands up. “Honestly? I’m just gonna go sleep. The tension in this room— I can't. It's suffocating."

Cassie didn’t even glance up. “Stair’s that way, Parkinson.”

“I’m serious,” Pansy said, already scooping up her things. “It’s either nap or third-wheel-induced death.”

"You act like you weren’t already used to being a bystander to Cassie terrorizing Theo," Blaise drawled, but packing his own things all the same

"I am," Pansy said airily, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "But now she’s legally allowed to kiss him in the middle of it, and I just— no."

"She won't," Theo said confidently, smirking sideways at Cassie. "She's all bark, no bite."

Cassie lifted her chin,  “You sure you want to test that theory, Nott?"

Blaise made a choked sound like he was witnessing a duel about to happen.
Theo, the absolute menace he was, just leaned even closer, voice dropping  “Maybe."

"Merlin, get a room," Draco muttered under his breath, flipping a page aggressively.

Cassie smirked wickedly, gathering her books with a theatrical snap. "Don't tempt me, Malfoy."

Pansy gagged but looked over at Cassie still hunched over her scroll. “You comin’?”

Cassie nodded immediately  pretending to scribble something down even though her parchment was already perfectly finished.

"Finishing this up," she mumbled.

Pansy raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, just sighed and climbed to her feet.

"You’ve been done for ten minutes, Cass," Blaise pointed out smugly,  "What exactly are you finishing?"

Cassie didn't even glance up. "Mind your business, Zabini."

Draco rolled his eyes, getting up and slinging his bag over one shoulder. "Let’s leave before they start snogging and traumatize the rest of us."

"You'd be lucky," Theo said blandly, still lounging against the table. "I didn’t complain when you practically had your tongue down Lyra’s throat every other study session in fourth year."

Draco scowled. "Unnecessary."

He made a big show of grabbing his books and stomping away.

Cassie blinked after him, incredulous. "He did not just stomp."

From halfway up the stairs, Draco turned and stuck his tongue out at them before disappearing toward the dormitory.

Cassie shook her head in disbelief, gathering her things — but before she could get far, Theo reached out lazily, hooked his finger into her bag strap, and tugged her back a step.

She stumbled slightly, whipping around. "What?"

Theo gave her a lazy smirk. "Come on. I’ve seen couples. They do goodnight kisses."

Cassie stared at him like he’d grown another head.
"You want me to sashay like Astoria, bat my lashes, and give you some delicate little peck on the cheek? Is that what this is?"

Theo wrinkled his nose like he was personally offended. "Merlin, no. Why is it always Astoria?"

Cassie leaned in, smirking. "Because she’s everywhere. You breathe too loud and she appears like some cursed Greengrass poltergeist."

Theo huffed a laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "Are you jealous, Miss Black?"

Cassie smiled sweetly  "Oh, you wish, Nott."

Theo gave her his best kicked-puppy look. "So no goodnight kiss?"

Cassie slung her bag higher up her shoulder, deadpan.
"Goodnight kisses? Where do you even get that from Mr Nott? With us, it's more like goodnight scars."

Theo clutched his chest in mock heartbreak. "Romantic."

Cassie arched a brow, clearly done with this entire conversation. "If you don't move, I'm going to give you a scar to remember me by."

Theo grinned, completely unfazed. "Still counts as affection."

Cassie made a noise halfway between a laugh and a threat, then turned sharply on her heel.
"Goodnight, Theo," she threw over her shoulder.

Theo watched her go, hands in his pockets, grinning like a man with a death wish.

"Definitely scars," he muttered

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

The next morning, the common room was a disaster zone.

"Merlin’s tits, Blaise, we’re going to miss the bloody carriage!" Draco barked from where he was pacing near the fireplace, throwing murderous glances toward the stairs.

"It's called fashion, Malfoy. You wouldn't understand," Blaise called back coolly, still invisible somewhere upstairs.

Meanwhile, Theo was standing in front of the common room mirror, fussing with his hair in a way that could only be described as criminal.

"You’re fine," Draco snapped. "You look the same as you did twenty minutes ago."

Theo ignored him, adjusting a strand like his life depended on it. "You don’t rush art, Draco."

Pansy was the first to descend the girls’ staircase, tossing her hair over her shoulder and adjusting her scarf .She gave the scene one glance and snorted.

"Oh, for Salazar’s sake," she muttered, before her gaze flicked past the boys — and then she actually stopped.

Cassie followed a few steps behind, tugging on her gloves, dressed in a deep forest-green coat, cinched neatly at the waist with silver buttons gleaming against the fabric, black boots and a slytherin scarf they all usually sported

And Theo...
Forest-green sweater under a black jacket, silver detailing at the cuffs, black boots, and a Slytherin-green scarf looped lazily around his neck.

It was absurd.
It was obnoxious.
It was matching.

"Well, well, well," she said, crossing her arms. "That’s why you wanted to stay back last night, Cass. Strategizing outfits."

Cassie immediately made a face  "You're delusional," she said sharply. "I barely coordinated myself out of bed this morning."

Theo finally turned from the mirror, caught sight of Cassie, and froze just long enough for Pansy's grin to grow feral.

"Look at you two,"

Cassie yanked her gloves tighter with unnecessary aggression. "If this was planned," she snapped, "I would’ve set myself on fire first."

Theo, completely unfazed, slid his hands into his pockets and tilted his head lazily. "Please. If anyone's copying anyone, it’s clearly Cassie copying me."

"In your dreams, Nott," Cassie said, shooting him a withering glance. "Your entire wardrobe is three shirts and two existential crises in different shadss of green"

"You planned this. This is why you wanted to stay back in the common room last night." pansy crooned

Cassie snorted loudly. "Yes, Pans, because color-coordinating with Theodore Nott is my life's ambition."

Draco grabbed his cloak. "If you two are done acting like a bad romance novel, we’ve got butterbeer to find."

At that moment, Blaise finally descended, fully decked out in a black tailored coat and a scarf that probably cost more than Weasley whole wardrobe

"Sorry, darlings," Blaise said airily, not sorry at all. "Perfection takes time."

Draco pointed at him "You spent forty minutes on your socks, Zabini!"

"They have dragons embroidered on them," Blaise said defensively. "You don't rush greatness."

Theo leaned closer to Cassie, voice low enough only she could hear. "If we kill him and hide the body in the Forbidden Forest, do you think anyone would notice?"

Cassie smirked. "Notice? They'd probably send us thank you letters."

Pansy clapped her hands once. "Alright, children. Off we go before you two start matching murder plots too."

"Matching’s already their specialty, apparently," Blaise snickered.

Cassie just tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders, muttering under her breath, "Merlin, kill me now," as they all filed out of the common room into the crisp Hogsmeade morning.

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

Draco and Blaise spent the first ten minutes arguing about the best route ("Shortcut past the greenhouses, you twat." "You mean the one where you slipped and died last winter?"), while Theo kept nudging Cassie every few steps for no reason except to be an absolute menace.

Cassie swore the cold was making everyone louder—and somehow more observant.

They hadn’t been walking five minutes before someone called out, “Matching coats, huh? Cute.”

Cassie turned so fast Theo nearly got whiplash from the scarf swipe. “Who said that?!”

“Literally everyone who’s walked past us,” Pansy muttered "trsagic"

Theo leaned closer to Cassie, feigning offense. “Tragic? I thought we were winter fashion icons.”

“You’re about two matching scarves away from couple’s therapy,” Blaise shot breaking from his unnecessary argument with Draco about which ink is better

Cassie glared at all of them. "Can we just get to Honeydukes before I hex someone into a display window?”

Draco, very unfazed, snorted. “Now that’s the spirit of Hogsmeade.”

Pansy trotting after them with a resigned sigh fifth weeling the whole group

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

The group rushed out of honey dukes as soon as they bought have the shop because Blaise claimed he had an emerency

Madam Malkin’s

Madam Malkin’s wasn’t prepared for Blaise Zabini.

None of them were.

They’d only stopped by because Blaise had insisted—with the kind of seriousness one reserves for life-threatening emergencies—that he absolutely had to check out the new winter robe collection.

“I heard they just restocked the midnight velvet set,” he said, pushing the dooor. “Limited edition. Gone in three days. I need it.”

Cassie dragged her feet behind him, scarf half-dangling off her shoulder. “You also said that about the storm-grey one last week. Which is currently lying across your chair. Unworn.”

“That was a different aesthetic,” Blaise sniffed. “More... ‘brooding heir in mourning’. This one’s ‘mysterious, yet festive’.”

Draco groaned. “You're not planning a winter gala.  It’s 3 degrees outside. You’re going to freeze your stylish arse off.”

Theo muttered under his breath, examining a price tag, “At this point, just buy a damn cloak and embroider ‘Blaise’ in rhinestones on the back. Save yourself the speeches.”

Blaise didn’t even flinch. “Tempting. Very tempting.”

Pansy slumped dramatically onto the nearest settee. “I’m going to die in this robe shop. Tell my mother I died fabulously.”

Cassie leaned beside her. “Tell her she died waiting for Blaise to pick between 'Noir Midnight' and 'Charcoal Eclipse'.”

Theo leaned in toward Cassie, voice low and dry. “He’s been holding both for fifteen minutes now.”

“I know,” she whispered back, eyes dead. “We’re trapped.”

Blaise, still completely ignoring the mutiny behind him, finally made a noise like he'd just solved a personal crisis.

“This one,” he declared, holding up a robe dramatically. “This is the robe.”

There was a collective exhale.

Draco clapped once, sarcastically. “Fantastic. Get it. We can finally leave.”

“You’re all so impatient,” Blaise said, sweeping past them toward the counter. “This is fashion. You can’t rush art.”

Cassie muttered, “You can rush Blaise. Just dangle a mirror in front of him and whisper ‘limited edition’.”

Theo grinned. “You say that like it didn’t work last time.”

Outside, as they trudged back into the cold with Blaise floating on cloud nine and the rest visibly aged by two decades, Pansy groaned, “Next time we leave him behind.”

Blaise, now wrapped in his new robe, twirled in the snow. “You’re welcome for the joy of witnessing my glow up.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re glowing because you dragged us into a heated store for an hour and made us suffer.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Malfoy"

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

As they stepped out of Madam Malkin’s, Theo barely paused to check if everyone was behind him before announcing, “Right. Quality Quidditch Supplies next.”

Pansy let out an audible groan. “Can’t we skip the broomstick shrine today?”

“We’ve already been to three clothing stores,” Theo shot back, not even looking over his shoulder.

“And you walked out of all three saying ‘they don’t get my aesthetic’,” Blaise drawled, inspecting his reflection in a shop window as he adjusted the fall of his scarf.

Cassie crossed her arms. “Do you need new gloves? Or are you just going to stand there for twenty minutes holding three identical pairs and pretending they’re different?”

Theo turned with dramatic offense. “Excuse me for valuing quality.”

Inside Quality Quidditch Supplies, the girls collectively sighed while Theo beelined straight for the gear section, muttering something about padding density.

Pansy had barely set foot inside the shop before she whipped around and slammed her palm into Cassie’s back with the force of a Bludger.

"Go," she hissed gleefully, physically shoving Cassie toward the glove aisle.

Cassie stumbled, shot her a venomous glare, but didn’t argue. Mostly because Theo was there — standing like an idiot in front of a towering wall of Quidditch gloves, squinting at them like they were different. His brows furrowed in deep concentration, thumb brushing over the stitching like he was deciphering some kind of rune before tossing both of them away looking at the topmost shelf

He reached up on his toes—awkward but stupidly tall—and stretched for a pair on the top shelf.

Without thinking, Cassie gave a long, low whistle.

Theo froze mid-reach. Slowly, he turned his head, smirking without looking back.

"That's wildly inappropriate, miss," he said, voice dripping with faux-scandal.
"Do you know I’m taken?"

Cassie leaned lazily against a broom rack,
"Yeah? I don’t see her

Theo chuckled low under his breath, pulling down the gloves he'd been reaching for.
"Scandalous behavior, Black. Merlin would weep."

Blaise, passing by, caught about two seconds of the exchange before dramatically flinging his arms up.

"Oh, for the love of—I just recovered from your last 'moment' at breakfast," Blaise said "Should have never gotten you both together"

Cassie ignored him, sauntering closer. She grabbed the ugliest, bulkiest pair of gloves off a rack—monstrous brown leather things—and shoved them into Theo’s chest.

"Here," she said dryly. "Massive. Punch-proof. Perfect for your fragile soul."

Theo caught them with one hand, brow raised.

"Cass," he deadpanned, "these are Keeper gloves."

"You hit things for a living," she said, folding her arms. "Close enough."

Theo slid one hand into the oversized glove, flexing his fingers with an exaggerated grimace.

This glove is bigger than your head," Theo said, holding it up next to her face

"Exactly. Perfect to punch someone with," Cassie said, crossing her arms like she’d just won an argument with granger.

Theo huffed a laugh — the real kind, the one that slipped out before he could stop it — shoulders shaking for half a second before he coughed .He glanced down at the absurd glove and then to the sleeker pair he’d originally picked.

"Okay, but see — this one has reinforced padding along the knuckles, which is objectively good for Bludger control," he said, holding up the first pair. "Whereas this monstrosity is basically a wearable leather tent."

"Reinforced padding is for cowards."

Theo ignored her, flipping the glove over. "No wrist flexibility. And look at this grip. It's like someone cursed it for maximum mediocrity."

"You could still murder someone with it, though," Cassie offered.

"I'm not buying gloves for murder, Cass."

"Not with that attitude."

Theo gave her a long, narrowed look," I'm getting this " He shoved the sleeker pair into the crook of his arm  tossing away the monstrosity of a glove He’d barely taken three steps toward the counter when Draco materialized  a polished black Beater’s bat in hand — clearly obnoxiously expensive.

"I'm just saying,” Draco said, twirling the bat "if you're upgrading your gloves, might as well not pair them with that tragic excuse of a bat you've been lugging around since third year.”

Theo blinked. “Why are you like this?”

“I have taste,” Draco said simply.

“That’s not taste,” Cassie chimed in, arms crossed as she trailed behind, “that’s retail therapy with a superiority complex.”

Draco turned to her, unfazed. “Says the girl who owns seven identical black cloaks.”

“They’re not identical,” she said coolly. “One of them has silver stitching.”

Theo deadpanned, “Incredible. Riveting detail. Now if you two are done, I’m going to buy gloves. I already have a bat”

Listen,” draco said slowly, like he was explaining something to a child, “you already bruised your wrist last week, that bat you’re using is basically a stick, and this one—” he turned it slightly, letting the light gleam off the spiral inlay, “has charm-absorbing grip. Plus, it looks badass.”

“It costs twenty five galleons, Draco.” Theo crossed his arms.

“Exactly. Worth it.”

“I’m not spending that much on a bat I’m going to beat Bludgers with. It’s literally in the job description.”

Cassie sighed loudly. “He won’t get it, Dray.” She waved a lazy hand. “Just pick the best one, take it to the counter, I’ll get it for him.”

Theo turned around so fast he nearly knocked over a mannequin in full Quidditch gear.

“Cass—”

“Cass nothing,” she cut in, stepping forward "We all know you’re a stubborn little mule and you hate being spoiled, but let’s not pretend we’re not aware I’m a Black—rolling in money, jewels, scandal, and general misfortune. Doesn’t mean we can’t spend it when it counts.”

Theo folded his arms, chin tilted, voice stubbornly low. “Cass, I’m a Nott too, you know. I’m also rolling in galleons—”
He paused, gesturing vaguely around them. “—doesn’t mean we need to spend it like Gringotts is going out of business.”

Cassie blinked at him. Then slowly turned to the others, “Oh no,” she said in a flat voice, hand to her heart, “he said the thing. The classic ‘just because we can doesn’t mean we should.’”

Draco grinned.

"Get the bloody bat, Nott.”

A beat.

“Or I swear I’ll buy every single one in this store and give them to Blaise just to spite you.”

Theo gave her a look that was 40% fond, 40% annoyed, and 20% something else entirely, dropping the gloves and bat onto the counter with a sigh that suggested he was emotionally wounded by how much Cass had bullied him into it.

Cassie stood beside him, arms folded, watching smugly as the shopkeeper bagged the items.

“You know,” Theo muttered, side-eyeing her, “this relationship is oddly retail-driven.”

“You say that like it’s a problem,”

As they walked out, the wind hit them with a crisp bite, and Theo adjusted the three bags in his grip. Cassie didn’t even hesitate—she plucked the bulkiest one out of his arms

“Let me carry it for you, princess,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear, .

Theo coughed Nightingale back a laugh, blinking at her. “Did you just—?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Cassie looked straight ahead, jaw set, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the way her ears had turned pink.

Theo, of course, noticed immediately. And grinned. "You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“It’s cold.”

“You’re pink.”

Cassie looked at him, deadpan. “Would you like to be pink too?”

Theo chuckled, eyes gleaming. Then—casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world—he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss just behind her ear. The others were too far ahead now, Draco already bickering with Blaise about whether to go at  Sleaksy’s or zonkos

It was just for her.

And it worked. Her shoulders stiffened for half a second—just half a second—before she forcibly relaxed them and walked faster, tossing her hair back like she didn’t feel that spark in her spine.

Theo jogged a few steps to catch up, smirking. “Your strut’s faster when you’re flustered.”

Cassie didn’t answer. But her grip on the bag tightened a little. "As if you could ever make me flustered Nott"

They walked in silence for a beat, the sound of the others’ voices drifting....Theo nudged her lightly with his elbow, “So... weren’t you supposed to meet Potter?”

Cassie didn’t break stride, but her jaw ticked. Just a flicker.

“Half an hour ago,” she muttered. “Think I should go?”

Theo pulled a face. “You already know how I feel about Potter,” he said, grimacing like the name itself tasted bitter. “But… yeah. You should go. If you want to.”

Cassie was quiet for a beat.

Theo caught the shift in her expression. Calm on the outside—but her fingers curled slightly tighter around the bag before handing it back to him

“Want me to come along?” he asked "You know I’d be more relieved if I were there.”

Cassie gave him a quick glance. “No. You distract them here.”

A pause.

“They obviously can’t know where I’m going.”

Theo frowned.

“Just tell them I went to that weird cursed shop Pansy hates—the one with the severed mannequin heads in the window.”

And just like that, she slipped between two shops, vanishing with that terrifying grace she had—like a shadow  No sound, no backward glance.

Theo stood still for a second, his eyes tracing the spot where she’d disappeared. Then his brows drew together, just slightly.

“Oi! Theo!” Blaise called from ahead. “Where’s the princess?”

Theo blinked once, straightened, and spun around, forcing an easy shrug onto his face. “She ditched us. Said she’s going to that freakshow shop Pansy despises—the one with the cursed heads and probably a portal to hell in the back.”

Pansy groaned. “Ugh. Disgusting.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course she would.”

Theo exhaled through his nose, the tension smoothing from his shoulders as the group moved on, rebooting immediately.

But as they walked, Theo’s eyes flicked—once, twice—back toward that alleyway.

Cassie could handle herself. She always could.

Didn’t mean he liked watching her disappear. Especially not when Potter was involved.

He walked a little slower than the others after that, his grip tight on the stupid shopping bag.

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

Cassie stood across the street from the Hog’s Head, arms crossed, lips twisted in visible distaste.

This was the place?

She stared at the crooked sign swinging above the door like it might fall off any second. Half the windows were fogged. The other half looked like they'd been wiped down with a dead rat. The smell of something burnt wafted from the chimney—

“such a gullible meeting place,” she muttered, brushing invisible dust off her coat. “So easy to overhear. Or hex. Or both.”

Hermione was mid-sentence—“…Obviously, they’re in complete denial about the return of You-Know-Who—”

Cassie sighed Let's get this over with
The door creaked open.

And the air shifted.

Black stepped inside, dragging the cold, misty air with her.
For a second, it was like the whole tavern leaned back from her — .The heavy hood of her cloak slid back slightly, revealing dark, curling hair and uninterested expression Half the room instinctively turned to Harry, as if looking for confirmation that this wasn’t a trap, Someone even knocked over a mug in panic, the clatter loud in the quiet.

Cassiopeia Black stood at the entrance of the Hogshead
Not moving.
Not smiling.
Her eyes scanned the crowd with a look like she was bored by them.

She didn’t bother acknowledging anyone until she spotted Harry — and then, very slowly, arched an eyebrow like this was the best she could do.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly “Yeah—it’s fine. I called her.”

That was when it started.

“Are you mad, Potter?!” Ernie Macmillan had gone pale, already halfway out of his seat. “She’s literally—”

He stopped.
Cassie was staring at him.
directly at him.
unblinking.

He swallowed and sat back down like someone had pressed a wand on his neck

Fred snorted from the back, “What’s wrong, Macmillan? Too much of a pussy to finish that sentence?”

“You want me to?” George added, elbowing his twin. “I’ll do it. I got time.”

“I’ll say it,” Fred continued cheerfully. “She’s evil, Harry. She’s literally evil. Like—actual evil.

“She’s on a watchlist,” someone muttered near the bar.

“She set the dungeons on fire in second year!” piped up a younger Hufflepuff.

“She tried to duel a professor—”

“she's a Black—they’re all psychotic.”

“I heard she keeps a cursed dagger under her pillow,” came a voice from somewhere near the back.

“Bet she killed that prefect she got in a feud with last year and no one noticed,” Zacharias Smith sneered from a bench near the window, arms crossed. “Where’s that boyfriend cum bodyguard of yours, Black? Ditched you for someone with a soul?”

That did it.

A few gasps, a cough. Even hermione—raised her brows in warning.

Cassie didn’t flinch.
Didn’t respond.
Didn’t move

She just kept standing there, spine straight, gloved fingers curled in a fist The silence she gave Zacharias was worse than any curse.

It was the kind of silence that made your chest tighten and your brain whisper, run.

Zacharias shrunk back an inch. Maybe two.

“I’m not afraid of her,” he added weakly.

"Well you should be. Smith isn't it? ” Cassie drawled. “If you think I’m terrifying without a reason, imagine what I’d be like with one.”

Zacharias blanched.

Someone at the back actually whimpered.

“See, Harry?” someone else muttered under their breath. “She is just—”

“She’s also the best duelist in our year" Harry shot

That shut them up.

Cassie blinked once. Then turned to Harry  “If this is the part where I’m supposed to prove I’m a good person,” she said, “I’m going to need you to lower your expectations. Immediately.”

Harry exhaled, stepping forward to rein in the crowd. “Look. You’re all here because you think something’s wrong, right? That the school’s not teaching you enough? That the Ministry’s full of it?”

Silence.

“So maybe stop worrying about whether or not Black plays nice, and start asking yourselves if you’d rather have her with us—or against us.”

That did something. A few people shifted uncomfortably. Others glanced around like they were suddenly realizing just how badly this meeting could’ve gone if Cassiopeia had wanted to disband this thing..

Cassie tilted her head. “Are we done?” she asked flatly. “With the moral outrage part?”

Dean raised a hand sheepishly. “Just—like—real quick. Are you gonna stab anyone?”

Cassiopeia turned her head slowly. Locking eyes with him like a cat sizing up a bird.

“Depends,” she said. “If you’re an absolute nincompoop—yes.”

A few people laughed. Nervously.

From the back, someone muttered, “She’s not joking.”

Neville squeaked. Cassie glanced over at him. Her gaze softened slightly. Not enough to be warm—but enough to not be lethal. She stretched her neck with a quiet crack.

“Continue,” she said, flatly.

Hermione, professional as ever, picked up like nothing had happened. “Right—um—we think the Ministry’s spreading this idea that Dumbledore’s building a student army, and… well, we want to be ready. Trained. Together.”

Cassie barely listened. She already knew all this. The meeting, the speeches, it was inefficient. Disorganised. Most of them wouldn’t last three seconds in a proper duel. Her eyes drifted lazily through the bar—until they landed on a familiar gruff silhouette.

Aberforth. Watching her from across the room with a narrowed stare and a full pint.

Cassie didn’t hesitate. She walked over.

“Black,” he greeted with a grunt as she approached.

Dumbledore,” she replied. It was somehow both an insult and a greeting.
Aberforth winced.

“A firewhiskey,” she muttered. He turned and began to prepare it, not even pretending to ask if she was of age.

“You’re not gonna run off and tell your brother about this little meeting, are you?” she added with a dry scoff.

He made a face. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ve got better things to do than tattle to my great brother just---” His eyes flicked past her toward Harry. “Quick question. How the fuck has that kid survived this long?”

Cassie shrugged. “Luck. Cosmic, stupid luck. He’s so predictable it physically hurts me.”

Aberforth handed her a glass.  She tossed a galleon on the counter. “Keep the change.”

As she turned, her gaze caught on a witch in the farthest, darkest corner of the bar. Shrouded in a thick black veil that trailed to her toes. Watching. Twitchy. The moment Cassie met her gaze, the woman looked away sharply.

Cassie filed it away. Later. She strolled back to the group.

“Well, the other thing to decide is where we’re going to meet…” Harry was saying.

Everyone paused.

“Library?” Katie Bell offered hopefully.

Cassie snorted. “Don’t be dumb.”

Katie winced.

“Can you imagine Madam Pince letting us duel in the library?” Cassie went on. “That woman is two screams away from turning herself to a banshee.”

“So where then?” Michael Corner asked.

“I know a place,” Cassie said smoothly

“You’re gonna tell us, right?” Dean said warily.

“Eventually,” she said.

And just like that, the room fell silent.

No more suggestions. No arguments.

That was it. The end of the discussion.
*************

Cassie turned and walked away, heading toward the darkened corner where a veiled witch had been sitting quietly all this time—too quietly clearly looking suspiciously observant of the whole meeting. The woman visibly flinched as Cassie passed, her shoulders jerking as though she expected to be hexed on the spot.

Behind her, the group slowly began to disperse. Hermione stepped up, passing around a parchment list of names—those willing to join. There were murmurs, nervous laughter, a few reluctant scratches of quills on parchment.

Eventually, only three remained at the center table—the golden trio.

Ron leaned in, whispering something to Hermione that made her roll her eyes.

Hermione took a breath and approached Cassie, who was now seated with firewhiskey-like on the table beside her.She held out the list.

Cassie raised an eyebrow. “You want me to sign it?”

Hermione hesitated. “Yes. If—if you’re in.”

Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re doubting my loyalty?”

Hermione instantly shook her head, but turned to Harry like help me please.

Harry just gave a shrug, too tired to play the moral compass

“leave it mione. If she snitches,” Harry said dryly, “she gets in trouble first.”

“Smartest thing you've said all year, Potter.”

Hermione tucked the parchment back, and the trio slipped out, leaving Cassie alone.

Or so she thought.

The veiled witch in the corner was gathering her things, twitchy and unsteady. There was something off about her—Cassie had noticed it the moment she walked in. A smell—mildew, pipe smoke, bad cologne. Familiar.

She didn't say anything
She just watched.

The veiled witch fumbled with her satchel, shoulders hunched, one gloved hand shakily pulling her cloak tighter. But it was the other hand—the one that slipped out beneath the table

Pale. Scarred. And unmistakably male.
Thick fingers, calloused knuckles.

And around the wrist—

A watch. Bronze. Old. The glass scratched, chipped in the corner. The same kind that used to tick relentlessly atop the marble mantle in Grimmauld Place.

No.
Not the same kind.
The same watch.

Her eyes darkened, lips parting slightly in realization.

The veiled figure froze—like he felt it

Cassie stood. Slowly. Casually.

“Well, madam,” she said, strolling over, “where are you off to in such a hurry?”

The witch froze. but didn't reply let a grunt. very manly

“You should’ve left the heirlooms out of it.”

The witch jerked back a step, nearly tripping over her own cloak.

Cassie moved faster ,she stuck her boot out. The woman stumbled, crashing against the table. The veil slipped.

Cassie just crossed her arms.

Aberforth’s shout cut through the rising murmurs of the Hog’s Head  “You!” His face twisted in outrage as he stormed over. “I thought I banned you, you filthy little thief!”

“Well, well,” she said sweetly, “if it isn’t our favorite knockoff trenchcoat.”

Mundungus Fletcher blinked up at her, groaning. “Alright, alright! Merlin’s saggy pants, youre intense.”

Cassie scoffed

“Bloody hell, woman—why are all the Blacks like this?”

Cassie smiled. “You were watching us?”

“No! I was—I was just... doing... things.”

“Illegal things?” she prompted.

“...Possibly,” he mumbled.

Cassie’s expression didn’t change, eyes narowed

“You’re spying for the Order, right?”

He scratched his scruffy beard, eyes darting around. “I mean… well, yeah.”

Cassie rolled her eyes so hard it looked like it physically pained her. “Of course you are. Dumbledore’s still obsessing over Potter while the world burns.” She said it flatly, like she wasn’t surprised in the slightest. “Real threats? Actual things happening? Nah—let’s just trail the Chosen One”

Mundungus fidgeted, clearly unsure whether he was allowed to laugh or if it was too dangerous.

He made a move to scurry off—like some crooked-legged rat on a bad day—but Cassie raised a hand lazily and stepped into his path.

“Wait.”

He froze. One look at her face and he was regretting everything.

“I don’t give two shits if you tell Sirius about this whole… organization,” she said, waving vaguely at the room

Mundungus let out a relieved sigh, nodding. “Right, yeah, of course—good—brilliant.”

“But.”

“If—in any way—you mention that I’m involved?”

She smiled. Amused. Unbothered.

“You won’t see the next sunrise.”

Mundungus’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.

“I—yeah. Got it. Loud and clear. Black. Right. I didn’t even see you. You weren’t here. Didn’t happen. No notes. Sworn to secrecy.”

Cassie reached forward, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder with surgical precision. “Good lad.”

Behind her, Mundungus practically tripped over his own feet trying to get out of the Hog’s Head.

Cassie watched Mundungus vanish out the door like his robes were on fire, then turned back to the bar

Aberforth was wiping a glass with a ratty towel, eyebrow raised, mouth twitching.

He gave a short, amused snort. “Not fond of my brother, are you?”

Cassie picked up the glass, swirled the amber liquid inside, and shot him a look over the rim. “He’s too busy playing chess with corpses to notice half the board’s already on fire.”

Aberforth let out a short bark of a laugh. “You talk like you’ve seen war kid.”

“I talk like I’ve read the signs,” she replied coolly, knocking back the firewhiskey without a flinch. “And your brother’s too damn moralistic to accept when someone’s already lost a piece.”

Aberforth paused mid-wipe, the glass in his hand forgotten. For a moment, he didn’t look like just the gruff old bartender of the Hog’s Head—he looked one soldier sizes up another.Something in the girl—no, the Black girl—set off the old instincts. Not Sirius, not Regulus either. Something calculating.

Farsighted.

Bellatrix, maybe—when she was younger. Before she burned too fast.

Or Barty Crouch Jr., with that unblinking devotion and rage. But this one—Cassiopeia—she didn’t look like she’d die for someone else’s CAUSE. She looked like she’d build her own.

“Merlin help the one who underestimates you,” Aberforth muttered, mostly to himself.

Cassie smirked faintly at that, already halfway to the door,

“Too late for that,” she called over her shoulder.

And then she was gone.

He exhaled through his nose. A long, gruff sound. Not quite a sigh. Not quite defeat.

“Maybe…” he murmured, the words sticking to the back of his throat like dust.

“Maybe she’s the closest thing I’ve seen to him in a long time.”

And he didn’t mean Dumbledore. .

He meant the one who’d walked into a Hogwarts dormitory with a head full of brilliance and a heart full of rot. He meant the boy who used to charm the teachers, top every exam, and stare too long into the dark like he understood it.

He meant You-Know-Who.

Cassiopeia didn’t have Voldemort’s mania. Not yet.

But she had something worse. stillness.

The same kind of stillness you see in wolves just before they kill.

Aberforth let out a low grunt and threw the towel onto the bar. “And Albus thought that one was worth saving too.”

He turned to the shelves behind him, reaching for another bottle with an almost aggressive shake of his head.

“God help the poor sod who thinks he can steer that girl,” he muttered. “She’ll gut him before he blinks.”

******************"

I absolutely hate writing fluff or fillers I can't just seem to find a flow - literally all I can do is build up on the chrecter inter dynamics
the plot plot would start with  DA or Christmas maybe till then I gotta figure what to do with this messy aah couple and my broken laptop - which won't turn on now

if u find mistakes repititions or just weird editing just remember I edited this on 2 different devices it kept telling me to keep one version I might have kept the wrong one