The Serpent and the Eagle

Interlude - Star-cross'd Lovers

[Today]

[The Smashing Pumpkins]

Today is the greatest
Day I've ever known
Can't live for tomorrow,
Tomorrow's much too long
I'll burn my eyes out
Before I get out

I wanted more
Than life could ever grant me
Bored by the chore
Of saving face

Today is the greatest
Day I've ever known
Can't wait for tomorrow
I might not have that long
I'll tear my heart out
Before I get out

Pink ribbon scars
That never forget
I tried so hard
To cleanse these regrets
My angel wings
Were bruised and restrained
My belly stings

Today is
Today is
Today is
The greatest day

I want to turn you on
I want to turn you on
I want to turn you on
I want to turn you

Today is the greatest
Today is the greatest day
Today is the greatest day
That I have ever really known

Outside St. Mungo's, London - 1861

'Take care of yourself, won't you Cassandra?' the ward sister asked.

Cassandra smiled peaceably and replied, 'I wouldn't dream of doing anything else. And I promise to come back and visit you all!'

The Healers hugged their former patient goodbye, many of them teary-eyed. Cassandra read their palms and promised them all a happy future, which in some cases would never come true.

'Make sure you don't try anything more taxing than palmistry, Miss Trelawney!' the senior Healer grumbled.

'Of course, Mister Feyness,' Cassandra said, throwing her eyes heavenward.

As Cassandra left the hospital for the first time in six years she inhaled deeply.

London hadn't changed much in recent years.

Cassandra could not shake off the feeling that she had.

Cassandra glanced nervously around her, pulling her grey cloak tightly around her. The Victorian dress she wore irritated her in its lack of beauty, but she would have to wait until she could reach Diagon Alley to buy something more appropriate.

'Excuse me, miss...are you looking for me?' came a voice. It was deep and rich, and as pleasant to listen to as one of Beethoven's sonatas. Somehow, though, it was vaguely familiar...

Cassandra's head snapped up sharply, and her eyes widened in delight when she realised who it was.

'Albus!' she laughed, rushing to him.

'Hello, Cassandra,' he said happily, kissing her hand in greeting.

'Let me look at you,' she insisted, taking a step back.

He was tall and willowy, with a short auburn beard and moustache to match. His merry blue eyes had lost none of their sparkle or mischief, and they still rested behind those wonderfully unusual half-moon spectacles. He was dressed conservatively in the Muggle fashion, in a gentleman's top hat and tails, complete with a staff.

'You look wonderful, Albus,' she confessed.

'Cassandra, you look dazzling, as always,' Albus replied.

'What on earth are you doing here?' she asked.

'Waiting for you,' Albus replied. 'The Ministry received word that you were to be discharged, so I decided I would have to meet you when you left.'

Cassandra raised her eyebrows.

'And why should the Ministry involve itself with me?' she asked lightly.

Albus shrugged. 'You've filled up their prophecy section for the next hundred years,' he said with a merry smile. 'I daresay that they want to make sure you don't cause more work for them.'

'You're as saucy as ever!' she laughed.

'And you, my dear, are even more suspicious than I recall.'

'It has been four years, Albus,' she murmured. 'People do change...' she trailed off, and glanced away. Some things apparently still haunted her. 'And now you work for the Ministry!' she added quickly with false brightness. 'What exactly do you do there?'

'I am working in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, my dear,' Albus said softly. 'I'm currently experimenting on how dragon's blood can be used.'

'Well, it certainly sounds as if you have a glittering career ahead of you,' Cassandra replied, a little ruefully.

'Come, we have an appointment with Gringott's,' Dumbledore said, offering his arm to Cassandra.

'Why?' Cassandra asked, allowing Albus to steer her towards Diagon Alley.

'Well, of course you will wish to reopen your account there?' Albus asked.

'Naturally,' Cassandra agreed.

They passed a group of Muggle students outside a café, all of them passionately debating their Prime Minister William Gladstone and the Russian Tsar Alexander II's emancipation of the serfs, while some were discussing the illustrious author George Eliot's latest book Silas Marner, criticising the use of colloquial language and others fiercely defending its realism.

'Muggles!' Dumbledore said fondly, watching them through his glasses.

'You like them?' Cassandra asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

'Well, ome of them are a little chewy...' Albus teased.

'Albus...' Cassandra grumbled.

'Forgive me,' he said, abashed.

'Already forgotten!' she chirruped merrily. 'Why, I feel as free as a bird in the summer sky!'

They rounded a corner and recognised the sign for The Leaky Cauldron.

Albus watched her rush towards it. She was obviously anxious to be back amongst normal wizards and witches again. He could hardly blame her.

Although, there was one thing he blamed her for... The cruel way she cast him out of that ward four years ago had rankled him badly. He sought no revenge, despite how wounded his soul had felt. She could have torn out his heart and trampled on it, such was the feeling of rejection.

She pushed open the door of the public house and entered the establishment.

Nobody batted an eye as she and Albus went to the rear door.

'Good afternoon, Mister Dumbledore!' called the barman.

'Good afternoon, sir!' Dumbledore replied.

They entered the rear alley without another word, and Cassandra tapped her newly returned wand against the appropriate bricks.

Nothing happened.

'What is wrong with this useless old thing?' Cassandra snapped.

'Nothing,' Albus replied courteously. 'You merely hit the wrong brick. Try again.'

He said it with such a gentle compassion that Cassandra felt her heart surge with love as though it were an empty water skin being filled to the brim.

She turned to him fully, and noted the curious look that played across his features.

'Why do we bother with this charade?' she asked him earnestly.

'Oh...' Dumbledore said, his eyes directed to the ground. 'So you have finally decided to admit that you love me, rather than beating around the bush.'

It was Cassandra's turn to be shamefaced.

'I am so, so sorry about that, Albus!' she mourned. 'And I paid for it during those following years. You were the only person who ever visited me while I was there, did you know that?'

'But why?' Albus asked, his face pained. 'Why did you cast me out?'

'I was frightened, I suppose,' she confessed. 'You were just so much younger than me that I wanted to...I mean, I...'

She trailed off into a sullen silence.

'I do love you, Albus,' she whispered.

'Cassandra...' Albus said, stepping forward and placing his hands gently on her shoulders. 'Didn't you know that I have always loved you?'

She looked up, and standing on her tiptoes, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

Dumbledore described it once in his journal.

"Kissing Cassandra (properly) was...well, a little bit like the way I feel when I wake up halfway through a Saturday with nothing to do except loaf around and be stupidly happy, and a little like the warm snuggley feeling I get inside my heart and stomach at Christmas and I watch happy children embrace their parents, and it was such a vivid feeling to me that now I am still amazed. I imagined that this was where my journey had begun and would end, and that this is it, solid and real and breathing and here and now..."

Without realising it, his hands were caught in her hair, hers around his waist, and now his lips slid from her mouth down to her neck, nibbling playfully at her chin and sending tremors from her hips up her spine and across her shoulders. She was crooning gently to him, stroking his auburn curls and snuggling against him in a manner that was unheard of in Victorian England, at least while out of doors.

Simultaneously, they broke apart, faces flushed and feeling more than a little rumpled.

'Now, milady,' Albus said softly. 'Shall you rejoin the magical community now or later?'

She laughed appreciatively.

'Oh, definitely now!'

Chapter Five - Can People Really Fall In Love So Fast?

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - 1996

They were sitting in the Common Room, fresh from the feast. The ghastly weather had continued into the evening, and the first years were gathered in the corner, starting at each thunderclap. The fire was blazing, and Ron and Hermione had managed to get the good seats next to the fireplace.

Hermione was trying to learn off the ingredients for a particularly tricky potion, while Ron was stroking Crookshanks in an absentminded fashion.

'It's so good to be back!' Ron said happily.

'It is, isn't it?' Hermione agreed.

'I wonder why Lupin was reinstated as Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher?' Ron pondered.

'Didn't you hear?' Hermione tutted.

'Well, evidently I didn't,' Ron replied petulantly.

'Oh, shut up, Ron,' Hermione said patiently. 'Umbridge and Fudge's Educational Decrees were all scrapped, and none of the parents (except Malfoy's, of course) objected to having a werewolf as a teacher. Plus that, Dumbledore couldn't find anyone else willing to take on the job.'

Ron watched her, open-mouthed in amazement.

'How do you know all of this?'

'Well, if you had of listened on the train when we were in the Prefect's carriage...' Hermione said icily. Her tone was beginning to sound like she wanted to lecture him, so he quickly changed the subject.

'Can you believe Cho was made Head Girl?' he asked.

'Mmmm,' Hermione replied, non-committal. 'I saw Draco with her earlier.'

'Really?' Ron asked. 'What were they doing?'

'Heading towards the Ravenclaw common room, looking like a pair of loved-up idiots,' she said scathingly.

Ron's face contorted in an alarming combination of amusement and distaste.

'You don't think they're...' he asked.

'I doubt it.' Hermione underlined a sentence in her book, elegantly nibbling the end of her eagle feather quill. 'Can you imagine it though? The two of them, as bold as brass cavorting all over Hogwarts! Promise me Ron, if I ever act like a floozy with anyone you'll slap me?'

'You can count on it,' Ron said, a little bitterly. 'It's not like you have anyone to be a floozy with, anyway...' he added under his breath. Crookshanks flexed his claws into Ron's thigh, almost as if he knew that Ron was teasing his mistress.

'Jolly good, then.' Hermione nodded and returned to her book.

Ron shoved Crookshanks off his lap and turned to her. Resentful, the cat swiped at his shins and trotted over to rest at Hermione's feet.

'You don't have anyone to be a floozy with, though, do you?' he asked anxiously.

'I don't know Ron. Sometimes it's like that,' she said irritably, turning the pages of her book.

'Oh, great,' Ron muttered. 'She's got her brain on automatic again.'

'I'm sure Professor Snape acts like a hussy whenever you're around, anyway,' Ron said out loud, careful to gauge Hermione's reaction.

She began to nod in agreement, but her brain processed Ron's words too quickly.

'That's not funny, Ron,' she scolded. 'Even if you hadn't picked a good-looking teacher, I wouldn't have minded as much...but Snape?'

'I needed to catch your attention,' he said dryly. 'D'you think Harry's ok?'

Harry was nowhere to be found, despite Professor McGonagall's promise that she would go looking for him.

Hermione closed her Advanced Potions book with a little sigh.

'No, Ron,' she replied, shaking her head. 'Something obviously frightened him badly. I only wish I knew where he is!'

'Wait a minute...' Ron said. 'The Room of Requirement!'

'Ron, that's brilliant!' Hermione enthused, leaping to her feet. 'Come on, we have to go to him now.'

She nearly stood on Crookshanks tail as she stepped forward, frightening both herself and her pet at once. Crookshanks' fur stood on end, his eyes reflecting the flames from the fireplace. Hissing angrily at Hermione, he slunk away under the seats.

'Oh, poor Crookshanks!' Hermione murmured. 'I'm sorry.'

'Er, I can't go now,' Ron said, his face turning pink.

'Why ever not?' Hermione asked.

'Well, I don't know about you, Hermione, but tartan bedroom slippers don't seem to me to be the best choice for running around Hogwarts in...'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Harry Potter?'

'Go away.'

'I thought I'd find you here,' Professor McGonagall said briskly. 'What on earth is wrong with you, Potter?'

Harry's voice was muffled in it response, but his meaning was clear.

'I will come out, Professor, when I am ready. Please do not disturb me until then.'

'You gave us all a scare, Potter,' she said.

'It was not my intention.'

'Very well then, Potter,' she said stiffly. 'As soon as you emerge, please go to the Headmaster's Office immediately. He wishes to discuss Occlumency lessons with you.'

A stifled peal of bitter laughter came from the room. Reluctantly, the head of Gryffindor House retreated.

She had a great deal of affection for Potter, no matter how much she tried to deny any favouritism. He was a sensitive boy, always looking out for others and standing up for those weaker than himself and giving as good as he got to Slytherins.

She shook her head sadly, wondering if Lily and James could see him now, and if they could would they be proud of him. She decided that she would got to the Gryffindor Common Room and find Ron and Hermione. She'd tell them he was safe, at any rate.

Harry was trying desperately to sort out his head.

Images crowded it incessantly, nightmarish visions of Sirius falling through the Veil, over and over again; Cho snogging Draco as though she were in love with him; Ginny stroking his head fondly; Gabrielle Delacour's eyes burning red...

'Stop it!' Harry yelped.

He got to his feet and looked into the Foe Glass once more. The same shadowy figure with red glints for eyes still skulked in its depths. It loomed suddenly, its eyes becoming horribly clear and then fading until they were a faintish pink.

Harry turned away from the image and passed his palm across his forehead. His black hair was coated with fear-induced sweat, and it stuck at awkward angles as he pushed it out of his eyes.

Suddenly, the door shook on its hinges as something, or someone pounded against it.

'Harry!' Hermione said. 'Come out of there right now!'

'Come on, mate, what are you up to?' Ron asked.

'I want to be left alone!' Harry snapped.

'Can you just tell us what happened, Harry?' Hermione questioned. 'Without the attitude?'

'What attitude?' Harry demanded.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Honestly, Harry!' she grumbled. 'You've been like a hippogriff with a headache today, and it's starting to get on my nerves. As a matter of fact, it's getting on everyone's nerves.'

Harry flung open the door angrily.

'Oh yeah?' he snarled, his face flushed.

'Wow!' Ron gasped, peering inside the room. 'Harry, what's with all the dark detectors? You're even worse than Moody!'

Harry turned a deeper shade of red and replied, 'Nothing. It's just...'

'Just what?' Hermione pressed. 'Whatever it is, Harry, we'll understand.'

Harry thought about this.

Perhaps they would understand, and then again, maybe they wouldn't. If he were perfectly honest with himself, he actually found it difficult to believe that Voldemort was manipulating a little girl to the point where he could penetrate the sanctuary of Hogwarts and even dwell in Gryffindor Tower at night, in Hermione's very dormitory! And what would Ron think? He'd find it so difficult to believe that the beautiful Fleur Delacour's precious baby sister was in league with the Dark Lord. He'd think Harry had completely and utterly lost it!

And after all of this, what if he, Harry, had been mistaken about what he had seen reflected in her eyes? Should he ask Dumbledore, or even trouble Lupin with this information?

Eventually, Harry came to the only rational conclusion he could at that time.

'I was upset about Sirius,' he said lamely. 'When Gabrielle mentioned the Triwizard Tournament, she reminded me of Cedric...and how worried Sirius was...'

He was beginning to get really choked up now. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he added quickly, 'I didn't want anyone to see me crying, so I ran off up here.'

'Oh, Harry!' Hermione said sadly, throwing her arms about him and squeezing him tightly.

'Er, Hermione? You're kind of crushing me...' Harry wheezed.

'Harry, you don't have to hide it all the time!' Hermione gushed. 'I'm just as upset about Sirius as you are, maybe not as much, but you know what I mean...and - and I'm sure Ron is just the same - and we all loved him, and it was just so awful...'

Hermione trailed off and cleared her throat. 'What I mean is,' she went on in a much calmer tone, 'is that you can talk to us. Don't lock yourself away from us. We are your friends, Harry! Whatever goes on, you can share it with us. Right, Ron?'

'Er, right,' Ron agreed. 'I think you covered everything, except one thing.'

'And what's that?' Harry asked.

'That we need sugar therapy. Right now!' Ron said with a cheeky grin.

'The kitchens?' Hermione asked.

'Of course!' Harry replied.

The Trio were back, stalking the Hogwarts corridors for bad guys and raiding the kitchens whenever they thought evil was taking a bathroom break. Ron was in his pyjamas and wearing a housecoat, while Hermione was still in her uniform...but that didn't matter. They were like badges of honour, somehow, despite the fact that Ron's flannel nightwear was unlikely to instil fear into anyone's heart.

They were all three of them unlikely heroes...the boy with messy hair and spectacles, the gangling redhead and the petite brunette brainiac.

After all, Harry thought, it's what we've always been. It's what we've always done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Well, hello there Miss Chang.'

'Draco!' Cho gasped. 'What the heck are you doing here?'

Draco paused, taking stock of his exact location and position.

'I appear to be seated on a very handsome, brand-new Firebolt, hovering directly outside your bedroom window, in the dead of night, while wearing a disillusionment charm to deter any prying teachers or Hogwarts staff.'

'Yeah, that's pretty much what I thought,' Cho said dryly. 'But what do you want?'

'Oh, that's polite!' Draco teased. 'I only wanted to visit you.'

Cho blinked rapidly in surprise.

'Visit me? In the dead of night...on a broomstick?' she said.

'Yep,' Draco said blithely.

Cho giggled.

'Would you like to come inside?' she asked.

'No,' Draco said simply. 'I told you already; there'll be no quickies between us! It's the full Draco Treatment for you, my dear...and I want you to enjoy every delicious, soul shaking moment that you spend in the fully-naked company of the gorgeous Mister Malfoy.'

Cho raised an eyebrow delicately. 'All I can say is, it's Modesty Man, with the power to appear modest.'

'Oh, of course!' Draco chuckled. 'I am the most modest and iron-willed Malfoy on record. The fact that I'm not transfixed before the nearest mirror takes a great deal of self-control.'

'I'm sure,' Cho said fondly. 'Might I be allowed to see what the big deal is all about?'

'That depends...' Draco said, flying his broomstick closer to her. He flew as elegantly as though he were gliding through water on a vessel commanded by his thoughts.

'On what?' Cho asked with a smile.

'On whether or not a single passionate kiss will satisfy you,' Draco sighed.

'Are you implying that I am...easy?' Cho asked jokingly, hands akimbo on her hips and her jaw dropping in mock surprise.

'Oh, I wouldn't say that!' Draco protested. 'However, I have always preferred my women to be...experienced.'

'Experience this!' Cho declared, seizing him by his silk shirt with both hands and kissing him.

It was deep, and seemed to last for hours.

'Oh,' Draco said eventually. 'That was an experience in my book!'

Cho giggled.

'Parting is such a sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight 'til it be morrow,' Draco said poetically, blowing a kiss as he steered his broom through her open window.

'From Romeo and Juliet, the balcony scene!' Cho replied in delight.

'Think fast, Seeker girl!' Draco laughed, tossing a slim volume through the window to her.

Cho looked at it carefully. It was her own copy of Shakespeare's classic romantic tragedy.

'How did you get that?' she demanded.

'I am a man of many talents,' Draco said languidly. 'My fingers work fast. By the way, if you check, you'll find your bra is undone. Adieu, my love!'

With that elegant riposte, he was gone.

Cho was not so much outraged that he had uncaught her bra (and he really had, too!). Nor was she aggravated that he had stolen her book.

No, what caught her was that he seemed to be falling in love with her, despite their previous agreement to keep sentiment out of the relationship!

'I'll get him for this in the morning!' she said irritably, returning to her bed.

And despite herself, she could not resist a small smile as she dozed off, nor could she escape the dreams she had of him all night long.