CASSANDRA, or Memoires of an Heroine

CASSANDRA, or Memoirs of an Heroine

Chapter 3

'At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end, the delicious story is ripe to tell to the intimate friend; Over the tea-cups and in the square the tongue has its desire; Still waters run deep, my dear, there's never smoke without fire...' -W.H. Auden, Twelve songs

Professor Catherine Shortstraw dejectedly poked her wand at the large green board that sat flickering in the candlelight on her solid but overburdened wooden desk. She clutched the instructions booklet that was just too small and too thick to be held comfortably and sighed heavily. She read on,

'To start your use of the 'Confundius-Sinclaire Magical Battle Simulation Kit' you must remove the main board from its box.'

"Yes, thank-you. I'm very obliged to you for being so helpful," she snapped at the booklet and turned a couple more pages.

'To specify a historical period one needs the use of Conditional Charms.'

Catherine groaned, Conditional Charms were not her forté.

'To start the charm the wrist movement must be practised. The following diagrams (figures 1a. to 1d.) should be followed for maximum results.'

Catherine stared in wonder at what appeared to be four artistic pictures of rabbits jumping about the page in varying degrees of madness, clutching sticks in their mouths and being followed by little coloured arrows and dotted lines.

What possessed me to buy this? she wondered, and how shall I ever get it working efficiently by tomorrow morning to show the new third years?

There was a knock on the door and Lily Potter entered. When Lily was younger she had been very friendly with Catherine's mother, Cidilla, and she was now just as fond of Cidilla's youngest daughter.

"Not asleep yet, Catherine? Why whatever's that?"

"That," said Professor Shortstraw, "is the 'Confundius-Sinclair Magical Battle Simulation Kit'."

Lily glanced at the box lying on the floor and picked it up with raised eyebrows, "So I see. Why are you trying to do this now? It's quarter to eleven, and I know what you're like when you don't get enough sleep. Your poor class!"

Catherine rubbed her eyes, "But I've got the third years first thing tomorrow. I was going to show them the Battle of Salamis to enthuse them..."

Lily smiled and looked carefully at the small print on the box, "Catherine, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this only does land battles. It can't simulate water. Silly Professor Shortstraw, didn't you read the small print?"

"I bought it from a magazine..." moaned Catherine.

Lily picked up a piece of authoritative looking parchment and glanced at it, "You're in debt, Catherine? What a stupid thing to have gone and done!"

Catherine sighed, "Yes, I bought this kit out of the departmental budget, and now I owe the school twenty five galleons. It's a very great nuisance."

She tossed the bill into the fire, "Now, Lily, what did you come to talk to me about?"

Lily sat down and ate one of Catherine's supply of Italian grapes, "Cassandra."

"Indeed."

"What did you think about the sorting? Odd, wasn't it? And the rumours have started already."

Catherine didn't reply for a minute then she said cautiously, "I greatly admire Cassandra's mother, she's one of the kindest and bravest women I know and she has done many great things in her lifetime, but I do think that she should have told Cassandra before she came to Hogwarts."

Lily nodded hard and ate another grape, "Yes, I agree. All secrets are odious, and I really believe this to be the most odious of them all."

"I think we must be thinking of different things, what I was referring to was not odious at all."

Lily sighed, "The whole blasted family is so shrouded in mystery, speculation and secrets that I hardly know where fact ends and fiction starts! I wouldn't have enough fingers to count all the things that have been said about the Potters at one time or another. Look at me for instance! Only about ten people know that I'm really Professor Dumbledore's daughter and not his niece. But the theory of how I survived death is so leaky, that at least half the world should suspect something. I don't see how people can be so trusting! It's against human nature, surely, to believe anything and everything that they're spoon fed."

"Well, they'd have trouble believing all the Potter business if it ever came out."

"People will believe anything so long as it's bad," replied Lily.

"No! You don't really believe that, do you?"

"You'd be surprised. Everybody loves a scandal."

Catherine was shocked, "Scandal! There's no talk of that, surely?"

"When it comes out, there will be a scandal, yes."

"When? But they've kept it so well for about fifteen years now!"

"You see, tell a secret to one person, and you've already told a whole neighbourhood."

"But I!-"

"I wasn't accusing you, dear Catherine! Still, did you really tell no-one?"

She looked guilty, "Well, Bill knows some of it, and Edward and Xanthia have a little of an idea..."

"See? What if Edward told his delightful girlfriend, Hyacinth? What then? Or if Xanthia let something slip?"

Catherine stood up angrily, "Edward and Xanthia are perfectly trustworthy! I don't like what you're suggesting."

"No, you don't, because you're perfectly trustworthy as well, but you told three people!"

"My family! Does that not mean anything? Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to replan my lessons for tomorrow."

Lily stood up and made her way to the door, "What will you give them?"

"Grammar, and more grammar," replied Catherine grimly.

~~*~~

The telephone rang and Hermione, surrounded by papers, owls, booklets and other clutter, answered it.

"Hello," said someone, down a very crackerly line.

"Hello, who's speaking?" Experience had taught her to be careful when people rang up and didn't immediately give their name.

"Charlie. Charlie Weasley. Is that Hermione?"

"Charlie! How lovely to hear you! How are you and Maria?"

"Fine, fine. How are you?"

"Surviving!" she laughed and he joined in.

After about five minutes of trivial small talk on topics of mutual interest such as jobs, children, budgeting, plumbing and school, Charlie came to the point.

"I lost Ron's number, but I found yours instead, and I thought you'd know who to contact," he began.

She frowned, her quill suspended in mid air. (She had been surreptitiously drafting a letter to the local council on traffic flow on minor country roads during the conversation.) "What exactly do you mean?"

"Well, last month we had a bit of trouble in Pasnic, where we live."

"Trouble?"

"It's probably nothing, but I thought someone should know, and the Auror system in Romania is almost archaic!"

"Yes, yes! What happened?"

"There was a volcano, and then it erupted!"

"A volcano! But there aren't any plate boundaries in Romania! How odd!"

"It appeared in the middle of the night, a mountain was formed, just like that! And then it started breathing fire, but the fire seemed to fly around the village, and as it passed above us, we felt so cold. I've never been so scared before, Hermione."

"And then what happened?"

"The fire seemed to return to the inside of the volcano and it hasn't erupted since."

"Very odd. And is the mountain still there?"

"Yes. What do you think I ought to do?"

Hermione tapped her quill on her desk, "I think you should leave Pasnic as soon as possible, and I think you've done exactly the right thing in ringing me. I'll look into it."

"Thank-you, I knew I could count on you! Do tell Ron, won't you? His being an auror could be very helpful."

"I will, Charlie. Rest assured, something will be done..."

~~*~~

The Boss wanted to see Dea Prejudice and so summoned her to the appropriate chamber. She came promptly at her boss' bidding, full of news.

"There is trouble in Romania! I have had it from Principa Athena, who was alerted by one of her Domini."

The Boss' head inclined under a rode of navy blue, "Indeed. Principa Athena? Which Dominus?"

"Athena didn't say. But I inferred it to be Domina Eowyn. It usually is."

Domina Eowyn could have had many promotions, but she had turned them all down, preferring to stay as a Domina in the bottom rank. Prejudice was well aware that Eowyn could have overtaken her many times and indeed, already had in the Boss' affections. To all the members of the Department of Mysteries, Eowyn's name was the most well known of all the Domini. Working alongside her partner Dominus Aragorn, they made a formidable team.

"Well, what shall we do?" asked Prejudice.

"You tell me. You have reached the highest rank in this Department, and so should make some decisions. Who shall we send out?"

"Why not send out Eowyn? She started it."

"I have other plans for Eowyn and Aragorn."

"You always have other plans for Eowyn and Aragorn! You deal with them through other Dei, but never me! Why not?"

"Because," said the Boss with a chuckle, "you wish to over-use Eowyn. There is a limit to the number of places a Domina can be at once!"

"I wish you'd tell me what's so special about Eowyn! You like her so much, and I don't know why! You even made up a code name for her, instead of giving something normal like you do for the rest of us!"

"No, Dea Prejudice, Tolkein made up her code name. You should read more. Reading's good for you."

Prejudice glared under her hood, "I've no patience for long novels about an unbelievable fantasy world."

"Seems like you're rather prejudiced, Prejudice." And the Boss chuckled loudly at the joke.

"I wish you wouldn't tease me about my name. Do you tease Domina Eowyn about her name?"

"She's a Domina, obviously I never see her."

"Huh," sulked the Boss' confidante.

The Boss seemed to be deliberating something, then said, "Listen, Prejudice, if you are a very good little Dea, then I'll tell you who Eowyn is," dramatic pause, "the day we find Voldemort's Heir!"

"You-Know-Who left an heir?" almost shouted Prejudice, "impossible!"

"Possibly. Possibly not. But nevertheless, the day we find him or her, I shall tell you Eowyn's name."

"I don't believe you know yourself!"

"Of course I do! I know everything about my Domini and my Principi and my Reges and my Imperatores and my Dei. No-one can hide a secret from the Boss of the Department of Mysteries!"

~~*~~

The Book

Wednesday September 2cd 2020, 7:35:19, Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts

Homework, classes, teachers, homework, more homework, even more homework, lessons, tiring... Well, that's just about the jist of my first day as a working pupil of Hogwarts. Not that I'd not be here... it's just that I think there is a throw 'em in the deep end an' that'll teach 'em attitude towards the first years.

I was the first awake this morning (obviously- since I was the only one with enough brains to set my alarm for a reasonable hour, or even to set my alarm at all) and got dressed before Jill had even surfaced. Then, when she had eventually reached the land of the living, we had to wait ten minutes for Jack to appear from the boys dormitories. Poor Jack- he has no Cassandra to wake him up. Hmm, I was being sarcastic.

I took my bag to breakfast. Jill thought this odd, especially since I had packed all my text books into it, since I didn't know which I'd need and I didn't want to have to rush back to the common room to get my books and risk being late for the first lesson.

Megan gave us our timetables. I have now discovered that receiving a timetable is one of the most exciting events of a day. There is something really thrilling in seeing the names of the people who will be our guides and mentors into the realms of education for the next two years.

Wednesdays we have Charms with Professor Potter to start with. I was glad we got Grandma. She is Head of Charms after all and the best teacher, so it is said. I shall just have to remember to watch my Ps and Qs and call her 'Professor Potter'. Otherwise I'll be in trouble. After Charms we have French with Professor Delacour. Professor Delacour is the only French teacher who's really French so I'm really lucky that we have her. I'm really looking forward to learning my first foreign language. Mother speaks French, Spanish and Italian fluently, and Catherine is biolingual in about ten different languages. (I suppose it wouldn't be biolingual then. How about dexalingual...?) Father can say 'yes please' in French, German and Italian. Mother keeps enrolling him in language booster courses which really annoys him.

After break, double Potions with Professor Snape beckoned. I had hoped we might have got Professor Glenn, the new teacher, but no such luck. Still, it is my place to learn the art of Potions, which I intend to do, regardless of who teaches it. Lunch next, then Herbology with Professor Sprout. I don't know anything about her, except that she's very old, and Head of Hufflepuff. Then we return the castle for Theory of Astronomy with Professor Perks.

To round off the day, we have double Quidditch, taught by Professor Brocklehurst, who also teaches Dance and Drama, a minority course for fourth years and above.

I was the first to Charms, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. After my little performance last night I expected to waltz through Charms. I did. I charmed my feather to levitate four feet before Jack could even find the page in the text book. Professor Potter was really rather cool with me though, maybe she's just trying to be impartial. When I had done it, she merely said, "Oh well done, Cassandra," and immediately turned her attention back to Donna Peterson, who was having unnatural trouble with the pronunciation. There's nothing to the pronunciation of the charm really. It's just a case of practice, (or in some cases, natural ability.)

In French, we were all rather distracted by Professor Delacour who is half-veela and therefore exquisitely beautiful. This proved quite distracting to the male members of the class which made the female members giggle. All apart from me. I hope I've more sense. I do hope it settles down.

When Professor Delacour was taking the registrar, she made many comments about each pupil. When she reached me, she got very excited.

"Aah," she cried, violet eyes shining, "I remember your père... Il est très beau, n'est-ce pas?" She clasped her left hand to her heart and sighed sentimentally, "Une fois, at 'Ogwarts..."

"You've gone really red, you know," hissed Jill audibly. Jack snorted loudly and tried to turn it into a cough.

She continued down the registrar and then we started the excercises. This meant getting into pairs. One problem with being a threesome- someone always gets left out. Since there are an odd number in our class, Professor Delacour said she'd work with the odd one out. Jack suddenly decided he'd prefer the teacher to his sister and his best friend. Jill giggled loudly.

At the end of the lesson, when we were doing our conversation work aloud to the class, Professor Delacour interrupted Jill and I to beam at me and say, "Cassie, ton accent! C'est superbe! Really naturel!"

"Teacher's pet," whispered Jill. I really don't know where she's acquired this annoying habit of saying exactly the wrong things at the wrong times, but I hope she stops.

After the lesson, Jack was surrounded by all of the boys, and told them all that Professor Delacour had said to him during the lesson. Apparently her Christian name is Fleur, and her whole name means 'Flower of the Court'. How... appropriate.

"Honestly... boys..." I muttered turning away from the nauseating spectacle to get ready for Potions.

Potions was in the dungeons. Jack, Jill and I headed right to the back and sat in a threesome. I was very glad that we weren't with the Slytherins. Father told me how, before Hogwarts had expanded and started excepting more students it had been thought a good idea to have some lessons with other houses. Gryffindor always ended up with Slytherin, so it seemed. Now, however, with twenty-five in each class, this is fortunately unnecessary.

We had barely got out our books when Snape swept into the room, looking very bad tempered. He banged his books down onto his desk. The pupils exchanged glances. I kept my head down. Mother had said not to mess with Snape, and I intended to be very good and not draw attention to myself.

He glared around the room, and his gaze eventually came to rest on me. I did not realise this until he snapped, "Look up, Miss Potter, when a teacher is looking at you. Try not to be so rude in future."

What an excellent start! I looked up, very red. Snape was still glaring at me. Then he said, "What do you know about Potions, Potter?"

My mind went blank, I didn't know a definition of Potions. However, I think I managed it rather well, "Potions is the study of...er...Potions. These are liquids that are brewed by witches and wizards. Potions are very important to the average magician, as they allow them to create effects that might not have been possible with a wand-"

"Enough, Miss Potter! Tell me, what is the difference between a simple potion, and a compound potion?"

"A simple potion is one that is created in less than one day and all the ingredients are added at the same time. A compound potion needs more long term work."

He stared at me and then asked me about another ten similar questions. At the end he seemed oddly satisfied and muttered something which I could not catch. Then he said in a sneering tone, "I say Potter, have you heard of a 'brush'?"

My jaw dropped. He wasn't making it very easy for me to be polite, "Yes I have. I wonder why you ask? Perhaps you want me to define that as well? I brush my hair twice a day, for your own interest!"

He turned away and started the lesson moments later. I don't think I'll ever understand what he was going on about.

His lesson was quite interesting, if he did pick mercilessly on Jack and Jill and almost completely ignored me. He seems to have a grudge against the Weasleys as well as the Potters.

At the end of the lesson he suddenly said, "You may all pack up apart from Miss Potter. I want a word with her."

I went to stand at the front of the room by Snape's desk. Eventually he looked up and acknowledged me. Then he surveyed me quietly for a few seconds before beginning in the following way, "You must know Miss Potter, that some people are more desirous acquaintances than others."

I was hungry and I resented being stuck in the freezing dungeon for longer than was necessary, "Really? Thanks for the information. May I go to lunch now?"

"I should tell you that this bold and self centred way of speaking will not make you many friends. It is a trait passed down through all the members of the Potter family- just one of their habits that I particularly loathe about the Potters. It is rash and stupid. It is the surest way of making enemies."

I fixed what I hoped was a cool, unconcerned stare from my green eyes, "I shall speak exactly as I please and no-one, and especially not a mere teacher shall dictate the way in which I act."

For some reason he didn't seem angry, "Miss Potter. I don't know if you are quite aware of the precipice on which you stand. I simply wish you to know that you are a fool if you let blind prejudice get in the way."

"In the way of what?" I wanted to know.

Snape didn't answer my question. Instead he said, "Miss Potter, your parents have very odd, and in some cases faulty opinions and I would like you to be aware of that."

"Faulty opinions? Faulty regarding who? You? My parents are my guardians, and as far as I am concerned, they can never be wrong."

I thought I saw a trace of a smile, "You are young yet, Cassandra. You will learn soon enough that your parents have made very great mistakes!"

I laughed incredulously, "Indeed? What are they?"

"Do you want to know? Do you want to spoil the perfect image you have of Sir Harry and Lady Potter? You parents, Miss Potter, are very selfish. They thought of nothing except themselves. They should not have ever got married!"

"But they loved each other! What do you think they should have done? Eloped to Australia?!"

The door opened but neither heeded it.

"Love is not the only thing on Earth to be considered. There is power, and history. And, Miss Potter, there is also the future, something your stupid parents didn't consider when they foolishly married."

"Professor Snape?" came a voice out of the shadows.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Snape snapped angrily.

The speaker revealed himself to be Nero Malfoy armed with parchment and quill, "Why, you asked to see me about the Advanced Potions class, remember?" He stared with unconcealed curiosity at me.

"I'll see you in a minute, Malfoy! I'm busy! Miss Potter, I have business to transact. You may leave."

I tried to think up a good retort, but as often happens, none came to mind at the appropriate moment. I merely turned away and started walking out of the dungeon.

Snape's voice stopped me, "Remember Potter, few people like a know-it-all."

I turned round, "I don't know who you're referring to. If it is me, then you are quite mistaken. Much as I would like to know everything, that is obviously an impossible goal to reach by the time you are eleven!"

I left the room and he didn't stop me again. Jack and Jill were waiting outside and I explained what had happened. Neither of them knew what to think, but Jack said that he thought Snape was a evil vampire bat and was simply out to 'drink my blood'.

As we were about to leave the dungeon area into the normal thoroughfare of the school, footsteps pounded behind us and Malfoy, out of breath and red faced appeared at our sides. He turned to me, "What was Snape talking to you about back there? What was he telling you about love and power?"

"None of your business! You shouldn't have been eavesdropping on a private conversation!"

"You shouldn't conduct your private conversations in a public area! I had an appointment with Snape, I had every right to be there!"

"Well, perhaps you could have announced yourself instead of standing there in the shadows, listening in!"

"I'm a Slytherin, you forget Potter. Besides, your conversation with Professor Snape was very interesting. I'm sure, if you had heard such a conversation you would have listened a little."

"I will not tolerate being insulted in such a way, Malfoy!" I drew myself up to my full height of four feet and five inches. My eyes hit his pointed chin.

"What are you going to do then?" he drawled lazily.

Then Jack did something very stupid. He drew his wand and stepped forward to face Malfoy, "I'll fight you, Nero Malfoy! No-one insults my best friend like that and gets away with it!"

"Jack, no! We'll get into so much trouble!" moaned Jill.

Then I did something very stupid too, but I was very angry. I gently pushed Jack away and pulled out my own wand, "No, Jack. You won't fight Malfoy. I will fight my own duels. Nero Malfoy, I challenge you to a wizard's duel here and now! Jack is my second. Who's yours?"

All three of them looked as if I was mad. At last Malfoy said, "I refuse, Potter. I will not duel you!"

I gasped, "You won't? Why ever not? It'll be a fair fight, I'm good at magic, if I am only on my first day, and I've read all the spells!"

He sighed, "Put away your wand, little idiot. It's more than it's worth for me. I hate you Potter, but I won't duel you. Try and think before you act in future and maybe then you won't get into trouble so much!" And he walked away.

I turned to the twins, who looked absolutely incredulous. I asked them what I'd done that was so wrong.

Jack shook his head, "It's taboo, Cassie. Did you never hear it? Boys don't fight girls. It's simply not on. Malfoy would have got into so much trouble if he accepted your challenge."

"But...but!" I stammered, "What if, say, there was an evil dark wizard, and the one who could defeat him was a girl, what then? Would she be forbidden to fight him?"

"That's not very likely to happen though," said Jill.

"It's possible, and I don't think we should rule it out!"

"Cassie," said Jack, "There's no Dark Wizard, and there are no Buffy the Vampire Slayer type heroines around nowadays."

"Buffy the who?" I said, lost.

Jill whispered confidentially, "American muggle soap. Don't get him going on it..."

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. In Quidditch, Micky Wood, the half American tomboy surpassed herself. I didn't do badly, in fact I did rather well. I don't think I'll ever be as good as Father, but I can fly, which is more than I can say about Jill- she can't even get the broomstick off the ground!

Tomorrow I intend to explore the library, which I have heard so much about. I shall probably need it, with all my homework...

Now for music practise and then bed. I'm worn out.

Cassandra E. Potter

~~*~~

Cassandra did not write in her diary the next day. Life at boarding school was paying its toll on the first year Gryffindors. She did however, explore the library and was not displeased with what she saw. Having been accustomed to the small, but convenient and cosy library at Two Towers, she was astonished and happy to find one so much larger, impressive, quiet, suppressed and generally more libraryish at school. Though she did not spend all of her time there (as others had chosen to do before her) she did spent a large proportion of her spare time there (especially when the Peterson twins had their wireless play their favourite rock group, Sexy Porridge, too loudly in the common room.

Cassandra soon became known as the year's resident eccentric. She did not like Sexy Porridge, she preferred French to Astronomy, she did extra work for Professor Snape and she had a temper like a bad tempered wasp when roused but was as meek as dormant butterfly the rest of the time.

Cassandra was the only person in the year who had brought with her an oboe and a violin. Donna Peterson played the piano, and her twin Dora learned the guitar, and they performed as well as most eleven year females from Manchester can be expected to play but apart from them and Jimmy Forrester who could whistle, the first year Gryffindors were hardly a musical lot. They would queue up to listen to her running up and down three octaves of D flat dominant sevenths, though they preferred it when she played concertos...

Cassandra went on regular visits to the cluttered office of Professor Shortstraw where she would update her god mother and her grandmother on her progress while Lily made tea and Catherine did overdue marking and tutted about people who didn't learn their vocabulary. Sometimes Xanthia came with her, but Cassandra preferred it when she didn't. Xanthia and her mother were so much at odds at the moment that having the two in the same room created quite a lot of tension.

The term rushed by far too quickly for Cassandra, and soon she was packed off to the Burrow for Christmas. Every five years there was a large Weasley family reunion where anyone who was remotely related the Weasleys (and a lot of people like the Potters who weren't) came for one of Molly Weasley's smashing Christmas house parties. There was no excuse for not attending one.

That year, everyone came. All Arthur and Molly's children turned up with their families, from Charlie and Maria with their good looking son Ivan and their pretty daughter Helina coming all the way from Romania, to Ginny and John Farrel and their son Richard and daughters Bobbie and Alex who weren't yet at Hogwarts.

The adults all seemed to be interested in Charlie and Maria's move from the small village of Pasnic in Romania to another dragon reserve in Russia. However, the young people were mostly interested in Ivan and Helina. Cassandra couldn't understand the big deal. They were, she admitted, good looking in a very East European way, but nothing to make such a fuss about. Jenny said that she would understand when she was older, and Jill just giggled.

Cassandra found, as the year progressed, that she was growing futhur apart from Jill than ever before. She seemed to have changed. She became more interested in boys, fashion, makeup and she liked Sexy Porridge (or said she did). She started saying that Cassandra was childish, immature and boring. She became better friends with Dora and Donna, the twins, and hardly ever spent any time with Jack and Cassandra. Those two would sit with their books in the common room and complain to each other.

"You're a proper girl, Cassie," Jack would grumble, "I don't know what I'd do with out you."

After the Easter holidays the first years started their revision for the exams. Pressure was put on from teachers, pupils, parents, friends and relations. The weather got hotter, the pupils were miserable and the teachers overworked.

Professors Delacour and Maxime were particularly under pressure, for they were trying to organize the next year's French exchange trip. This took place every three years, and was limited to the top twenty French students in the fifth, sixth and seventh years. Edward Weasley had very much wanted to go, and was over the moon to be chosen. His girlfriend Hyacinth mourned him, since he would be away at Beauxbatons from September to after Christmas, before returning with his exchange partner, a boy called Louis Martinique.

Cassandra did very well in her exams, however unpleasant the weather was. Her top subjects were French, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Charms but she did very well in the rest of them. Her Potions' mark was her lowest- only 78%. Snape seemed to be marking the papers very unfairly since he gave Kim a mark for exactly the same answer that Cassandra had put. When the latter enquired into this he pointed out some subtlety of expression that had escaped the girls' attention and took points off Gryffindor for Cassandra's cheek.

The harder Cassandra tried, the more Snape seemed to dislike her. She wrote three extra rolls of parchment for an essay and he told her off, she answered questions meant for others and he took off points, she did extra research and he humiliated her in front of the class. "Don't you think I have better things to do than mark your extra work?" he said. "When I ask for three rolls of parchment, I expect three rolls of parchment, not seven! There are twenty-five people in this class, Miss Potter, and twenty-five in the first year Slytherin group. If each pupil writes three rolls of parchment how many rolls of parchment do I have to mark? Tell me that, Miss Potter!"

"One hundred and fifty, Professor," whispered Cassandra.

"One hundred and fifty!" he cried banging his fist on his desk, "Do what I set, Miss Potter, no more, no less and I shall be satisfied. I shall have to take some more points off if you give me extra work again."

Cassandra never gave in more than the required number of pages after that; she made her writing smaller.

Ravenclaw won the house cup, but Gryffindor was in second place. Cassandra was very sorry to be going home, for she loved Hogwarts, but she was looking forward to seeing her parents.

That year the Potters were going to Hungary. Cassandra enjoyed it very much, especially the gypsy violinists and the language, which was quite different from either English or French. She did her homework on the plane.

Cassandra had finished Lord of the Rings the previous Christmas, and she had enjoyed it very much. The most interesting thing she had found about it was the connection between the second book, which was called The Two Towers and the new name of Brassington Hall, also called Two Towers.

Tolkein's two towers, Cassandra found out, referred to Minas Morgul- home of Sauron's dreadful Ringwraiths and Orthanc, ancient home of the great band of wizards of good. But Brassington Hall was home to neither a Dark Lord, nor a great good wizard and Cassandra couldn't understand the connection.

After the long summer holidays Cassandra was glad to return to Hogwarts. She found that once you've started in a very busy routine like school then it is hard to get used to not having an action packed life. The summer holidays had seemed for the first time... empty.

For the first time Cassandra, Jack and Jill weren't the youngest students. The only first year that they knew, was Richard Farrel, Jack and Jill's cousin. He was sorted into Gryffindor.

Donna and Dora came back with tales of their father's new girlfriend. Apparently she worked by giving talks to senior school muggles about puberty and sex. She had spent the whole summer lecturing the twins and they now knew more on these subjects than the average adult. They would retire giggling into a corner with Jill to boy-gaze and talk 'girl talk'. Cassandra read anything she could get her hands on, and Jack sat around doing nothing and distracting the others.

One of the other members of the Gryffindor second year was Kim Fortune. She loved Astronomy. Her first year Astronomy mark had been so high that she had received permission from Professor Perks to spend Saturday nights stargazing on the Astronomy Tower. Another pupil with such an interest was Felix Lorrimer, a Hufflepuff, and Kim and Felix soon became good friends.

One time Kim, who was friendly with Cassandra took her up with them and they spent the night wrapped up in blankets eating sandwiches and surveying the universe.

It was the first time Cassandra had met Felix, and she liked him. He was quite short, had brown hair and a happy face.

"Look, Cassandra," he said, passing her his omnioculars, "I can see the plough. It's very clear tonight."

"I see it," she passed them back.

Felix held it up towards the sky and sighed with contentment, "I see such odd things in the stars, Cassandra! They tell me things."

"Never mind him, he thinks he's got second sight," said Kim, her eyes glued to her telescope.

Cassandra shivered and pulled her blanket closer, "What sort of things do you see?"

He glanced towards her, "Oh, all sorts of things! It's all very fuzzy, like I'm looking out of someone else's glasses. Sometimes I see what is, sometimes what was, and sometimes what will be."

Cassandra laughed, "That's a quote from Lord of the Rings, you know. Galadriel said it."

"Oh, I don't remember that."

She looked up sharply, "You've read it?"

"Well, yes! I really enjoyed it."

Cassandra did not reply, but she felt rather awkward for the rest of the night and somehow it slipped her mind to ask him exactly what he saw in the stars.

Second years could try out for the Junior Quidditch Team and Cassandra was soon excepted as their new seeker. Since Hogwarts had expanded a great deal in the last twenty years, instead of their being only one team for each house, there were now three. A Junior team for second and third years, an Intermediate team for fourth and fifth years and a Senior Team for sixth and seventh years. There was also a house team that the best players from the house were invited to join. Xanthia now a fourth year, was pleased to be accepted to join this team as Keeper.

The first Junior game took place in October, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Nero Malfoy was the Slytherin seeker, but Gryffindor won. However, even Cassandra had to admit that Malfoy was quite a good player. His sister did not play quidditch.

The French exchange left in mid September in a flurry of excitement and hype. They left by flying cabins carried by dragons, provided by a deal with the Department of Transport and Charlie's dargons. Martin left with them, and Catherine's spirit also went. Catherine had wanted to visit Beauxbatons for as long as she could remember, but being neither French nor a French teacher, she had no right to go there. Still, every three years when the trip left she wished that she could see that famous magic school. She had heard much about it, how it was a wonderful chateau; bigger and more ornate than Chambourd itself and she longed to go there.

Still, a new group or two of eager third year classics students beckoned her and perhaps the Confundius-Sinclaire Magical Battle Simulation Kit might just work for them. Under Lily's expert training she had just about understood Conditional Charms, though getting them to function smoothly and effectively in front of a group of critical thirteen year old Slytherins was quite another matter.

After Christmas that year, the second years found themselves under a great deal of pressure from their teachers. The fact was that they had to sign up for the subjects they were going to take for their OWLs. Since Lady Potter had taken command of the syllabuses they became much tighter. The number of subjects taken was rigidly controlled, the options were no longer completely free for the pupils to choose, and the work covered was monitored even more carefully than before. The pupils would choose three options from a list of seven in their second year, and another subject in their third year. This meant that a total of twelve subjects were taken in the fifth year.

If anyone complained to Ministry that the pupils were being overworked, they were presented with a list of facts and figures that showed at a very quick glance that children were doing better than ever before in exams, learning more, achieving more and getting better jobs than before the new syllabuses were introduced. If Lady Potter neglected to inform the person about the rising rates of depression, nervous breakdowns and suicide among teenage wizards, then she was only doing her job. The complainer would look at the figures in admiration and would immediately become a convert to the ever growing group of fans of Lady Potter.

Lady Potter was ambitious. What exactly she wanted nobody quite knew, but she was now the most powerful woman in Britain, if not in the whole magical world. She was the chief school governor, she was a member of the select governing committee, she was head of a department, she was the richest woman in England and she was married to Harry Potter. Fortune could not be more on her side.

Where her riches came from, nobody knew. She had millions of galleons, Harry had billions, and it was growing bigger every month. Some said they had a private income, though what it was no-one could guess, some said the Potters were blackmailing someone, though who and why was also unknown.

Some also wondered what her daughter knew. Whether Cassandra was aware that she was heiress to over five billion galleons was a question pondered by many.

Whatever Cassandra did or did not know did not matter to most people. They would follow her Ladyship to the grave and beyond if necessary. There was only one sceptic of importance and that was Ron Weasley. Whenever Lady Potter proposed something or converted someone, he was always there like a bee buzzing round her trying to persuade otherwise.

He lay awake at night worrying about her. "What are you trying to do?" he asked, "take over the world?"

"Don't be silly!" she would reply and change the subject quickly.

His wife took a far more positive line towards it. "She can't go further," she said.

"Why not?" inquired Ron.

"She wouldn't have the nerve."

"Pah! Nerve!"

"Yes, nerve! She's got this far, with ninety per cent of England at her feet. She couldn't go further."

"Yes she could! You don't know what I do, and I tell you, she could!"

He left the room and slammed the door.

Lisa Weasley called after him, her hands on her hips, "I know a great deal more than you think, Ronald Weasley!"

Cassandra knew nothing of politics, and she wasn't interested then to find out anything. She was trying to choose her options. Her parents, her teachers, the Weasleys and older students all advised her and the only thing they agreed on was not to do Divination.

She had to choose between Care of Magical Creatures and Latin for one option. For the second subject she could do either Arithmancy or Divination. The last subject was a choice between Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies or Experimental Charms.

All the heads of departments gave a lecture to the students to persuade them to take their subject. Arithmancy was the only subject Cassandra found easy to choose, mainly because the alternative was Divination. The Arithmancy teacher, an oldish woman nearing retirement age was called Professor Vector. She seemed very strict and had some very old fashioned ways of addressing the class. She showed the year what Cassandra thought was a beautiful proof about something called Psychic Quadrilaterals. She had always loved Maths at her Junior School, though she had found the work too easy, and she was certain she would enjoy the combination of magic, mathematics and language that was Arithmancy.

She dithered between Experimental Charms and Ancient Runes (Muggle Studies did not appeal). Runes, she thought looked fascinating. She wanted to learn as many languages as possible and having to learn a whole new script sounded like fun. However, Experimental Charms seemed probably more 'important' for a witch like herself. It was a relatively new subject that dealt with the discovery and creation of previously unknown charms. At last she choose Experimental Charms.

The hardest decision she made was between Care of Magical Creatures and Latin. She wanted to do both, and knew she would be letting someone down whichever subject she chose. Hagrid was a very close friend of her parents, and Cassandra liked him very much as well. Professor Shortstraw was her godmother and her mother's best friend.

It was Xanthia who really made up her mind, "For goodness sake, Cassandra, don't chose the subject because of the teacher! Take the subject that you think you'll enjoy the most! Not what your parents think you should do, not what Jack and Jill want to do, but what you, in your heart of hearts, want to do."

"But I want to do both!"

"Do you really? Forget about Mum and Hagrid. Which subject have you been leaning towards all the time, even if you thought you should keep your options open for the other?"

Cassandra did not reply, but signed up for Latin.

Jack and Jill couldn't believe Cassandra's choices. They were both doing Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. "You're mad," said Jack encouragingly. "Arithmancy is the hardest subject apart from Ancient Runes."

"So why are you taking it, Jack?"

"Er, because it's not Divination?"

"I'd have really thought you'd lost it if you took Runes as well," said Jill.

"I was dithering," admitted Cassandra, "but I choose Ex. Charms."

"Apparently you have to write loads for that and it's really boring!" said Jill. "Martin's doing it and he says you have to write twenty rolls of parchment on the safety precautions you're going to use when testing a new charm, and then another twenty pages at the end to explain whether the safety had worked."

"Exaggeration," said Cassandra airily. She stood up and went off to her dormitory. She liked her options and, as Xanthia had so justly put it, that was the important thing.

~~*~~

Wormtail staggered under the weight of the body. He pushed him into the room and slammed the door shut, disturbing some cobwebs. Rita followed him in and wrinkled her pretty nose. "Urgh, Peter! Why ever did you choose this rotten dump?"

"Because."

"Well, that's not a very good reason, is it now? For god's sake, it's a sewer!"

"Exactly," replied Peter, still panting slightly, "No-one will ever find us."

"It stinks."

Wormtail ignored her and gazed down on the body of Alexander Johnson, ex-Professor of Transfiguration and the most prestigeous member of that department seen for quite a while. He had been dead quite a long time, and was starting to smell, though not as much as the sewers.

Rita grimaced, "I hate dead bodies."

"You must have come into contact with them quite frequently in your job, don't you?"

"That doesn't make me like it any more. I always have to put up a brave front when I'm reporting." She took a few steps towards him, "It's only with you that I feel I can really be myself!"

Peter licked his lips nervously, "Really?" he stuttered. He loved being admired, and Rita was very good at it.

"Uh huh." She stood next to him and fingured the collar of his robes, "You know Peter. That silver hand of yours is really...very becoming."

"You think so?"

"Hmm... You're so clever, Peter. I know you'll do anything so well. You were the Dark Lord's right hand man for years, weren't you?"

"I was! Before... you know."

"It was such a pity that he had to die. But you're going to carry on his work, aren't you, hon?" She caressed his lapel, smiling.

Peter nodded dumbly.

"You just need Professor Johnson's information and then you can raise the biggest and most invicible army ever before! An army of rats! And I shall have revenge on the Potters. Twice they have exposed me to ridicule and made me lose my job. Not any more! You and I shall conquer the world."

"The world is not enough..."

She smiled and kissed him passionately.

The door burst open and a woman strode into the room, rats scurrying away in fright and causing the lovers to jump apart in surprise. She pulled off her black cloak and hung it on a make shift hook. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked, eyebrows raised ironically.

Rita moved away and batted her eyelids, "Not at all, Ma'am!"

The newcomer knelt down by the body and felt his pulse. "Peter, he's dead. I told you I wanted him alive. Alive means animate- still breathing, you idiot! What use is he dead? For goodness sake, get a brain, Pettigrew!"

"Nefarius bungled it. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? I should think so too! I hope Nefarius is sorry as well. A cabbage leaf has more intelligence than him! He may have ruined all our plans."

"Surely not!" gasped Rita, "Whatever shall we do, Ma'am?"

"You tell me. You've had ample time to ponder on that before I came."

"Perhaps he wrote something down..." mumbled Rita.

"Well, find it then!"

"Why don't you?" sulked Peter.

"Because only people like you who bear uncanny resemblences to overcooked rice pudding are at all suitable for this job. I've got better things to do."

"Excuse me, what's your name?" said Rita.

The woman froze.

"Your real name, I mean. I'm pretty sure it's not Jane Smith."

"I must have neglected to mention it," she said after a pause, while still combing thoroughly through Professor Johnson's pockets.

"Are you going to tell us then?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I like Jane Smith. Besides, surely I have a choice to whom I reveal my name?"

"Of course you do," mused Peter. "I was just thinking. You're roughly the right age to be-" he lowered his voice, "-the Dark Lord's mistress."

Rita gasped.

The woman's laughter rang out loudly, "Goodness me, Peter! Are you still going on about that? You're obssessed!"

"Lord Voldemort never found out who either of them was. He would have liked, I am sure, for me to continue his hard work."

"Give it up, Peter. You'll never find either of them."

"Do you, do you remember... her, at all?" whispered Rita.

"The Lady? Yes, a bit. She was rather short, she had coal black hair..." he stared at the woman in consternation. "Say, Jane or whatever your name is, do you have a sister?"

"No, I don't think so." She covered her mouth with her hand to stop the laughter escaping. She coughed hard and blamed it on the dust.

~~*~~

Lady Potter leaned over and pulled out a heavy book from the library shelves. Harry watched her from the bottom of the stepladder.

"Got it!" she said triumphantly. She jumped off the ladder and sat down in one of armchairs. "Now, listen carefully. I'm not sure if we'll find anything in here, but this is where it'll be if it's anywhere."

"Can we believe Charlie's account completely? He may have been exaggerating."

"We must take that into account, of course. However, whatever that Volcano was it was enough to make him leave Romania. I'm inclined to believe him."

"Have you any idea what it might have been?"

"The fire? None whatever," she replied sadly. "Living fires aren't my specialty, which is why we're going to prioritise researching them."

"We?"

"Yes, I'll find you something to do. And anyone else, for that matter. Ron can help... who else?"

"Would you really get anyone else into it?"

"I would trust Ron with my life, you know that Harry."

"I hope it never comes to that," he replied gravely.

"Do you think it's that serious?"

He sighed, "We must be cautious. I treat anything like this with great caution. I would have thought you would as well."

She stood up and tucked the book under her arm, "I'm going to bed. I haven't got any sleep for about three days."

"What have you been doing?"

She glared at him, "Doing my duty at the Department of Mysteries. Unlike some people who just pop in once a month to check for non-existent post, I actually spend time there."

Harry shook his head, "You have too many jobs."

She stifled a yawn and opened the door, "I'm just busy."

She entered her room, changed and got into bed. She put the book on her bedside table, turned off her light and closed her eyes. To sleep, or perchance to dream...

~~*~~

"What do you mean, you're going to marry him?" The speaker was a tall, regal, pale man with the blackest of black hair.

"You heard what I said," the girl said steadily. She was just twenty. Her face was pale, her eyes a dark, shrewd brown and her hair was glossy black. They were clearly related.

"But- but, Elena, he's a Gryffindor!"

"I'm aware of that."

"I am not letting you marry a snobbish British baron, Elena! You are a Slytherin, and you should be proud of it!"

She tossed her head and stood up, plucked a flower from a nearby pot and twirled it between her fingers, "Well, I'm not proud of it. I loathe your name, Lucius, and the day I can abandon mine in favour of Simon's I shall be very happy. I can then forget my family!"

"Ungrateful wretch! Think what Father and I did to bring you up properly, and look how you've turned out! You are a disgrace to the name of Slytherin! Father would turn in his grave if he knew about this!"

"It's a good thing he was cremated then, isn't it? Really Lucius, I wonder you're taking so much of your time up with me. You're just wasting it. I am quite decided. I shall marry Simon Gryffindor and that's the end of it!"

"You were my sister, Elena," Lucius said sadly, "is that all changed? We played together."

"I regret it. I hate you. Goodbye, Lucius. If you don't give your consent, then I shall marry without it." She tossed the flower into the pond as she crossed the peristyle and left the garden without a backwards glance.

~~*~~

A/N: Thanks SO much to

vmarc9, neha dkulkarni, no need to know, KitLee, Kiz Malfoy (x2!) Please do review again!

Chapter Four: An ancient telescope, a political meeting, Nero Malfoy gets involved. Out in the first week of November!

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Silvestria