"What the fuck, Pans—I did not snitch, why would I do that?" Blaise practically shouted, waving his arms "I also have detention, remember? With Filch. Something about 'terrorizing romantic morale' and disrespecting government-endorsed pastries."

Pansy scowled, arms folded so tight they looked glued. "Then how else would Umbridge know what happened in Puddifoot's? That place is like a pink fever dream. No one goes there unless they're into emotional masochism."

"She has spies," Blaise said, voice high and dramatic. "Im sure. There are rats. Laced with lace."

Cassie rolled her eyes from where she was slouched across the Slytherin common room couch with a Book in hand "It was totally your fault," she said flatly. "You two stayed behind to watch couples cry."

"That was intentional!" Pansy snapped. "It was the whole point!"

Cassie tilted her head. "I literally told you a prefect was heading your way. You looked me dead in the eye and said, 'let them watch.'"

Theo, perched next to her with one leg slung carelessly over the edge, didn't even look up. "Then you hexed the whipped cream dispenser to scream whenever someone said 'love'"

"It was social commentary," Blaise muttered.

"The cream combusted," Theo added.

"It matched the mood!" Blaise said defensively.

"It had to be you" Pansy scowled "Maybe you thought it'd be a good time to rat before the glitter bomb exploded in your face."

"That was your glitter bomb!"

"STILL"

"I'm just saying," Blaise declared dramatically, l"I'm the one getting detention when it was literally you two who caused the most damage."

Theo didn't even glance up from his book. "Define damage."

Cassie raised a brow. "He means the cupcake."

Blaise pointed at her like she was finally speaking sense. "Yes! Thank you. The bleeding cupcake, Theo. The one that sprouted blood—"

"Not human," Cassie cut in, deadpan. "But go on."

"STILL BLOOD!"

"It was metaphorical," Theo said calmly, turning a page. "For love."

"It was disgusting," Pansy muttered from across the room, still plucking glitter from her hair. "And loud."

"That wasn't my cupcake," Theo said casually, finally looking up with a crooked grin. "That was Cassie's cupid. She charmed it to scream like a banshee."

"YES!" Blaise agreed, outraged. "And somehow that gets nothing, but when I try to charm a cream dispenser it explodes once—once!—and suddenly I'm scrubbing doorknobs with a toothbrush!"

Cassie closed her book, smirking. "You know, I don't remember us getting caught."

"You ran like cowards!" Blaise jabbed a finger at her. "Watched me get arrested!"

"Actions, consequences," Cassie said with a shrug. "Basic cause and effect. Did you miss that lesson in first year?"

"I only did three very non-lethal things! You two lit a table on fire and walked out like it was some kind of royal ball"

"We don't walk," Theo corrected, deadpan. "We glide."

Cassie nodded "If it helps, I would've defended you."

"Really?"

"I was just already halfway through burning a decorative heart off the door with my wand."

"I was busy beheading the cupids strung up outside," Theo added,

Blaise threw his hands in the air. "Unbelievable. I commit a minor dairy-related crime and I'm crucified. You two stage a romantic arson and get applause."

Cassie leaned back. "Timing is everything, darling."

Blaise looked at the time and groaned "Ugh—I have to go. Filch expects a full report at seven."

Cassie raised an eyebrow. "They make you write reports now?"

"Apparently I'm a repeat offender." He stood "Honestly, it's profiling. Where's Draco, anyway? Why's he not here getting roasted with the rest of us?"

"Because he didn't take part in this, remember?" Cassie said flatly.

Theo didn't even look up. "Coward."

He's been weird since Christmas. Barely around." Cassie remarked

"Weird-er," Theo corrected, lazily flipping a page. "I haven't seen him in two days."

"It's not weird," Pansy said, "Apparently Umbridge is starting some psycho cult of goons to enforce her decrees."

Cassie sat up fully now. "Don't tell me Draco's signing up to be part of her little fascist fan club."

"I think he already did."

"Why." Cassie's voice was flat.

Pansy threw up her hands. "I don't know! He left in one of his moods—ranting about Potter releasing some interview. Said the whole school's 'deluded' and 'about to choke on a lie.' I stopped listening ten seconds in."

Cassie blinked. "Interview?"

Theo finally put his book down. "What interview?"

That's when Blaise—who had disappeared mid-rant—stormed back into the common room,

"The bloody Quibbler," he announced. "Potter gave some exclusive to Loony Lovegood's dad. The whole castle's reading it. Hufflepuff hallway looked like a funeral march."

Cassie gave him an unimpessed look"He gave an interview to a conspiracy tabloid?"

"About the Dark Lord being back," Blaise said grimly. "Apparently he cried. There's a sketch of him crying. Done by Lovegood."

Theo blinked. "The crying sketch is... accurate?"

"No idea. There's also a centaur in a tutu and a recipe for invisible pudding."

"What's in it?" Cassie asked immedietly

"Dunno. It's invisible."

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

Blaise gave her his signature cheeky grin, already halfway to the exit. "Ill get a copy for you . Read it yourself, darling. It's your favorite genre." He wiggled his fingers in a mock wave and disappeared through the common room arch.

Blaise had barely cleared the common room when the door creaked open again.

Enter: Draco Malfoy. Smug. Buttoned. Gleaming. And wearing a shiny silver Inquisitorial Squad badge like it was pinned straight onto his ego.

Cassie didn't look up immediately. But the temperature in the room dropped.

Pansy glanced over, stiffened. "Oh."

Draco walked in like he'd just been named the new Headmaster.

"The best thing that's happened to this school," he said with a grin, "is finally in charge. Took long enough."

Cassie looked up. Took in the badge. Blinked once. Twice.

"Oh," she said, voice flat. "You're serious."

Theo didn't move. Just shifted his eyes slowly between them like a man who'd been here before and knew exactly where this was heading.

"I'm on the Squad," Draco said proudly. "Umbridge hand-picked me."

"How romantic," Cassie deadpanned. "Did she give you a collar too?"

Draco's smile slipped. "She thinks I have leadership potential."

"She also thinks blood quills are a reasonable teaching tool," Cassie said sweetly. "But go on, king."

Pansy let out a soft, nervous laugh. "Haha, okay... chill, maybe not—"

"You could stand to be a bit more respectful," Draco snapped. "She's in charge now. This school finally has order."

Cassie tilted her head. "Respectful? Cousin, you always did love rules—as long as they let you bark the orders."

Draco flushed. "It's more than that. She's giving me real power. Influence."

"She's making you a lapdog and giving you a badge that says, 'I get off on detentions,'" Cassie said. "And you're wearing it like it's a fucking Medal of Honor."

"I'm just saying you should think about getting on her good side," he said, voice sharp. "I could get you out of things."

That made Cassie laugh.

"Are you implying," she said, dangerously calm, "that I need protection from that pink, Ministry-infected, blood-quilling fucking whore?"

Draco flinched. Actually flinched.

Theo said absolutely nothing.

Because there was no universe in which he was stepping into that.

"Cass—" Pansy tried, voice rising.

"Not today, Parkinson," Cassie said sharply.

Theo cleared his throat. "Maybe we can—"

"Stay out of it, Nott."

Theo sat back, slow and wise. "Yes, boss."

Draco's smirk was gone now. His voice turned defensive. "I'm just saying—you're always getting into shit. I could get you out of things if you didn't make yourself a fucking target."

"Oh, could you?" Cassie stepped closer, voice dipped in venom. "You and your cute little squad of fascist toddlers?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I'm trying to help you. You get into fights. You scare half the school. You're going to end up expelled or worse—"

"I can handle myself."

"Can you?" Draco snapped. "You're always a second away from losing it."

"And you're always a second away from selling out whoever's closest. How very Ministry of you."

"That's not fair—"

"You're right," she snapped. "It's generous. You think you're safe in your little badge and patrol cloak? Wait until she doesn't need you anymore."

"She's still in charge," he repeated stiffly.

"She shouldn't be in charge of a fruit bowl. You think just because she handed you a pin and smiled at you like a warped little auntie that you suddenly matter?"

"She's giving me authority—"

"She's giving you permission to grovel in public."

Pansy tried again, louder this time. "You guys, this is escalating really fast—"

"You're ridiculous," Draco shot.

"And you're spineless," Cassie spat.

That one did it.

The silence that followed was long. Ugly.

Draco just... stood there.

Red to the roots. Jaw tight. Ears blotchy.

Cassie, calm as hell, turned back around without another glance. Like the conversation was over. She dropped back in her chair, flipped open her book, and started reading like she hadn't just destroyed him.

Theo watched her. Blinked once. Then turned the page of his own book, casual as ever.

Pansy, sitting in the fallout, blinked, then groaned. "Stop being children, both of you."

Draco was already moving toward the dorm stairs, boots loud on the stone.

"Maybe I will," he snapped, half over his shoulder, "when someone here finally accepts that I'm trying to help."

"Aw," Cassie muttered without looking up. "Did the badge not come with a participation ribbon?"

Theo snorted under his breath.

Pansy groaned softly. "Oh for fuck's sake." She turned toward the stairs. "Come on, Dray. Come back."

Draco didn't answer.

Pansy looked at Cassie. "You didn't have to go that hard."

Cassie didn't even look up. "He wore that badge ."

"He's still your brother."

"Exactly."

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

Draco was gone. Theo and Cass were reading and Pansy?

Pansy had been talking at her for forty straight minutes. Just... talking. The kind of relentless, optimistic drivel Cassie usually tuned out before it started.

"Look, I'm just saying," Pansy was saying now, "he's your cousin. You don't have to like him, but maybe don't try to emotionallydisembowel him in public?"

Cassie turned a page in her book.

Unbothered. Unmoved. Completely deaf.

"You know, family's complicated," Pansy continued, like she was starring in her own feel-good optimism is the key documentry . "Sometimes we lash out at the people we love the most."

Cassie blinked.

And flipped another page.

Theo, from his corner, looked up with mild interest. "She's gone full therapy goblin. Should I intervene?"

"I'm not a goblin," Pansy huffed, exasperated. "I'm being mature."

"You're monologuing to someone who hasn't spoken in thirty-nine minutes," Theo deadpanned.

"Forty-two," Cassie said without looking up.

Pansy let out a groan

The door creaked open and Blaise burst in like he'd just escapedhell.

"Fucking Filch," he announced. "Doorknobs. Toothbrush. Cursive ink report written in—

He stopped short when he saw the energy in the room.

Froze.

Squinted.

"No," he said slowly. "No, you did not have a fight without me."

Theo glanced up, deadpan. "You didn't miss much. Draco came back. Cassie destroyed him emotionally. He left red and slightly humiliated."

"Aw, hell." Blaise dropped his bag. "And I wasn't here to cheer? Or throw popcorn?"

"You want me to do it again?" Cassie offered without looking up.

"Enough. Cass. Shut up." Pans snapped

Blaise plopped into the armchair like a man in mourning. "Everything interesting happens without me."

He reached into his bag, pulled something folded and worn—and tossed it into Cassie's lap.

"Thought you'd want to see what the fuss is about," he said.

Cassie blinked down at it.

The Quibbler.
Front page headline: "HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

"That's banned," Draco's voice snapped from the doorway—he had clearly returned just in time to be annoying.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Cassie lifted the magazine slowly. Looked at him over the top of it. Raised a brow. Then deadpanned, "Aw, what's wrong? Your Ministry Mummy said we can't read scary stories?"

Theo let out a low whistle.

Pansy threw her arms in the air. "WHY DO I EVEN TRY?"

No one answered her.

"I'm going to bed," she declared, grabbing her bag "When you lot eventually murder each other, don't say I didn't try to parent you."

Draco stormed off a beat later, muttering about "ungratefulness" under his breath.

Blaise followed him with a dramatic stretch "Right, well. I would stay and continue unpacking this article with you freaks, but I have—what's the word—dignity."

He slung his bag over one shoulder, but paused in the doorway, clocking the fact that neither Theo nor Cassie had moved.

He narrowed his eyes.

"You two staying up?"

Cassie didn't even glance away from the quibbler "Assignments."

Theo nodded, deadpan. "Due tomorrow."

Blaise's smirk turned immediate. "Riiight. Assignments."

He wiggled his brows obscenely. "Gotta finish those assignments. Together. At night. In dim candlelight. With deep breathing."

Theo didn't react.

Cassie didn't even blink.

Blaise made a dramatic kissy noise and vanished into the hallway, cackling like the gremlin he was.

The door swung shut behind him, leaving only candlelight.

Silence.

"Is he ever gonna grow up" Theo snorted reaching out for the Quibbler , flipping through it to the page he wanted.

"Oh for the sake of our sanity I hope never"

Theo just snorted and skimmed through the interview

"Honestly," she muttered watching him read "this entire thing reads like a fourth-year's fever dream."

Theo tilted his head. "You're saying you wouldn't trust a magazine that's published articles about heliopaths and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?"

"I mean," Cassie deadpanned, "they also ran a story on how to identify cursed toast by the burn pattern."

"That was a topical exposure."

"Sure. And this," she said, tapping the page, "is gonna bring down the Ministry, right? Potter says Voldemort's back. Hogwarts screams. Fudge shits a brick. World peace achieved. Sorted."

Theo gave a short laugh . "It's not going to fix anything."

"Exaclty," she said. "But for five minutes, everyone's going to believe him.But its too late now. Nothing is gonna be achieved from this "

Theo stared down at the magazine for a good long second "You think this changes anything?"

Cassie shrugged. "Changes the shape of the panic."

Theo gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah. People love panic. Especially when it's posted in a magazine with nargles."

She didn't say anything.

he didn't expect her to.

Theo closed the magazine, tossed it on the floor.

"God," she muttered, "what a stupid fucking year."

Theo leaned his head back "We should've transferred to Beauxbatons."

"I'd set that school on fire in two weeks."

"Yeah," he said, a small grin tugging at his mouth. "You would."

Theo reached for his own book again, opening it with the kind of habitual frustration that came from trying to pretend the world wasn't ending.

Cassie's eyes flicked lazily to the spine.

Then her gaze caught on something else.

A folded scrap of parchment, sticking out from between the pages. dark and crumpled. Not part of the book.

She leaned forward slightly. "What's that?"

Theo froze.

Barely a pause—but she saw it.

His fingers slid over the parchment fast.

"Nothing,"  he said too quickly, tucking it deeper between the pages.

"Oh?" Her voice dropped an octave. "That didn't sound like nothing."

"It's just a thing," Theo muttered. "Drop it."

But Cassie was already standing.

"You're hiding something," she said, circling around the chair like a shark. "Theo. Theodore. Are you—" 

Then—without warning—her tone shifted. Too dramatic. Flat-out ridiculous.

"I knew it," she said.

Theo blinked. "What?"

"You're cheating on me."

"What the—no, what?"

"It all makes sense," she said seriously. "Moody. Secretive. Avoiding eye contact. That parchment is from her, isn't it? What's her name? Astoria? Eloise Midgen?"

Theo just stared at her.

"Was it the Stabbing?" she asked. "Did you want a girl with less rage and more feelings?"

Theo blinked. "What the—no?!"

Cassie lunged.

He jumped up, holding the book over his head—he was taller, of course—and she growled, stretching on tiptoe. "I'm Not CHEATING"

"You are! You're hiding love letters!"

"They're not—" Theo backed up, grinning despite himself

"Say it, Nott. Say you've been sneaking around Hogsmeade holding hands with some milk-eyed fifth year named Bree."

"Bree?" Theo coughed.

"You know, the kind who knits her own mittens and calls professors sir unironically."

Theo laughed, once. "There is no Bree."

Cassie tried to grab the book again.

Theo dodged. "Oi!"

"Give. It."

"Say please."

"I will murder you."

"Noted. But still not a please"

She lunged again, and this time caught his wrist, dragging him down enough to snatch the book.

"Got it!"

She yanked the parchment out, triumphant, already grinning—

Then saw the sender's name on the folded flap.

Her expression dropped. Instantly.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Theo said quietly, taking it back from her hand.

Cassie didn't move.

"Your father?"

"Yep" Theo nodded. "Haven't read it myself."

"You gonna read it?"

"No."

She leaned in. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to know what's in it."

Cassie's stare didn't soften, but something in her voice did. Just slightly. "Want me to read it for you?"

He looked at her. Almost startled. Then: "...would you?"

"I was offering mostly to mock it," she said honestly, reaching out. "But yeah."

Theo hesitated for one more second, then handed it over.

She unfolded the parchment. The paper was stiff. Creased like it had been shoved away too fast.

Cassie cleared her throat dramatically. "Let's see what your daddy Death Eater has to say."

Theo rolled his eyes, but didn't speak.

Cassie read aloud.

"Theodore.

I've been informed—via Lucius—of your situation. That you've taken up with the Black girl."

Cassie paused. Raised an eyebrow.

"The Black girl? Wow. Not even my name. What a dick."

Theo winced.

She continued reading:

"Let me be clear: I understand the appeal. The name carries weight. Influence. Power.

Good work.

But don't get stupid. Don't get attached.

You're young. She's a weapon, not a wife. Unless you want someone to screw the anger out of—but that's your business. I'd advise not dragging feelings into it."

"The Notts are ours again. . You'll find everything has changed. I'll send more details soon."

She paused.

Head tilted.

"That last part," she said slowly. "That means he... took over the estate?"

Theo exhaled. "Yeah. I think so."

"But that can't happen," Cassie said. "You said—your grandmother's still alive. In St. Mungo's. "

"She is," Theo said. "

Cassie narrowed her eyes. "No. You told me—as long as she's alive, your father can't inherit the full estate. The will was written that way."

Theo didn't say anything.

Cassie sat up straighter.

"No. No no no—Theo. You said. As long as she was alive—he couldn't get it."

His throat moved.

Cassie stared at him.

Slowly: "So what—you think he waited around for her to die peacefully? Or you think the timing is just... really fucking convenient?"

"I don't know."

"You do know," she snapped. "You just don't want to say it."."

Cassie stood abruptly, pacing now.

"And - He objectifies me. Treats me like a political strategy. He wants you cold, obedient, and breeding power. Like I'm your pet Dark artifact. Something to fuck and forget."

Theo stood, too. "That's not how I see you." he said immediately

Cassie's eyes flicked to his. "I know."

He took a breath, voice low. "But it is how he does. They all do- purebloods"

Cassie shook her head "So that fucker killed his own mum?" she repeated.

Theo didn't deny it.

Didn't try to soften it.

Cassie laughed. Once. Bitter rubbing her temples. "Your dad's out, your grandma's dead, and apparently I'm a trophy. What a time to be alive."

Theo didn't say anything.

Then—

"You're gonna give him a reply, right?" she asked, too casually.

Theo raised a brow. "You want me to send a thank you card?"

Cassie snorted. "No. I want you to tell him to choke on his own-"

"Stop," Theo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I'm not replying."

She pouted "Can I reply for you?"

"If you want to see me dead before sixth year, sure."

Cassie put a hand to her chest. "Oh no no, not with my name signed. We give your darling father the perfect heir response he's dying for. Something so polite, so formal, it basically tells him nothing while making it sound like everything."

Theo stared. "He'll expect me to align with what I write. He'll bring it up when I see him again. In person."

"Easy," Cassie said, sitting back down, already miming the act of writing with her finger in the air. "'Dearest Father, I have received your most illuminating correspondence. The girl, as you say, is effective, and immensely useful. I am carefully considering the long-term merits of alliance.'"

Theo was already shaking his head.

She wasn't done.

"'I will refrain from over-investment and continue to treat this arrangement as strategic. Rest assured, emotion plays no part in the matter.'"

"Merlin"

Cassie leaned forward dramatically. "'Also, she has great legs.'"

Theo gave her a deadpan look. "You're not helping."

She grinned. "Oh come on. We send him the most cold-blooded, misogynistic, pureblooded heir fantasy response ever—and boom, he thinks he's got you. He stops writing."

"Until he shows up and expects me to behave like the son he imagined."

Cassie gave a little shrug. "Just tell him your trophy wife Imperiused you."

Theo stared. Then, despite himself, laughed. Just once—short and strangled.

She grinned wider. "What? It's true. I've got great control. Dominant personality. It tracks."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're going to get me murdered."

"Please. I'd murder him before he touched a hair on your stupid head."

That shut him up.

Cassie stretched out, arms behind her head. "We don't have to write back, you know. You're not obligated."

Theo looked at the fire again. "I know."

"But if we do..." She paused, "...we write something that would just make him think you're playing along. Just long enough to keep him away."

He didn't respond right away.

Then:

"You'd really write it?"

Cassie nodded once.

"Just tell me the vibe," she said. "Cold heir? Indifferent asset? Secretly scheming? I can do them all. You want him to tremble? I'll make him cry."

Theo looked at her. Carefully.

"Why are you like this."

"Because someone's gotta be the psycho in this relationship," she said sweetly, fishing out a quill. "And you've clearly nominated me."

Theo huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

Cassie cracked her knuckles. "Alright," she muttered, eyes glinting. "Let's give Nott Senior the heir he deserves."

Theo exhaled. "This feels like a bad idea."

"Most of my ideas are," she replied sweetly, and dipped the quill in ink.

Dearest Father,

Thank you for your latest letter.

Regarding the Black girl:

I assure you—no feelings are involved. I remain committed to the family legacy. I recognize that sentiment weakens the bloodline. My intentions remain aligned with your expectations.

For now, I will continue this arrangement for tactical purposes. She provides distraction and a worthy legacy

I will not be writing again unless required. Any future communications be directed via the different channels,

Regards,
Theodore Nott

Cassie signed it with a flourish, then held it up to the candle to dry.

Theo blinked. "That is the most horrifying love letter I've ever seen."

She beamed. "Right? I had fun."

"You called him dearest father."

"I was being respectfully manipulative."

Theo opened his mouth—paused. His brow furrowed. He leaned forward toward the edge of the couch, squinting at the pile of old rags and parchment stacked beside her satchel.

"Uh... Cass?"

"Hmm?" she said distractedly, folding the letter into crisp quarters.

"I think this... bundle of rags is calling your name?"

Cassie glanced up.

"Oh. That's just my dad."

Theo froze. "I'm sorry, what?"

Cassie waved it off. "It's a two-way mirror. He gets bored."

Theo stared. "Your dad is in a pile of cloth and broken shit?"

"I didn't say he was organized."

At that moment, a hoarse voice crackled from the rags.

"Cassiopeia Black."

Theo blinked. "It's whispering. I—It's literally whispering your full name—"

"Pick it up," Cassie said, already sealing the envelope. "I'm busy lying to your patriarch."

He reached down with visible hesitation, lifting the tangled mess of fabric and glass.

As soon as the cracked mirror faced him, it shifted—grey eyes blinking

"Ah," the voice said. "Nott"

Theo stiffened. "Hi sir."

He looked back at Cassie. "He looks panicked"

Cassie didn't look up. "Obviously."

Theo held the mirror out. "I think he wants to talk to you."

Cassie took it "Cast a Muffliato, would you?"

Theo wordlessly pulled his wand. "Muffliato."

Cassie adjusted the mirror in her hands, squinting into the cracked glass.

Theo stayed nearby, casting a Muffliato around them

Cassie brought the mirror close.

"Sup, Dad."

Regulus Black—aka the most dramatic dad in Britain—was already frowning from inside the warped reflection.

"What were you doing?"

She blinked. "Hi to you too."

"Cassiopeia. Answer me."

"I was writing a letter."

"To who?"

She turned the mirror slightly so Theo came into frame,

"No one special. Just His dad."

Regulus paled. Visibly.

"What—father—Thomas?!"

Cassie sighed. "Here we go."

"CASSIOPEIA ARCTURUS BLACK WHAT THE ACTUAL—WHAT THE FUCK—ARE YOU—UGH—"

"Okay, breathe,

Regulus's face twitched.

"Don't breath me when I'm having a full-blown cardiac event."

"You're being dramatic."

"You were writing to Thomas Nott. That's not dramatic, that's suicidal."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Fake letter. Strategic heir nonsense. Relax."

"Relax?! CASS—That man is a monster...Even in Hogwarts he was the most perverted disgusting bootlicking-" He stopped "I mean- no offence Theodore"

Theo just shrugged

"I know."

"U KNOW? CASS- HE WOULD USE YOU FOR POLITICAL BREEDING."

"I know."

"So why in Merlin's name are you corresponding with him?! Do you know what kind of man—Why would you even—What possessed you—""

Cassie sighed and leaned back.

"I wasn't. Theo got a letter. I just helped him write a fake reply so Thomas stops sniffing around like a perv in velvet

Regulus ran a hand down his face.

"Okay. Okay, that's—slightly less terrible. But that's not why I'm calling."

She narrowed her eyes. "Go on."

"Come home."

Cassie blinked. "Not again."

"Come. Home. Immediately."

"What is it this time?"

"What do you mean 'this time'? Star—they're out."

Cassie nodded slowly. "Yeah. We know. Azkaban exploded. Very dramatic. Headlines. so?"

"SO?!" Regulus's voice cracked. "So Thomas is out. Bellatrix is out. Mulciber is out. Star—it's not safe."

"Still Hogwarts, Dad."

"You think that matters? They know your name- what if they- Does Thomas know about you?

Theo shot Cassie a look, but she shook her head. "Yea But he Just thinks I'm Theo's little pureblood girlfriend with a family name and nice hips. Which, fair."

"This isn't funny, Cass."

Cassie sat forward.

"No, it's not. But I can't leave Hogwarts every time Voldemort hiccups."

"This isn't hiccups—this is war."

"Exactly. And you want me to go hide in our unprotected muggle flat while Death Eaters march into school grounds?"

Regulus stared. "It's Unplottable. I've got counter-wards. I'm the only person in the last twenty years to out-duel Dolohov in school"

Cassie tilted her head.

"So you're saying... it's safer to come live with a man who faked his death and lives off-grid in a magically reinforced panic apartment... than stay in the most warded castle in Britain... protected by Dumbledore... filled iwth witches and wizards?"

Regulus hesitated.

"...Yes."

Cassie leaned back. "Nah."

"Star."

"I have work to do."

"CASSIE."

She stared at the mirror. Calm. Completely Cassie. "I love you. But if you call me again to panic about something I already know, I will make you read Thomas Nott's next letter."

Regulus twitched.

Cassie smiled sweetly.

He sighed "You're impossible."

"You're dramatic."

Theo, from behind her: "She's not wrong."

Regulus glared through the mirror. "Stay out of this, Nott."

Theo raised both hands. "Yes, sir."

Regulus blinked once on the mirror, like he wanted to say more. Then vanished.

The glass went dark again

Theo exhaled slowly, staring at the now-blank surface. "What am I supposed to do," he muttered, "if I keep getting letters from my lovely father and his psychotic pen pals?"

Cassie didn't miss a beat. "Burn them."

Theo nodded. "Fair."

He glanced at the one Cassie had already crumpled on the desk. "What should I do with the letters though?"

Cassie barked a laugh—open, real. She stood, "Good one."

Theo stood too, but slower. Then stepped in tugging her forward by the wrist—confident, like he knew she wouldn't stop him hands settling on her waist—and murmured just against her mouth:

"Well, I am learning from the best."

His voice brushed just against her lips.

Cassie tilted her head. Smirk curling. "Learn faster," she said, low and unblinking. "I get bored easily. There's a long line of pretty purebloods who'd die to be taught by me."

Theo's jaw clenched in the slightest "Then let them die," he said simply, and leaned in—closer, slow, until his lips brushed hers, barely there.

Cassie let him get close. Inches. Breath. The heat of it humming between them

Then she stepped back.

"Alrighty," she said breezily, like her heart wasn't thudding. "Time to sleep."

Theo caught her wrist again before she got two steps.

This time, he pulled her back harder. One hand slid to her waist—grip firmer, not quite desperate, but definitely needy.

"You can't keep doing this, Black," he said low in her ear his voice almost a rumble "Two can play this game."

Cassie turned her head, slowly, until their noses almost touched.

And smiled. That infuriating, lethal, amused smile.

"Well, mon chéri," she murmured French tumbling off her lips like it was natural "you couldn't handle it if I let you win."

Theo's eyes darkened. "Try me."

Cassie just tilted her head amused

And then he kissed her. No slow build. Just —rough, deliberate, like he was done waiting.

Cassie didn't melt into it. She devoured. Her fingers fisted in his collar, pulling him closer, meeting with equal force. It wasn't sweet. It wasn't soft.

It was a challenge.

And it was so them.

By the time they pulled apart, both slightly breathless, neither of them had won.

But they hadn't lost, either.

Cassie smirked amused "Alright, Nott. Got what you wanted?"

Theo's hand was still at her waist.

"Not nearly."

Cassie tapped his chest twice with her fingers, like closing a case .

"Tough. I'm going to sleep."

And she turned away again—leaving him standing there, head spinning, mouth parted.

"I've got a feeling the next few weeks are gonna be crazy," she said over her shoulder, "So sleep tight, lover boy."

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

Cassie had been right.

But also wrong.

A lot was going on.

But at the same time... nothing much was happening at all.

Cassie wasn't speaking to Draco.

And the others were stuck awkwardly in the middle, pretending not to feel it.

Some days, it almost worked.

Mostly it didn't.

Blaise had stopped trying to creat peace. Pansy had given up entirely, opting to lounge with Daphne in the library

Trelawney had been fired last week. Apparently it had been dramatic—wailing, monologues and everything. Pansy described it as "better than theatre," and Blaise claimed he'd watched it with popcorn.

Cassie hadn't bothered to show up.

She didn't even have Divination. She didn't care.
She hadn't met the new teacher yet, though she kept hearing Parvati and Lavender whispering about him in the corridors.

A centaur.

Cassie honestly wasn't sure what to call one without offending the entire species. She had just heard Parvati squealing something about "actual Divination from an actual creature of the stars, Lav, this is literally fate"—

Did it matter?

Between upcoming OWLS, them ghosting the DA , neither of them had the mental capacity to be curious. They'd stopped exploring new magic for the time being. Buried in books.

Everyone was jumpier. Snappier, She and Theo—usually in sync like twin blades—had started arguing more often. Nothing big. Just short tempers. A slammed book here, a sarcastic jab there.
It was easier to snap than to say out loud what they both knew:

Which is why, when a third-year boy crashed into Cassie in the corridor after dinner—Cassie didn't even blink before snarling, "You planning to use your eyes or should I help you take them out?"

The kid froze.

Theo raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

Before either of them could follow it up, a voice called out from behind them—

"Hey! Back off that kid!"

Potter.

Of course.

They turned to see the Golden Trio striding toward them like a moral police no one called for. Behind Harry stood Granger, arms crossed, and Weasley, already red in the face, Looking ready to throw fists he didn't have

Cassie raised a brow. "Oh, look. The house elves have unionized."

Theo huffed a sound that might've been a laugh. Might've been a threat.

Cassie and Theo just stared.

Dead silent.

The kid ran off the moment they looked away.

Potter huffed. "You didn't have to scare him like that."

Cassie shrugged. "I didn't hex him. That's growth."

Theo added, "He bumped into my girl. Honestly, he got off light."

Harry sighed clearly not wanting to get in this further. "I could actually use you two in a DA meeting again."

Cassie tilted her head at Theo. "Didn't we quit?"

"I think we ghosted," Theo said blandly.

"Everyone could use the help."

"Everyone wants the help," Cassie corrected, "until they remember who they're asking."

"I'm asking," Harry said. "You don't have to—just think about it."

She didn't respond.

Harry stayed steady. "You're good at what you do. I'm not asking you to be friendly. I'm asking you to help."

Cassie looked bored. "That's the same thing, Potter."

Ron scoffed. "Why are you always like this?"

Cassie smiled. "Like what?"

"So bloody smug. Just 'cause you know a bit more and you've got a bit of dark magic in your blood doesn't make you better than anyone else."

"Oh, darling," she purred, "I don't think I'm better because of the magic."

Theo snorted.

"It's the blood." She said gaze sliding past Hermione — pausing just long enough to make her stiffen — and then zeroed in on Ron like he was something stuck to her boot.

"You know Weasley, Some of us were raised with more than borrowed clothes and secondhand shame. But I get it, must be hard," she said, tone dipping into mock sympathy, "being a blood-traitor in a hand-me-down robe, pining after Muggle girls

Theo coughed into his hand. Which was definitely hiding a grin.

Hermione stiffened. Ron looked ready to explode.

"Alright, that's enough." Harry snapped

Cassie's brows rose, slow and unimpressed.

"Oh, yes," Theo stepped in dryly "Now that the hero of the wizarding world has spoken, should we bow? Or kneel?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You think this is funny?"

"No," Cassie said flatly "I think the fact that you can tell me what to do is funny."

"We're not scared of you," Ron spat.

"Mm. You should be." she said flatly. "Fear keeps stupid people alive."

Ron flushed. Then said it, his mouth moved faster than his brain. "Figure, Guess when your mom's dead and your father hates you, all that's left is to scare children in corridors."

Hermione gasped. "Ron!"

Cassie didn't reply

But Theo did. "Shut the fuck up before I break that mouth of yours."

Ron stepped forward his tone cocky. "Touchy, Nott? Is it that hard of a job playing guard dog for her?"

Theo's jaw clenched and fist balled.

Cassie muttered, "Do you want me to stop you?"

Theo, eyes never leaving Ron "Do you care?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly ."

Ron didn't back down. "Go ahead, Death Eater's son. Let's see if you're anything without her."

Theo moved—fast. He had Ron by the collar before anyone could blink.

"HEY—" Harry stepped forward—

—and that's when the corridor went quiet. The temperature dropped. The lighting shifted. Something moved. From the far end of the hallway, hoofbeats echoed.

A figure emerged from the shadows,

A centaur. Pale, silver-blond, tall and ethereal like he didn't belong in the castle at all.

Everyone froze.

Even Cassie.

He stopped a few paces from them, his voice deep and calm.

"Is this what wizards call unity?"

Theo still had Ron clenched in his fist. Cassie still hadn't moved.

"Professor Firenze," Harry muttered. "Sorry. It got out of hand."

Firenze's gaze swept the group. Fell last on Cassie.

She met it. Unflinching. But something stirred in her gut.

"Break it up."

Theo let go immediately. Cassie rolled her eyes like the fun had been ruined. Ron stumbled, red-faced and furious, while Harry dragged him back, Hermione said nothing—just threw Cassie a look

The trio turned and walked off without another word.

Cassie and Theo moved to pass Firenze as well.

But the centaur turned his head slightly.

"Black."

Cassie stopped. "What."

Firenze didn't blink. "Interesting. I've always wanted to meet you."

She squinted. "That's... creepy as fuck. Why?"

Theo elbowed her sharply in the ribs.

Right. That probably came out wrong- a bit too rude?

"I meant," she corrected, clearing her throat, "what do you mean... horse?"

Beat.

"Sir. Horse-sir?"

Theo let out a strangled noise that was definitely not a laugh but definitely was.

Firenze looked vaguely amused. "The stars have much to say about you."

Cassie snorted. "Do they also say what I'm supposed to call you? Horseman? Man Horse?"

Theo made a noise that might've been a choke.

"I am Firenze," the centaur said. "And you may call me that, Cassiopeia."

The way he said her name—it sent goosebumps up her arms. "Well, alright then," she still muttered, folding her arms. "Glad that's cleared up."

Firenze studied her . He took a slow step forward, hooves echoing

"The stars speak of darkness," he said.

Cassie blinked. "Okay."

"They name you heiress. One who prides herself on being unmatched." He tilted his head. "But she will meet her match."

Cassie let out a slow, exaggerated gasp. "Oh no. Whatever will I do."

Firenze didn't react.

He just continued "The battle inside you has only begun."

Cassie made a show of looking around. "Anyone else hearing this spooky riddle shit or just me?"

Firenze's gaze didn't waver

"Alright, Tarot-Horse, quick question—do you come with subtitles or are all your riddles equally inconvenient?"

"The sky does not explain itself to those who will not look up."

Cassie raised both brows. "Merlin. Do you write for Lovegood's magazine?"

Still nothing. Just those eerie eyes watching her like she was a star he already knew the ending to.

"You're very judgy you know that?," she muttered, slightly unnerved now.

"The stars do not judge. They only warn."

"And what are they warning me of, exactly? Myself?"

"Not warning. Watching," Firenze said. "To see if the shadow consumes the girl, or if the girl bends it to her will."

Cassie opened her mouth. Closed it. Then: "...Yeah, alright. That's enough forest therapy for one day."

She turned and walked off with Theo right behind her, muttering something about "talking constellations" and "if I wanted cryptic prophecies I'd call my dad."

Firenze stayed behind.

Still watching.

Because the stars were never wrong.

Only early.

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

"...Okay. That was vaguely threatening, right?"

Theo shrugged. "You called him Horse-sir five minutes ago."

"I panicked!"

"Do You always panic by picking a fight with a divine prophetic centaur?"

"It's a coping mechanism, Nott."

"Mm."

A beat.

Then he added, "So. Do we go back to the DA?"

Cassie didn't look at him, just tilted her head like she was thinking about it. Then "Maybe one more. Just to traumatize them so badly they beg us not to show up again."

Theo laughed once. "That's the spirit."

They kept walking.

Cassie's eyes flicked briefly to the window as they passed.

The stars were out.

She didn't look up.

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

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

Traitor

Theo had landed himself detention. Again. For what, exactly, he hadn't elaborated—

But of course, the detention just happened to fall on the exact day of the DA's meeting.

"Traitor," Cassie had snapped when he told her. "You absolute fucking traitor."

Now she was here.

Alone.

In a room filled with overly eager teenagers and glowing fucking animals.

"Patronuses?" Cassie repeated, staring at Harry like he'd just offered her a pygmy puff

"Yeah," he said, already rubbing the back of his neck. "thats what we started-"

"You didn't think to mention this before calling me in here?" she snapped.

Harry blinked. "I... thought you might find it useful?"

Cassie looked around the Room of Requirement, where at least a dozen DA members were already waving their wands while various silver shapes danced and shimmered through the air.

A dolphin. An otter. Something that looked like a squirrel in a cape.

She turned back to him. "You cannot seriously expect my help with this."

"You can do a Patronus, right?" 

"Never a corporeal one," Cassie said flatly. "Don't have enough happiness in my soul. Checked. It's a hard no."

"Everyone can do one if they just—"

"No," she interrupted. "No, see, you're still talking. That's the problem."

Harry sighed. "You're being difficult on purpose."

"Difficult is my baseline, Potter."

Someone's Patronus galloped behind them like a cheerful little deer. Cassie gave it a death glare. It vanished.

Harry tried again. "Do you want to give it a try—?"

"I'd rather curse my own foot."

"Cassiop—"

"I am not," she hissed, "projecting joy into the air like a magical therapy session. This is Hogwarts, not group healing."

There was a loud clatter as someone dropped their wand near the back.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just... watch for now. Maybe it'll help."

Cassie gave him a look that said I will remember this betrayal when the war starts.

because

The Room of Requirement was glowing—silver streaks of light

Air filled with positivity—hope, joy, and all the other things Cassie actively avoided. Room Glowed as Patronuses galloped through the atmosphere.

Cassie was in the corner, arms crossed, trying very hard not to vomit from the emotional optimism stinking up the place.

Someone's rabbit skittered past her ankle and she flinched

"I hate this," she muttered under her breath, watching Hermione fondly stroke her glowing otter while whispering something to Harry.

Cassie squinted at them. She had half a mind to hex herself into oblivion just to make it stop till The door opened

And closed.

No footsteps.

Then—
Someone tugged on Harry's robes from below.

Cassie's expression sharpened the moment she saw the mop of hats.

Dobby.

"Harry Potter, sir..." the elf squeaked, wild-eyed and pale beneath eight layers of felt. "Dobby has come to warn you..."

"Dobby is not supposed to say—but Dobby must say—she is coming."

Cassie's spine stiffened immediately moving towards the elf "Who?"

Dobby looked around wildly, panicking, tugging at his ears. "Dobby has been warned—told not to tell—but Dobby—Dobby must warn—"

He slammed his head against her knee.

"Fucking hell—" Cassie crouched, gripping his arms.

"Is it Umbridge?" she hissed.

Dobby wailed.

"Is she coming now?" Harry asked.

Dobby howled. "YES, Harry Potter, YES!"

Patronuses blinked out of existence like soap bubbles.

"GET OUT!" Cassie barked, spinning toward the group. "NOW!"

They all froze.

"I SAID MOVE!" she snarled.

That did it.

There was a surge, a scream of feet and wands and half-panicked directions. Chairs toppled. Someone tripped. Someone was crying. Someone else yelled, "Library!"

Cassie shoved Harry toward the door.

"Go! You're the face of this mess—if she catches you, we're done."

"But the others—"

"FUCK the others, Potter. Scram."

Harry hesitated. She shoved him again.

Then Hermione grabbed his arm, nodding at Cassie. "We'll go—come on—Cassiopeia, leave—now."

"I'm right behind you," Cassie said.

Lying.

She didn't follow. She waited for everyone to leave, then slipped out the door and stood alone in the corridor just outside the Room, breathing shallowly, every muscle still.

The torches flickered. Somewhere far off, she could hear shouting. Running.

Then—

"AAARGH!"

A loud thud. The unmistakable sound of Harry Potter skidding across stone.

Cassie leaned back slightly, still hidden by the curve of the hallway. Her eyes narrowed.

She didn't have to look to know what had happened.

And then she heard the voice.

"Trip Jinx, Potter!"

Cassie closed her eyes.

"Draco," she muttered. "Of course."

She heard him shout again—"PROFESSOR! I've got one!"

Another voice now, shrill and sweet: "Excellent, Draco, excellent—fifty points to Slytherin!"

Cassie exhaled slowly through her nose.

Umbridge.

So it was officially happening.

The plan was falling apart, and Potter had just been handed over like a birthday present. If he opened his mouth, if he said the wrong thing,

They were fucked.

They literally made a list of names and pinned it to the wall like absolute morons, she thought bitterly.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose with one knuckle.

They didn't even try to hide it.

Cassie stayed pressed against the stone, silent. She could hear Draco's footsteps retreating down another corridor—probably calling for more goons. The stupid Squad.

A part of her itched to step back. Disappear.

But...

Wouldn't matter. The damage was already done.

If Harry messed up not only the DA would fall apart. The Ministry would be inside the school fully. And they would all be expelled

She thought of Umbridge.

Of that fake-sweet voice.

Of the way Draco had smiled with his new Squad badge

She grit her teeth.

Maybe it was time she played the game like she wanted.

Cassie exhaled. And stepped out of the shadows just as Draco rounded the corner at a jog, wand drawn, looking wild with adrenaline

He nearly collided with her.

"FUCK—Cass?!"

She didn't flinch.

Just raised one eyebrow like he'd interrupted her mid-nap.

"No- you- what the fuck are you doing here?!"

Cassie tilted her head. "Interesting. I was going to ask you the same."

Draco's eyes darted, panic creeping "Don't tell me you were in there—with Potter—?"

"I don't need to tell you anything," she said flatly.

His jaw clenched. "You're involved in this?"

She didn't answer.

Draco stepped closer. "Cass, this is serious—"

"No that's my father"

He flinched. Just barely.

She saw it.

Footsteps approached—heavier, slower. Not a student.

Someone was coming.

A man.

Squat. Older. Short gray hair. Mustache

Cassie flicked her eyes over Draco's shoulder. He realized too.

Fuck.

He looked at her again. Panic simmering.

And she knew exactly what was about to happen.

He wasn't going to give her up. Whatever might have happened between them. He would never. But that would put him in trouble.

And Cassie couldn't have that. Not tonight.

So she gave him a regretful shrug.

"Well. Sorry, cousin."

She flicked her wand.

"Stupefy."

The red spell hit Draco in the chest, knocking him clean down the corridor. He tumbled like a rag doll and slammed against the stone wall with a yelp.

She turned just in time to see a man with close-cropped grey hair and the dumbest expression she'd ever seen round the corridor.

He froze at the sight of her, wand already raised.

"Well, well," he said, grinning like a toad in a uniform. "Miss Umbridge'll  be very pleased. Seems we've got ourselves one more."

Cassie just stared at him. Expression unreadable.

Arms crossed.

"Careful," she said calmly glancing at Draco "I hexed the last one who grabbed me."

The Man looked uncertain now.

Cassie just smiled. "Let's go, then."

***************************
headmasters office

The door creaked open

Cassie walked in like she'd been invited. Chin up, arms loose at her sides, hogwarts robe pressed. Not a trace of guilt on her face. She didn't scan the room. She assessed it. The first thing Cassiopeia felt wasn't the tension in the air. It was the smugness.

Fudge looked like a man who'd just caught the biggest fish of his life he was grinning, eager, . Umbridge looked worse—pink-faced and practically vibrating. Percy Weasley sat smug, and McGonagall looked like she was seconds from throwing someone out a window.

Dumbledore was the only one not moving.

Still as stone behind his desk, hands folded.

Harry was standing in front of him, arm gripped tight in Umbridge's claw, his hair a mess, his glasses slightly crooked.

They all turned as she entered.

And Cassie?

Cassie didn't flinch.

She stepped into the room with her chin high, her eyes unreadable, her expression blank—but her mind was moving faster than anyone in it.

Nine people present. Five political. Two irrelevant. One wild card. And One her. The chess master.
There's still time to burn this house down without lighting the match.

"Well, well," Fudge said, stepping forward gleefully "Miss Black. I should've known."

Cassie tilted her head. "Minister." Cool. Courteous. Murderous underneath. Then looked straight past him. Let her eyes find Harry.

Then—

the tiniest, glinting wink. and a small smirk clearly saying I'll handle it

Harry's mouth parted just slightly.

"I told you, Minister," Umbridge squealed, breathless with excitement. "I always knew she was trouble. If it weren't for that—that Mr. Pierre shielding her—"

Cassie tilted her head, voice flat and bored. "He pays half your department's salaries. Say that one more time, and we'll see if you're still breathing pink next week."

Umbridge paled. Dumbledore blinked once.

Fudge cleared his throat. "Right—Potter. I expect you know why you're here?"

Harry opened his mouth. Then glanced at Dumbledore. Cassie watched the smallest motion from the old man—a slow, subtle shake of his head.

Harry shifted mid-word. "Yeh—no."

"I beg your pardon?" Fudge asked.

"No," Harry said again, this time firmer.

"You don't know why you're here?" Fudge said, eyebrows raised.

"No, I don't," Harry replied, gaze darting once—just once—to Cassie.

She kept her eyes on Fudge. Let him feel her watching

"So you have no idea," Fudge sneered, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you here? You're not aware you've broken any school rules?"

"School rules?" Harry repeated, feigning confusion. "No."

"Or Ministry decrees?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

Cassie suppressed a smile.

He's lying badly. But he's trying. Brave little lion.

Fudge bristled, blood rising in his cheeks. "So it's news to you, is it, that an illegal student organization has been discovered in this school?"

Harry put on his best confused face. "Yes. It is."

Cassie tilted her head slightly, folding her arms,

"I think, Minister," Umbridge said, voice syrupy with self-importance, "we'd make better progress if I fetched our informant."

Fudge nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes—do. Nothing like a good witness, eh, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore's eyes flicked to Cassie—briefly.

She didn't blink.

She just... smiled.

The door opened.

And in came Professor Umbridge, dragging a girl by the arm—robes wrinkled, face buried in the high collar of her cloak like she was trying to disappear into it.

Cassie recognized her instantly.
Edgecombe. The one who sat too stiff. Who always looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. This bitch

Cassie didn't move.

She didn't need to.

"Don't be scared, dear," Umbridge said, her voice sickly sweet as she patted the girl's shoulder. "The Minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been. Minister, this is Marietta Edgecombe—her mother works for the Department of Magical Transportation—Floo Network Office—she's been helping us monitor Hogwarts fires."

"Jolly good, jolly good!" Fudge said heartily. "Like mother, like daughter! Now, come on, dear, don't be shy—let's hear what you've got to—"

"Galloping gargoyles!"

Fudge recoiled so hard he nearly tripped over his own cloak, one foot catching fire from the hearth as he scrambled backward.

Cassie raised a brow.

On Marietta's face, angry purple boils had bloomed across her cheeks and nose, spelling one blazing word:
SNEAK.

The room went still.

Marietta whimpered and pulled her robes higher, covering everything but her eyes.

"Oh never mind the spots now, dear," Umbridge said impatiently. "Just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister—"

But Marietta shook her head violently, letting out a muffled sob.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Umbridge snapped. "Very well, I'll tell him."

Cassie finally moved. She took one slow step forward, arms still folded. "Or," she said, , "we could all take a moment to acknowledge that this girl hasn't said a single word since entering the room."

Fudge blinked. "What?"

"She's not talking," Cassie said simply. "Which means this is not a testimony. This is theater. And not a very good one."

"She came to me," Umbridge said, voice strained, "and she told me—"

"But she's not telling him." Cassie gestured at Fudge. "Or any of us. That's not evidence. That's pressure."

Umbridge's cheeks puffed like a bullfrog.

"I have plenty of evidence," she snapped. "She told me about the Room and said there would be a meeting—"

"And now she's shaking her head," Cassie said mildly. "Curious."

Fudge frowned. "Why would she lie?"

Cassie didn't blink. "Why would she walk in here hexed, terrified, and completely mute—right after a 'chat ' with Professor Umbridge? Maybe you tried to convince her too hard and your pressure campaign backfired. Or maybe she regrets whatever deal you made her."

Dumbledore said nothing. But she could feel his gaze.

The old man was listening.

Umbridge let out an indignant splutter, red in the face, but Fudge stepped forward, choosing to take ove.

"Marietta," Fudge said kindly. "It's very brave of you, my dear, coming forward. Just tell us—what was the meeting about? Who was there?"

Marietta trembled. But she didn't speak.

"Don't we have a counterjinx for this?" Fudge barked.

"I've not found one," Umbridge muttered.

Cassie's mouth twitched. Granger, you absolute savage.

"But it doesn't matter," Umbridge went on. "Because I have more evidence. I told you months ago Potter was organizing something—I have testimony from Willy Widdershins—he was in the Hog's Head, he heard it all!"

"Oh, so that's why he wasn't punished for the regurgitating toilets. How enlightening." said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "What an interesting insight into our justice system!"

"Blatant corruption!" roared the portrait of the corpulent, red nosed wizard on the wall behind Dumbledore's desk. "The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!"

"Thank you, Fortescue, that will do," said Dumbledore softly

"The purpose of Potter's meeting with these students," continued Professor Umbridge, "was to persuade them to join an illegal society,whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age —"

"I think you'll find you're wrong there, Dolores," said Dumbledorequietly, peering at her over the half-moon spectacles perched halfway down his crooked nose.

"Oho!" said Fudge, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again. "Yes, do let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on — Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potter's identical twin in the Hog's Head that day? Or is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life, and a couple of invisible dementors?"

Percy Weasley let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, very good, Minister, very good!"

Cassiopeia could have kicked his face at that moment

"Cornelius, I do not deny — and nor, I am sure, does Harry —that he was in the Hog's Head that day, nor that he was trying to recruit students to a Defense Against the Dark Arts group. I am merely pointing out that Dolores is quite wrong to suggest that such a group was, at that time, illegal. If you remember, the Ministry decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after Harry's Hogsmeade meeting, so he was not breaking any rules in the Hog's Head at all."

Percy looked as though he had been struck in the face by something very heavy. Fudge remained motionless in mid-bounce, his mouth hanging open.

Umbridge recovered first. "That's all very fine, Headmaster," she said, smiling sweetly. "But we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are."

"Well," said Dumbledore, surveying her with polite interest over the top of his interlocked fingers, "they certainly would be, if they had continued after the decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that these meetings continued?"

Cassie saw it—the beat of hesitation. The silence Fudge didn't know how to fill She took a breath. Slipped in. "And even if such a group did exist," she said, "I'd assume the Ministry would need something more than rumors and half-sentences to charge anyone. You're building your argument on a girl who hasn't spoken."

"She came to us!" Umbridge barked.

"But she's not coming to your defense now." Cassie's tone didn't shift,. Her voice stayed calm, clipped, just on the edge of polite. But her eyes flicked—once—to the back of the room. A flurry of movement. A tall figure moving quietly by the fireplace

The mysterious dark wizard.
Cassie narrowed her eyes.
That had to be Shacklebolt.

She turned back to Umbridge without blinking "This implies doubt, Professor Or coercion. You have no Evidence"

"Evidence? Have you not been listening, Miss Black? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?"

"Oh, can she tell us about six months' worth of meetings?" Cassie shot "Didnt you say she was merely reporting a meeting tonight."

"Miss Edgecombe," said Umbridge at once, "tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake yourhead, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?"

Cassiopeia looked directly at the top of Marietta's face. Onlyher eyes were visible between the pulled up robes and her curly fringe. And if Cassiopeia was reading them right—which she absolutely was—those eyes were blank.

She shook her head no

Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge and then back at Marietta. "I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past sixmonths? You have, haven't you?"

Again, Marietta shook her head.

"What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?" said Umbridge in a testy voice

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," said McGonagall coldly, "they mean 'no.' So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign language as yet unknown to humans —"

Professor Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her around to face her,and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised. Kingsley started forward and Umbridge leapt back from Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they had been burned.

"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore, and for the first time, he looked angry

Marietta was standing exactly where Umbridge had released her. She seemed neither perturbed by Umbridge's sudden attack, nor relieved by her release. She was still clutching her robe up to her oddly blank eyes, staring straight ahead of her

"Dolores," said Fudge, with the air of trying to settle something once and for all, "the meeting tonight — the one we know definitely happened —"

Cassie gave the tiniest shrug. "So perhaps this is the first one that happened. So what?"

"She said Potter was leading it—"

"Still the first one," Cassie said flatly.

But her mind was already sprinting.

Because she knew what Umbridge was about to do. She knew it with that sixth sense that came from watching people play petty power games and thinking they were clever.

She knew the stupid woman would pull out her final card, the so-called "evidence" she thought would seal this tight.

The list.

They were going to bring out the bloody list.

Cassie didn't move. Her expression didn't shift. But the inside of her head ignited—

The list.
They'd really written it. Signed it. Named it.
And pinned it to a wall like proud little revolutionaries.

Idiots.

Every last one of them.

Except her.
And Theo.

Minister Fudge turned to Umbridge with that nasty glee in his voice. "Well?" he demanded.

Umbridge practically sparkled. "Miss Edgecombe tipped me off. I proceeded to the seventh floor at once with... certain trusted students. We didn't catch them all, but—well. Some evidence remained."

Cassie didn't need to see it.

She felt the wave of doom before the parchment even unrolled.

Umbridge held it like a scripture

The List.
With names.
Real signatures.
Proof in ink and their idiocy.

There would be no escaping it now.

The trap had snapped shut.

Umbridge handed it to Fudge, who looked at it like it was Christmas morning.

"'D.A.'?" he read aloud, eyes narrowing at the heading. "'D.A.' What does that stand for?"

Cassie didn't answer. Not yet.
Because something caught her eye.

Dumbledore.

So calm.

So composed.

Always five steps ahead.

Always watching.
But never protecting.

He was Not looking at the list. Not at Fudge. Her.

Their eyes locked.

It only lasted a second. Maybe less.
But in that second, Cassie saw everything.

Not pity. Not surprise.
Not even worry.

Cassie held his gaze. Barely moved. But something inside her cracked sideways.

You're not going to protect me, are you?

Of course not.
He didn't like her. He tolerated her. Barely.
She was too sharp, too loud, too... Black.

And right now, the castle needed a scapegoat.

So why not hand it to them wrapped in a ribbon?

And suddenly, she realized—

why not take two birds with one stone?

She could save herself.
Burn Dumbledore.
And walk out of this.

So she looked at him.

Just once.

The Ministry wouldn't care about nuance.
They had a list.
They had a name.
And they had Potter.

But—

She could still walk away from this.
If someone else took the fall.
If she gave them something juicier to chew on.

Her eyes slid to Dumbledore.

The great Albus Dumbledore.

The man who always knew everything.

The man who would never protect anyone but himself

He wouldn't protect her.
So why protect him?

He was powerful.

He could take it.

He'd recover.

He always did.

And maybe—

Maybe it was time someone else answered for once.

Cassie lifted her gaze.
Looked straight at Dumbledore.
And gave him a smile so slight it could've been a twitch.

It was a thank-you.

It was a goodbye.

A silent checkmate between two players who both knew the game was ending — just not for the same reason.

Then, she turned. Calmly. Precisely. Facing the Minister.

"Oh, I can tell you that, Minister," she said, tone composed, with just the perfect note of remorse. "After all, I deeply regret the mistake of showing up tonight. The least I can do is cooperate."

Umbridge stared at her like she'd just grown a second head.

Fudge, however, lit up like a dog with a bone. "Better late than never, Miss Black. Mr. Pierre's always been a help to the Ministry—I'd expect no less from his daughter. So would you..."

He waved the parchment list slightly.

"...be so kind?"

Cassie dipped her chin — a small, nod.

"Of course, Minister. I understand where I went wrong."

She could feel Dumbledore watching her.

And just before she delivered the blow, she met his gaze one last time. Intentionally.

You'll survive this, her expression said.
But you won't forget it was me.

Fudge stepped forward, eyes alight.

"So, Black — what does D.A. stand for?"

Cassie smiled. "Dumbledore's Army."

A flicker of something—not surprise, not disappointment, something colder—tightened the corners of Dumbledore's mouth.

Maybe it was the first time in a very long time that someone had made a move he hadn't anticipated.

Good.

Let him feel it.

He had let too many things burn while playing his long games.

Let him feel what it's like to get outplayed.

Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudge's face. He took a horrified step backward, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again. "You?" he whispered, stamping again on his smoldering cloak."

That's right," said Dumbledore .

"You organized this?""

I did," said Dumbledore.

"You recruited these students for — for your army?"

"Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting," said Dumbledore, nodding calmly. "Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe."
He paused.
"And Miss Black, of course."

Marietta nodded.

Fudge looked from her to Dumbledore, his chest swelling. "Then you have been plotting against me!" he yelled.

"NO!" Harry shouted suddenly

But Cassie cut him before he could spiral further. "Yes," she snapped, "Shut up, Potter."

What an idiot. Could he not see it?

Dumbledore could afford to take the fall.

He was untouchable, and old, and had half the wizarding world's loyalty regardless of what happened

Harry, though? The Ministry would gut him for this. And the worst part—he was handing them the knife.

"Yes, shut up, Potter!" barked Fudge, who was still ogling Dumbledore with a kind of horrified delight. "Well, well, well — I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead —"

"Instead you get to arrest me," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"

"Weasley!" cried Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, "Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink from the speed of his note-taking.

"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"

"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.

"Very well, then," said Fudge, now radiant with glee. "Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!"

Percy dashed from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Fudge turned back to Dumbledore. "You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"

"Ah," said Dumbledore gently, "yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."

"Snag?" said Fudge, his voice still vibrating with joy. "I see no snag, Dumbledore!"

"Well," said Dumbledore apologetically, "I'm afraid I do."

"Oh really?"

"Well — it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to — what is the phrase? 'Come quietly' I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course —but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole list of things I would rather be doing."

Umbridge's face was growing steadily redder, she looked as though she was being filled with boiling water. Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a very silly expression on his face, as though he had just been stunned by a sudden blow and could not quite believe it had happened. He made a small choking noise and then looked around at Kingsley and the man with short gray hair, who alone of everyone in the room had remained entirely silent so far. The latter gave Fudge a reassuring nod and moved forward a little, away from the wall. '

Cassiopeia, crossed her arms. One brow arched.

Dumbledore was going to flee?

She hadn't expected that. Or had she?

And she wasn't sure whether she was impressed... or disappointed.

Now this is a show, she thought.

And for the first time since entering the room, Cassie let herself smirk openly

Cassie saw the gray haired man's hand drift, almost casually, toward his pocket. 

"Don't be silly, Dawlish," said Dumbledore kindly. "I'm sure you are an excellent Auror, I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your N.E.W.T.s, but if you attempt to — er — 'bringme in' by force, I will have to hurt you."

The man called Dawlish blinked, looking rather foolish. He lookedtoward Fudge again, but this time seemed to be hoping for a clue as to what to do next.

"So," sneered Fudge, recovering himself, "you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you,Dumbledore?"

"Merlin's beard, no," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Not unless youare foolish enough to force me to."

"He will not be single-handed!" said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.

"Oh yes he will, Minerva!" said Dumbledore sharply. "Hogwarts needs you"

"Enough of this rubbish!" said Fudge, pulling out his own wand."Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!"

A streak of silver light flashed around the room. There was a bang like a gunshot, and the floor trembled.

On instinct, she spun a shield, and crouched low beneath it

 A flurry of portraits screamed in protest. Glass shattered. Someone shrieked. Another body hit the ground with a violent crash right in front of her. Dust spread like fog. A groan. A thud. Then—

Silence.

She waited one breath. Two.

The ash began to settle.

Across the chaos of the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore stood, tall. His eyes swept the room calmly, despite the wreckage — Umbridge crumpled near a smashed silver instrument, Fudge knocked flat against the hearth, Dawlish twitching by a bookshelf, Kingsley perfectly still but breathing.

Cassie stood slowly, the dust clinging to her sleeves. She hadn't been hit. Of course not. She was too fast for that.

She adjusted her grip on her wand and tilted her head.

Dumbledore looked at her — not long, not dramatically. Just one glance. One second of quiet, impossible acknowledgment.

She didn't return the look. Not exactly. But her chin rose a little.

So this is how he flees, she thought.

Just like that.

He turned to McGonagall, "Unfortunately, I had to stun Kingsley too," Dumbledore said mildly. "It would have looked suspicious otherwise."

Cassie's eyes flicked to Kingsley. He'd gone down clean — convincing.

"He was remarkably quick on the uptake," Dumbledore continued. "Modifying Miss Edgecombe's memory while everyone was focused on Marietta's face... quite elegant. Do thank him for me, won't you, Minerva?"

"Now, they'll be up shortly," Dumbledore said briskly. "It's best they believe we didn't speak. Act as though they simply collapsed, stunned mid-chaos. They won't remember the last few minutes."

He turned to McGonagall. "Where will you go?" she asked . "Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh no," Dumbledore smiled, almost grim. "I'm not hiding."

"Fudge will regret dislodging me from Hogwarts. I promise you that."

Cassie's expression didn't flicker.

He was repositioning.

Behind them, Harry made a sound — choked, guilty, idiot

"Professor—" he started.

Cassie rolled her eyes skyward.

Not now, Potter.

But Dumbledore cut him off before he could say another word." Listen to me, Harry," he said urgently, "you must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly every night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams — you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me —"

The man called Dawlish was stirring.

Dumbledore seized Harry's wrist. .

Cassie's eyes narrowed.

She couldn't hear what he said.

But she didn't need to. Because Harry's face changed. His jaw clenched. The muscles in his cheek spasmed. For half a second — no longer — his eyes shifted into something that did not belong on a fifth-year-old boy. Something colder. Something not entirely him. Cruelty.

It wasn't obvious
But it was wrong.

Something in her stomach coiled.

Fawkes circled the office and swooped low over him. Dumbledore released Harry, raised his hand, and grasped the phoenix's long golden tail. There was a flash of fire and the pair of them had gone.

"Where is he?" yelled Fudge, pushing himself up from the ground. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!" shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet."

Well, he can't have Disapparated!" cried Umbridge. "You can't inside this school —"

"The stairs!" cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Umbridge.

Fudge hesitated, then got to his feet slowly, brushing dust from his front. There was a long and painful silence. " Well, Minerva," said Fudge nastily, straightening his torn shirtsleeve, "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."

"You think so, do you?" said Professor McGonagall scornfully.

Fudge didn't reply. He was glancing at Cassiopeia.

Cassie, who calmly rubbed her arm and winced — just enough. As if she were affected too. She kept her face half-tilted toward the floor, like embarrassed

"Well, Miss Black," said Fudge, stepping toward her now with a new found graciousness, "you've been a tremendous help. A model student. I'll ensure Madam Umbridge rewards you... appropriately."

Cassie looked up slowly. Her lips curved into something shaped like a smile. "Oh, thank you, Minister," she said sweetly. "Anything for the Ministry."

Her voice dipped on the last word as if it were forced. But Fudge didn't catch it. Of course he didn't.

Harry, also didn't. From the far side of the wrecked desk, his head snapped toward her. He looked at her like she'd just slapped him. Very  cant believe you betrayed us look

McGonagall didn't say anything. But the tightness around her eyes said everything.

Cassie turned back to Fudge with her most charming, practiced smile. "If I may, Minister," she said smoothly, "I know it's been a long night for everyone, but perhaps you might consider reducing our punishment?" She gave Harry a sidelong glance — "We were at fault, yes, but you'd understand, I'm sure, how... persuasive the Headmaster can be. With words."

Fudge positively beamed. "Of course, my dear. Of course. That's what makes this whole thing so insidious, isn't it? Manipulating bright young minds—" he turned to McGonagall with a smug flourish, "—fortunately, not all of them so easily misled."

McGonagall just narrowed her eyes

"You'd better get those three off to bed," Fudge said pointing toward Harry, Marietta, and Cassiopeia —

McGonagall didn't speak. gHer lips thinned into a line and jerked her chin at them.

"Come."

Marietta trudged off immediately, not waiting for the others. She barely looked up. Just turned the corner and vanished down the hall toward Ravenclaw Tower,

Cassie didn't move until Harry did. He didn't look at her. Not once. She walked ahead of him — not beside. McGonagall said nothing. She didn't even ask.

And then—

Just around the next bend, before the stairs could split them, a figure stepped into view.

Cassie clocked him first.

Kingsley Shacklebolt 

looking straight at her "Hell of a move, kid," he said.

Cassie's mouth twitched. "Wasn't that complicated."

"Didn't say it was." He paused. "Just smart."

Cassie just nodded in acknowledgement 

 I don't believe we've met," he said, extending a hand. "Shacklebolt."

"I know." Cassie shook it once, "Black. Cassiopeia Black."

He paused arching his brows "That explains a lot."

Cassie didn't blink. "I could say the same."

Behind her, Harry was silent. But McGonagall stepped forward  "You should've let him handle it," she said sharply. Just the tone of someone who'd seen far too many students act like adults far too young.

Cassie didn't flinch.

Didn't argue either.

She just pressed a hand to her chest — dramatic — and muttered, "I handled it just as well, Minnie. Would you have preferred I let the ancient chess master play another round of human sacrifice?"

McGonagall's mouth pressed into a line. "He would have protect—"

Cassie cut her off. "He would have protected himself. Like he always does."

Harry flinched.

"And you all let him," Cassie continued. "Every damn time. He plays his little games and you all clap like good little soldiers."

McGonagall's eyes flashed. "That's enough—"

"No, it's really not," Cassie snapped. "Because if I hadn't said anything, we'd all be lined up like pawns and I would have probably taken the hit. Again. And your golden ghost of a headmaster would've stood there and let it happen."

The corridor was still She started walking calling over her shoulder "You all keep waiting for him to save you."

She smirked. "Let me know how that works out."

Then she was gone.

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

DONT WE ALL LOVE A GOOD DUMBLY BASHING

THIS PART FROM THE BOOK WAS KIND OF TRICKY TO SHIFT TO SO CASSIE IS MC- BUT I THINK I DID A PRETTY OK JOB?
JUST KIDDING I LOV WHAT I DID

IM PLANNING TO END YEAR 5 IN 3-4 CHAPS (i think im not sure)

But the chapters will be long so it might take time- ill mostly prepare 80% of all remaining drafts and post the chaps with lesser time gaps or simultaneously

THIS CHAP- THE MAIN PART WAS MOSTLY TAKEN DIRECTLY FROM THE BOOK THATS WHY I AM POSTING THIS SO FAST BUT I DID HAVE TO SWITCH AROUND WITH WHO SAID WHAT DIALOGUE AND ADDING SM VIEW POINTS AND DIALOGUES

aaand- 

love yall

till next time

mxriddle