The Snake Eye

Chapter Four: The Living Reminder.

The dust of life,

conceived in Hell

and born in strife.

The living reminder

of all we failed to do.

'Bui Doi' from Miss Saigon

The morning of the second of September was heavy with cloud and not long after breakfast the rain began to fall. Normally this would simply have been depressing; today it was a direct irritation as Ginny's first lesson was Herbology and she had to walk through the rain to the greenhouses.

Professor Sprout was disgustingly cheerful for the first morning of term. The small witch perched on her stool as the class filed in. They sat on the wooden stools, dripping, and wondering why there was no corridor straight through from the castle since the greenhouses almost touched the east wing, a corridor that would have saved them all trekking up to Madam Pomfrey that evening for syrup to ease their chills.

"This year we will be concentrating on plants not native to the British Isles. This means that you will be mainly working in the tropical house - leave your woolen robes behind," Professor Sprout's announcement was greeted with a cheer of welcome.

"Then maybe we can convince her to take us on a trip away from this dreary Scottish weather," Nicole whispered to Ginny under her breath.

"These large leaved plants that you have in pots in front of you are torris, or fireseed plants. Between now and Christmas you will study and tend these small shrubs. And they take a lot of work - they must have their roots drenched in water every twelve hours to prevent them from overheating. A rota will be set up of who is responsible to come in before lessons and after supper to do this." She stopped and glared around the room at the assembled Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. "Great care must be taken with these plants. A small fire can grow out of hand easily in a room full of torres. No naked flames are to be lit within a hundred yards of the greenhouses." Then her face relaxed back into its regular smile. "But you are fifth years now. I'm sure I shall have no problems."

Each pair of pupils was assigned a plant. Luckily, thought Ginny, Professor Sprout was one of the teachers who believed pupils would work best if they could chose who they worked with, so half an hour later she and Mili, Nicole and Helena were sitting facing each other at a counter top in the corner of the room. Mili and Helena were carefully measuring proteins into small glass jugs while Nicole read to Ginny how to prune her torris ready for transplanting. A crash from the other side of the hall made them all look up. Professor Sprout was across the room and out into the corridor before the others put down their work. As they entered the further greenhouse they could see one of the huge panes of glass had been shattered across the floor and workbenches. Sprawled on the stone was the robed figure of a girl, who, as she rose untidily, Ginny recognised as Allison Jones a fourth year Gryffindor that Harry had, only the previous evening been debating with Katie Bell about inviting onto the Quidditch team. Outside the window was Madam Hooch's face, flushed from running.

"Allison? Oh my! What happened!?" Professor Sprout was carefully removing the largest pieces of glass from the girl and handing her over to Nicole.

"I think she is only shaken up and scratched. But take her up to Madam Pomfrey, dear. She must have fallen from quite a height." Nicole put her arm around the girl, who was now crying with sobbing gasps, and led her out of the greenhouse.

"She didn't fall though," exclaimed Madam Hooch. Now a tribe of fourth year girls were materialising at the window behind her. "Her broom went out of control. It shook at first, but when she tried to land to examine it it swept up high and then aimed for this window and that was it. I have never seen anything like it."

"She was cursed!" one girl cried shrilly.

"Don't be silly," she was told by another, haughtily. "Brooms have anti-curse charms."

Ginny thought back to Ron's description of Harry's cursed broom back before she had entered Hogwarts. She would need to ask him - but it didn't sound like the same thing. From what she remembered Harry's broom had just gone mad, it hadn't made a route of it's own. She made a mental note to ask the boys about it.

Madam Hooch was herding away her class and Professor Sprout, having passed on a message to the headmaster via a Hufflepuff boy, decided that the excitement was over and it was time to continue with their lesson.

***

Harry had been the proud receiver of four A*, three As, three Bs and a C in his OWLs and had consequently chosen to study Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures as his NEWT subjects, (much to the irritation of Professor McGonagall, as Transfiguration was his fourth A*). Now, as he headed towards the dungeons Harry wondered what had possessed him to take Snape's subject.

There were only eight in the Potions classroom and five of them were Slytherins. Other than Harry and Ron, only Dean Thomas of the Gryffindors had taken Potions.

The three chose to sit together on one side of the classroom as far away as possible from Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and two other stony-faced Slytherin boys.

Snape entered from his workroom with a swish of his black robes and settled the class with his mere presence. "Well, well, the brave few return..." he sneered. "Be prepared to work. Forget everything I have ever taught you - those were simple amalgamations a four year old could produce under the correct instruction. Now you will begin to truly study the art of brewing a potion, and study you will. By the end of next year you will be able to identify by the minute variations in the scents between a composite formed with the toe hairs of a Swedish Short-Snout as opposed to a Romanian Longhorn... Roth! You must remember that you are not an OWL student anymore and drawing cartoons on your page is not a suitable pursuit for a NEWT student. Do you understand? And don't think that you can cover them simply by turning the page. How old are you boy? Don't answer that. But this you can answer: why are you in my classroom?"

The boy looked blank. Then, rather than face more of Snape's cold, quiet wrath, he ventured, "To study a NEWT in Potions?"

"Unfortunately for you that answer is incorrect. You are no longer studying a NEWT in Potions. Go report to Professor Dumbledore that you have reconsidered your options and decided Potions is not for you. Goodbye."

And with this he turned to the cupboard to retrieve textbooks. Harry was astounded. Not 'you have lost twenty points for Slytherin' or even 'you have lost fifty points for Slytherin' but 'you are no longer studying a NEWT in Potions'. Harry thought he would hardly dare breathe in this lesson, and when he exchanged a glance with Ron he could see his best friend was thinking exactly the same thing. Even the ever-suave Malfoy looked shaken at this.

"Now. We are down to the select few who wish to learn. Study hard and you shall be rewarded with knowledge." Harry thought that what looked like a grimace might be the hint of a smile. He wasn't sure which chilled him more.

***

It wasn't until the last lesson of the day that the fifth year had Care of Magical Creatures. Ginny was unsure how she would react to a lesson taught by her brother - particularly by her favourite brother. But she needn't have worried. Charlie was a cheerful and easygoing as she knew him to be and soon had the class completely under his spell. As they left the room, eagerly chatting about their project on salamanders, Ginny caught her brother's eye and he rewarded her with a huge grin, betraying his relief that the lesson had gone well. Suddenly Ginny felt better, knowing that Charlie had been nervous too.

She headed up the stairs to the common room, passing Hermione coming out of the Charms classroom. As the older girl was also headed towards Gryffindor Tower they fell in step. "How is it going?" Ginny asked, knowing that her friend was trying to tackle four NEWT subjects instead of the usual three.

"Fine. We are studying Mokes with Charlie... Professor Weasley' she corrected herself. "And that seems like it will be really interesting. He said he might be able to bring us a dragon one lesson if he can get permission from the Ministry. I haven't had Transfiguration yet, but it's taught by Professor McGonagall so it should be interesting. She said that we might look at animagus transformations during the course, which I think would be fascinating. And Advanced Charms will be challenging but I think I can learn it." Here she sighed, "The only problem will be Defence Against the Dark Arts I'm afraid. It's not the teacher, although she doesn't seem terribly warm. I don't enjoy Defence Against the Dark Arts anyway, but I know that it might be necessary now that..." she lowered her voice, "Now that You-Know-Who is around again. And being Harry's friend I cant be to careful..." she sighed again. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to the boys just because I didn't take DADA." The two girls walked on in silence for a while and then Hermione continued. "And other than Care of Magical Creatures it is the only lesson I share with Draco Malfoy." Ginny groaned in commiseration. "He was sucking up to Professor Lavery so badly! I wanted to hit him and shake some sense into her. And then when she praised him and awarded him points he turned to look at me with one of his perfect eyebrows raised disdainfully as if to say 'I got points before you Mudblood!'"

Ginny laughed. "That's probably exactly what he wanted you to feel. Don't rise to the bait, Hermione. Isn't that what you've always told me? We both know what a slimy creep he is. In fact I can't believe we are even wasting our breath talking about him. Let's talk about something more attractive... like... Tobey Hart." Both girls laughed, Malfoy effectively erased from their thoughts.

***

The object of their scorn was at this point sprawled on a large black and white rug in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room. He had several heavy textbooks open around him and was writing his Potions homework, the dark ink from his quill leaving curling wet trails across the light paper. A pair of feet came into his line of vision and Draco looked up in annoyance, the irritation disappearing a fraction too fast as he identified his visitor.

"Cassandra." His lips curled into a smile. "And what can I do for you?"

"Are you offering to assist another human being, Draco?" she teased in mock astonishment, her knees folding under her as she sank gracefully opposite him, carefully cutting out the light to his parchment so that he had no option but to continue talking to her or to get up and walk away rudely. She had noticed that over the last few months Draco had made a point of treating her politely, with the respect he accorded few, not even Blaise, his erstwhile girlfriend. Not that she was complaining: it made what she had to do easier - if she could encourage this civility she would.

Stretching her hand out towards his wrist in a plea, but knowing better than to touch him without permission, she asked, "Can I sleep in your room again? Only the nightmare keeps coming back..." she stopped, looking anxiously up at him through her lashes and holding her breath, knowing that this excuse was now stretched to its limit.

Perhaps it would be better if he said no, she thought, it would be easier to slip away. But harder to keep an eye on him. But then, his vanity would make him agree. Blaise would never let her sleep in Draco's room on her own, and Draco couldn't, wouldn't face his classmates knowing he had turned two girls out of his room. His pride was too costly, the prestige of knowing that they all knew that the girls had slept there - he was flattered, would never turn them away... she hoped. Cassandra thought it was strange that Draco had never wondered why she had asked to sleep in his room when she had nightmares instead of in with Blaise, or any of the others. Or why she hadn't asked to be moved to one of the few sixth-form dorms to continue sleeping as the younger pupils did. She supposed he thought it was only his due that she should want him. Well, if he wanted to think that she wasn't going to correct him. Not yet anyway. Not when it was so convenient.

"Of course you can," he smiled. "In fact why don't you and Blaise move your stuff into my room? - there is easily space for the three of us - and it saves the two of you walking around in your nightwear." Only Draco could get away with using the word 'nightwear' Cassandra thought. "That is unless you do not wish to make this arrangement permanent? Only the two of you spent more nights in my room over the last six weeks of term than you did in your own rooms."

Cassandra held her breath for a second hearing her heartbeats thudding as she quickly considered her options. How could she possibly tell them she had turned this down? - Especially as Draco would cut her loose rather than face her if she refused, and then what would she do. She had to stay in his favour until her job was done.

"Would you mind?" she simpered "That would be the perfect solution. You are such a gentleman..." She smiled at him again, wondering if she was overdoing it. But he looked flattered, so she rose and walked from the room leaving him alone once more with his potions homework.

***

For the first time since his birthday Harry woke having had a peaceful night's sleep. He showered and dressed, remembering to recover the pendant from the bedpost where he had hung it the night before, and headed down the corridor. Mel materialised at his feet and accompanied him out the portrait hole. Harry had learnt quickly that she was distressed if he kept her shut in at night but that she seemed happy to roam the castle on her own and would find him in the morning. Together they headed down the main staircase and out into the grounds towards the lake. It amused Harry that his kitten liked to follow him if he went out first thing in the morning, particularly since she would vanish for hours during the day. Originally he had been worried about leaving her when he went to lessons because she was so small and he was afraid she would lose a fight with any of the bigger cats. But the other cats left her alone, even Crookshanks left and room she was in, and Harry could never find Mel before he left for lessons: it was as though she could vanish at will. But then, he thought, it was a huge castle full of secret places he would never discover, even with the aid of the Marauders' Map.

The air was heavy and warm, plastering Harry's shirt to him. Unusual weather he thought. Although often one of the sunniest months of the year (second only to the May/ June exam period which was perversely always glorious) it was not normally hot - it just rained less. But here he was, at barely half past six in the morning, strolling along the path by the lake in radiant sunlight. He had never felt so tempted to swim in the water, something he had not tried since the Triwizard Championship.

Harry was often an early riser, but few in the school shared his love of these hours, which if anything made Harry enjoy them even more. He no longer experienced the obvious stares and whispers that had followed him in his first few years at school, but the new first years were still awed, and Harry like to get away from the crowds and just be with his friends, or completely alone.

He reached his favourite part of the walk, where the path bent and was obscured from the castle's view by trees. Here he could sit and know that no one was watching him. He settled against an oak tree, his elbows resting on his knees and stared, unseeing at the water in front of him, enjoying the solitude. Long minutes passed and Harry was aware that he was going to have to go up to school soon to get ready for breakfast when a splash and a yell caught his attention.

A silver tentacle was whipping up the water in a frenzy as it was attacked by a blur of honey-golden fur. "Mel!" Harry yelled. Searching for stones to throw at the sea creature before drawing his wand. His cat was holding off its attacker as best it could, but what had been a tentacle became a claw and then a hoof and then a tentacle again. Harry racked his brains trying to remember how to deal with a kelpie, because small as it appeared to be, Harry reasoned that this shape-shifting animal must be a kelpie; if not a full grown one.

"Ostentatio!" he shrieked, pointing his wand at what was now a sea serpent. Professor Moody had said that best way to defeat a kelpie was to make it take its original form. Although most commonly seen as a horse with a tail, kelpies were born looking like defenceless fish, and so it is to this shape they would revert under the Ostentus charm.

And it did, writhing briefly as a snake and then an otter, before sinking out of sight in confusion. But this was not what made Harry stare. In making the kelpie revert to its original form he had also hit his kitten with the spell, and was now faced with a very wet, very furious, very embarrassed Cassandra Avery dressed in her nightgown.

Harry was extremely glad that they were out of sight of the castle.

***

"My father was punished by Voldemort." She explained simply. "He said father did not remain loyal to him in the years that he was gone." The two were sitting side by side on the grass, Harry's cloak slung around Cassandra's shoulders. "My mother tried to stop me from being involved. I was born after Voldemort's downfall and she hoped that what my father had done would be forgotten. That is - she was not a supporter of his. I mean..."

Looking at Harry's confused face she started again. "My father was, is, a Death Eater. Why am I telling you this? Except now he works for Dumbledore trying to find out what the Dark Lord is planning. But since Voldemort - you don't mind me calling him that do you? - doesn't trust my father any more, Daddy asked me to try and help. Mother was always trying to protect me and keep me from being involved. But his followers killed her last year to threaten my father. So I want to be involved, I want to help destroy the man who killed my mother." Here her beautiful face contorted in hate. "So I am trying to become friends with Draco Malfoy, as his father is in the inner circle. I need to get in - and Draco might be the door. Unfortunately I can't stand him. And I am worried he has plans of his own, as he seems to be making it far too easy for me. Don't we have to head back now?"

Harry blinked. "Yes we do. And none of that explains why you were masquerading as my cat!"

"I am your cat. Sirius wanted me, since he knew I was an animagus, to be your pet."

"And I suppose you can't tell me why? Or how this is involved in your little Malfoy plan?"

"No I can't tell you. Not yet. Please trust me... go to Dumbledore... he will verify the part about my family. And I promise that you are nothing to do with the Malfoy thing. It is too completely separate things. And I am so exhausted having to live two lives! And so afraid of what will happen if he finds out!" And with this she fell into broken sobs from which Harry knew no way to comfort her.

***

During breakfast Harry found it difficult not to look across the hall at Cassandra sitting at the Slytherin table between Draco Malfoy and Martin Nott. He couldn't quite focus on what had happened, his mind running over and over the one sided conversations he had had with his cat, trying to work out which secrets he had divulged, whether or not he had ever undressed with Mel in the room, whether or not he had left he on her own where there were papers she shouldn't see. It wasn't that he didn't trust her exactly, but... well he didn't trust her: for all her explanations she was a Slytherin. He had debated with himself about going to see the headmaster, but had decided, at least for the meantime, against it.

A flutter of wings drew him out of his reverie as the post arrived. There was nothing for him, but then Harry did not expect anything. Ron began to read aloud passages from his letter from Bill describing the twins' plans to set up Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade. Ginny's face lit up at the prospect of visiting her brothers at the weekends. Harry himself felt pleased at the news, he had never truly believed that the boys would raise enough money but since they left school they had plied themselves into their business and the following months had apparently been fruitful.

A gasp from further down the table drew his attention. Mili's normally brown skin was as pale as he had ever seen, almost green under the melanin. With a choking noise she rose, dazed, from the table and stood staring at her mother for a heartbeat. The professor, so apparently engrossed in Charlie's words, did not notice as her daughter turned and fled the hall, closely followed by Ginny Weasley.

***

Mili, the letter read.

I don't know how to go about writing this letter. How do you write to a daughter you never knew you had?

I am your father. That much is fact. I don't know what your mother has told you about me. I am sorry I have missed your childhood. Until your mother returned to teaching I had heard no word from her for sixteen years. This is partially my fault and I would not want her to wholly take the blame. It was due to - unforeseen circumstances.

Has your mother never married? I am sorry you had no father during your childhood years and I know that I can never make this up to you, but I would like to come meet you now. My daughter. I can scarcely believe those words. Until your grandfather wrote to me, just weeks ago, to tell me of your existence I had never considered I was a father.

Tell your mother I am sorry. I cannot bear to write to her. I want you both to know I did not abandon you. I loved your mother, Mili. One day she may forgive me.

There was no signature.