CASSANDRA, or Memoires of an Heroine

CASSANDRA, or Memoires of an Heroine

Chapter I

'Why should I not publish my diary? I have often seen reminiscences of people I have never heard of, and I fail to see- because I do not happen to be a 'Somebody'- why my diary should not be interesting.' (Grossmith- 'The Diary of a Nobody')

The Book

Tuesday July 21st 2020, 5:57:42 p.m. An apple tree, Two Towers

I have decided, upon reaching eleven years of age, that it would be a good idea to keep a record of my pursuits. Not, as Xanthia would undoubtably say, my trivial pursuits(!), but of my daily routine which I have always found extremely interesting. I am sure, at least I hope, that others will also.

It is amazing the number of quotes there are about diaries when I come to actually look for them! Here is another I particularly like, from The Importance of Being Ernest by Oscar Wilde. (Oh, I do like that play!)

'You see, it is simply a very young girl's record of her own thoughts and impressions and consequently meant for publication.'

I'm not sure if I don't actually like that quote better than the one from Grossmith. After all, I'm not a Nobody. I'm a Somebody. You see, I'm Cassandra Potter. Cassandra Elizabeth Potter to be more exact.

You should have heard of me. If you have not, I am very suprised. Well, at least you'll be familiar with my surname. In every wizard's mind the name Potter should ring some sort of bell.

My father is very famous. He is Harry Potter and he has defeated the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort several times. (I am not afraid of saying his name. I think, after he has been dead quite a few years (since before I was born) that it is absolutely ridiculous for grown people to go around muttering 'You-Know-Who' and shaking their gossiping old heads like there's been a death or something. Xanthia once said to me that whenever someone says 'You-Know-Who' to her she always replies that she doesn't know who. She detests artifice of any kind.

My mother is quite well known too, though I believe not so much for what she has done than for what she is. She is very politically involved. She is head of a department and a member of the governing commitee. She's also the chief Hogwart's school govenor. She makes sure she has a say in everything and people like her very much.

After the fall of Voldemort she was one of the first to start helping to rebuild the country. She started with Dr. Longbottom of St. Mungo's the 'St. Mungo Charity Trust' specially designed to help the families of those who have in some way been sticken by Lord Voldemort.

My father was knighted by Queen Elizabeth some years ago for his behaviour respecting Voldemort. This actually makes my parents Sir Harry and Lady Potter.

The queen also gave Father a large country house in Derbyshire, near the small village of Brassington (near Buxton). It is a very fine neo-classical building made out of white stone. My parents called it Two Towers, though why I can't imagine as there isn't anything that looks remotely like a tower anywhere near it, though there're plenty of pillars. (It was originally called 'Brassington Hall' which Ron Weasley says he prefers. I rather like the name my parents gave it. It adds an air of mystery to it.)

I'm writing this in one of our apple trees near the back of the house and near the quiddich pitch. It's very quiet. Mother is in her office doing business. The last I saw of her, she was having a loud argument in French with Monsieur du Clé, the headmaster of Bauxbatons on the telephone. You could hear it everywhere. She seems to have shut the French windows now.

My father and Ron Weasley are testing out a broomstick on the pitch. My father works with a new company, Lightening Bolt. His job is testing new makes for speed, agility, balance etc. before they go on the market. The company's latest release is the Tornado 99, a competitor for the Nimbus XXX.

I'd like a Tornado. Father says I can have my own broom when I'm a second year. First years aren't allowed to have brooms unfortunately. I think, if I'm anything like my father that I'll be rather good at quidditch. I'd like to be a seeker like him.

I hope my Hogwarts letter arrives soon. I can't wait to get all my stuff. Especially my wand. I've never been looking forward to something so much! I'll be actually able to do magic! At last I'll be able to perform those spells I've been learning the theory of for the last ten years or so! I'll be able to wave a peice of wood, and something will happen! Magic is really a miracle.

It's Father's birthday in just over a week. Mother and I are taking him to an Appleby Arrows versus Chudley Cannons quidditch game with the Ron Weasleys, who are all firm Cannons fans. Father and I are just as fanatical about the Arrows and Mother says she is neutral, but I can tell she is secetly betraying the Potter idea and supports the Cannons. It should be an interesting game. (Of course, the Arrows will quite obviously win!) Actually, I should think of getting Father a present. Can't think of anything at the moment. Mother'll have an idea...

Well, I hear her calling. I suppose it's supper time. I think I'll write in this diary (well, it's only a couple of pieces of parchment at the moment) every day. I shan't miss a single day.

Cassandra E. Potter

Wednesday July 22st 2020, 3:12:34 p.m. bedroom, Two Towers

Father's bday present??!!

No Hogwarts letter.

Oboe practise? Violin practise?

Friday July 24st 2020, 11:21:56 a.m., sitting room, two Towers

Um... will chocolates do?? Or a book on something?

Where's that letter?

Will definitely practise one hour solid each instrument tomorrow.

Wednesday July 31st 2020, 7:24:39 p.m., bedroom, Two Towers

An excellent day. The quidditch match was great fun (we were in prime boxes). Naturally the Appleby Arrows won- 260 to 80! Their seeker's amazing! My hero!

I had a bet with Jack and Jill- now they owe me five sickles of pocket money! (Ha- knew we'd win!)

Martin accidentally trod on his glasses on the way into the stadium and was in a foul mood all day. He was even reading one of his textbooks during the picnic. I like reading, but I wouldn't read during a birthday party. Jack and Jill and I teased him mercilessly about it until Mother got really angry. Martin's excuse was that he had too much school work to do. (He's going to be in third year like his cousin, Xanthia.) To this Mrs. Weasley asked him if he couldn't study at any time except during Harry's birthday party, and he was obliged to put Intermediate Potions down and join in the festivities.

I was very pleased to hear that Jack and Jill haven't received their Hogwarts letter either. However, when we returned to Two Towers in the late afternoon, guess what I saw on the dining room table? The Hogwarts letter!

The twins and I opened it happily. I shall copy it here so this momentuous event is not simply lost to posterity.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

Dear Miss Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

(I almost screamed with joy here! I'm accepted to the best school in the world!) Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

James Harker

Deputy Headmaster

Immediately Father, beaming like the proverbial Cheshire cat, grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled, Dear Professor McGonagall, have received Hogwarts letter. Cassie will be there on Platform 9 3/4 on Sept. 1st. Love Harry.

Mother got herself into a fluster. "Josie!" she cried. Nothing happened. Mother sighed and called louder and snapped her fingers inefectually, "Drat that phoenix! Never here when we want him!" The twins, suddenly understanding what was happening, decided to leave the room. (They're rather scared of our phoenix.)

Suddenly there was a pop and Josie appeared on a candlestick surveying us with angry, beady black eyes. He ruffled his feathers. Josie is short for Josef Stalin the Second, the full name of our very bad tempered phoenix. We call him Josie for short (or when we're angry with him.)

Father gingerly attached the letter to Josie's leg and away he disappeared. The advantage of using a phoenix is that they can deliver a message anywhere in no time at all. We're very lucky to have a phoenix at all, so we're not complaining if he can be a little stroppy.

Mother then said that she'd take me and the twins to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get our books and equipment. Then more guests arrived (mainly Weasleys I have to say) and we had a full scale party. Must get early night in anticipation of tomorrow.

Cassandra E. Potter

Thursday August 1st 2020, 8:12:45 p.m. apple tree

Odd day. It had its highs and its lows. But the main thing is- I don't have a wand!!! And I'm very angry and upset. Anyway, I'll start at the beginning.

We (Mother, Jack, Jill and I) arrived in Diagon Alley at about eleven o'clock and we headed straight for Madam Malkin's robe shop. It isn't actually owned by Madam Malkin anymore, but the name's the same.

In the shop we found a scowling Xanthia being measured for new robes. She was complaining loudly that a) she didn't need new robes and b) that the tape measure was tickling her. Her mother, Catherine Weasley my godmother, was busily apologising to the shop keeper. A glint in her eyes made me think that Xanthia was in for a lecture afterwards. Our entrance made quite a welcome distraction.

The twins and I were measured and fitted and Xanthia entertained us with tales of how the robes would suddenly split in the middle of a quidditch match infront of all the school. Xanthia is keeper on the Gryffindor Junior quidditch team. (For second and third years.)

Catherine looked really annoyed and told Xanthia that she didn't know what she was talking about.

"And what do you know about it?"

"I happen to teach at that school," replied Catherine very tartly.

Xanthia slapped her forehead, "Gosh! So you do! I say, I quite forgot! Well I never! One learns new things every day!" She winked a me.

Catherine turned to my mother and started a low conversation in Spanish. They like to talk different languages to each other- keep them ticking over says my mother. The only problem is that I don't understand what they're saying. The only Spanish I know is 'Me llamo Cassandra,' which I think everybody knows. Mother says she'll teach me Spanish when she's got a bit more time. At this rate, that'll be never.

After we had bought our robes we went to get our books and then to get our cauldrons and scales. Then the potions ingredients. Mother whisked us through all the shops very quickly, hardly leaving us any time to browse. I would've especially liked to spend more time in Flourish and Blotts. There were some new releases that I very much want to read. Mother said to get them from the Hogwarts library, which is apparently second to none.

We forced her to stop outside the broomstick shop though, while we drooled over the Tornadoes and Nimbuses.

"You're not getting a broomstick, Cassandra, and that's final," she said.

"Why not?" asked Jill.

"Didn't you read your letter? First years aren't allowed their broomsticks."

"But I want to fly," I complained.

"This year you'll keep your feet safely on the ground."

"But Father had a broomstick when he was in first year. He told me."

"Harry is an exceptionally good flyer. There were concessions made."

"So? I intend to be a very good flyer. Can't there be concessions made for me?"

"Oh come on, Cassie," cried Jack uncomfortably. I bit my lip but didn't say anything. Mother continued seriously, "Now, Cassandra, I would like you to promise me that you don't get up to anything at Hogwarts."

"Up to what exactly?"

"Well," she paused, worried, "no sneaking out for one. No tricks, no messing about. You have a reputation to live up to!"

"A reputation? Mother!"

"Yes, Cassandra. You are my daughter and you are representing the Potter family at Hogwarts. I expect you to be on your best behaviour at all times."

"But Mother, I don't see why you're worried. Why would I sneak out? I'm going to Hogwarts to learn magic not to mess about."

Mother nodded darkly, "That's what you think. That's what I thought. And even before you're aware of it, bang! You're caught up in such businesses as you'd never thought were possible! Hogwarts has that effect on people." She shuddered, "It's the best thing that ever happened to me of course, but- oh just take care, Cassandra."

She put her arm round me and dropped a kiss on my head. I was stunned. This was the first time my mother had even mentioned her time at Hogwarts. Jack and Jill's parents are always willing to talk about Hogwarts. (Ron's tales always seem to end as accounts of his own bravery in the face of some far-fetched monster.) As for my parents... I have a memory of my father sending me to sleep when I was very young with tales that are supposedly real of dragons, magic mirrors that show fondest wishes, midnight duels, a ceiling like a swirling sky... Just like out of a book!

"Well, shall we get our wands?" eventually suggested Jack.

"Yes, come on then," said Mother vaguely.

We headed for Mr. Ollivander's wand shop at the very end of Diagon Alley. It was a dark shop, with its blinds pulled down. I could see my mother's hand trembling as she pushed open the door. I wondered what she was so anxious about.

There were some people at the desk, buying a wand. There was a very small woman with large grey eyes and curly brown hair. She was with a girl I supposed to be her daughter, a tall girl with an insolent, pointed face and blond hair. I felt my mother's hand stiffen on my shoulder. She sat down on a dusty chair by the window, folded her cloak round her knees and placed her handbag on her lap. The twins and I stayed standing.

As the woman and her daughter came past us, Mother stood up and said cooly, "Mrs. Malfoy," clearly not as a wish to talk to that woman, but to let us know that these were Malfoys. I'd never seen one before, and they look just as horrible as I've been told.

The woman looked up at Mother, but managed at the same time to bend down, making herself look even lower than she already was. Reminded me oddly of Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine as Mother can sometimes have a very 'Lady Catherine' look about her. She was applying it in strong amounts then.

Mrs. Malfoy almost bowed and said in a slightly foreign accent, "I am very happy, your Ladyship." Mother inclined her head. Mrs. Malfoy looked expectantly at her daughter who stared very hard at us and then turned up her nose and swept from the shop. Mrs. Malfoy looked after her and whispered, "Good-day, Lady Potter," and quickly followed her daughter.

Mother relaxed her pose and sat down and smoothed her cuffs as if nothing had happened, which when I come to think of it, nothing really had.

Mr. Ollivander then appeared from behind the counter. He was very old, possible the oldest man I've ever seen and he had very odd eyes. He looked from me to my mother and whispered, "Ah, I wonder'd when I'd see you again. Lady Potter now, aren't you?"

My mother nodded and smiled very nervously.

"Yes, a good choice. A good choice... you're a very lucky woman, I must say, Lady Potter."

Mother smiled even more and looked dreadfully unhappy.

"Twelve and a half inches, holly, one piece dragon heartstring... Am I right?"

Mother nodded.

"Quite straight, very good for duelling?"

"Oh yes!"

"Yes, a powerful wand. Could have been dangerous in the wrong hands... not in yours I am glad to say, LadyPotter."

I wished he would stop stressing my mother's name, it was making me nervous and I could see Jack and Jill were too. He turned to us and said, "Well, Mr. Weasley, shall I measure you first?"

Jack looked at us and grinned nervously and started to get himself measured. When this was over (they had measured almost every part of his body), Mr. Ollivander stood on a rickety step ladder and pulled different boxes off the shelves. It took Jack ten minutes to find a perfect wand. It was seven inches, ash, quite springy, with a core of a doxy muscle. Quite unusual, Mr. Ollivander said, and good for transfiguration.

Jill went next and was soon swinging a bag with a box in it containing a wand, eight and a quarter inches long, beech, with one unicorn hair, good for common charms.

He then approached me and stared at me out of his big eyes. "Ah, another Potter, destined for just as great things as her father. Yes... a unique person in an unique situation." He started measuring me, pulling boxes out all the time.

I have to say, I felt pretty stupid waving all these wands around with everyone watching me. Occasionally Mr. Ollivander would speak to me, or more, mutter to himself about me, "Well, it'll be interesting to see how you turn out, Miss Potter, which way you go. Yes, very interesting..."

After fifteen minutes of futile waving, my arm ached, and the twins were fidgeting.

After twenty minutes, I was feeling worried, Mother's knuckles were white, as she clasped and unclasped her bag. The pile of wands on the floor was now greater than those left on the shelves.

After thirty minutes Mr. Ollivander stopped, and turning to Mother, said, "Lady Potter, I have exhausted my stock. None of my wands seem to suit Miss Cassandra."

Mother stood up, and swayed as the blood returned to her circulation (she had been sitting completely still for half and hour), "Inconceivable! This will not be borne! Mr. Ollivander, surely this is not your complete supply?"

He nodded, "I am afraid so, Ma'am, though perhaps this could have been anticipated..."

Mother's 'Lady Catherine de Bourgh' pose wilted before my very eyes, and for the first time in my life, something was wrong. "Mr. Ollivander," said my mother quietly, "I insist that you find my daughter a wand."

He spread his hands open, "Are you sure, your Ladyship, that-"

"All I want is for you to find Cassandra a wand, which you will do now!" hissed Mother in a tone that was not to be disobeyed.

He disappeared into a back room and Mother sat down. Jack and Jill shrugged their shoulders at me, but I felt scared. Something had happened, I wasn't sure what, and it was wrong. All that Mr. Ollivander had said was wrong. What did he mean, which way I turn out? No-one had ever found me 'interesting' before, and I'm not sure I liked it. And my Mother's behaviour had been jumpy all day. Something was wrong and I didn't think it should be. After all, what could be wrong?

Mr. Ollivander returned from the back room. "I think I have found a suitable wand for you, Miss Potter. However, I do not stock it. You must wait to go to Hogwarts to receive it."

My heart sank, how could I wait till Hogwarts to try magic? I know I'm not allowed to do magic in the holidays, but I can't wait to try a few simple charms. No-one would mind, surely. And now Jack and Jill and everyone have wands and I don't. I hated Mr. Ollivander and his large eyes, and his stupid predictions (after all, everyone knows that prophecies are all a load of rubbish), and his dark, claustrophobic shop. It was all a set-up to make me feel uncomfortable. I scowled.

Mother was saying something, "And so, what is in this wand, Mr. Ollivander?"

Mr. Ollivander stared hard at me before replying, but I wasn't afraid now I knew it was all a con. How Mother could be taking it so seriously was beyond me. "It is ten and three quarters inches long. It is made of ancient oak and it contains one piece of a lion's mane."

"But a lion isn't a magic creature and, according to Wands, the Ins and Outs, the core of a wand is always from a magical creature," I said as snobbishly as I could.

Mr. Ollivander laughed softly and I scowled even more, "Ah!" said he, "This lion was a very magical creature, Miss Potter, never fear. A very powerful, very powerful wand, Miss Potter..."

"Thank-you. Well, shall we go?" And I made myself as bad tempered as possible for the rest of the day. Jack and Jill's bad luck (though I did feel a bit guilty afterwards).

Cassandra E. Potter