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𝐍ow that Cassiopeia was all patched up, the five exit the Room of Requirement. She follows Ron and Hermione as they carefully guide the group to the library. Draco and Harry walk alongside her, one on each side.
"Let's go to the library," Hermione says as they walk. "The restricted section might have some information about the spells your ancestors used. Meanwhile do tell us more about your..." she looks around to see if anyone else is in the halls, "affliction."
Cassiopeia nods.
"The son mentioned in the legend," she begins, "he wasn't always insane. In fact, our family records say that he was quite loved and sociable until his 16 birthday."
"What happened on his birthday?" Ron asks, walking backwards. His eyes show great interest in the story.
"For some reason, he went absolutely crazy, screaming curses at the servants and even family. Almost everyone in that room died. Within a single night, he completely transformed into a monster."
"I see," Hermione muses.
Cassiopeia inhales and exhales slowly.
"Are your feet still hurting?" Harry asks to her left.
Sung wiggles her toes as she walks. The tingling feeling comes back. "Just a bit. But it doesn't matter since I can't really feel pain."
"You can't feel pain?" Hermione asks curiously.
"I've been like this since I was born," Cassiopeia explains. "There's no pain, but I can gauge the severity of the wound from this tingling feeling I have. The more tingle, the worse the wound."
"It drives me nuts whenever she's injured," Draco half-complains. "I can never tell since she usually keeps her injuries to herself. One time, she fell off her broom-"
"I think that's enough," Cass interrupts. Her cheeks are tinged pink. "Let's just get on with the research."
"Of course."
They finally reach the large wooden doors leading to the library. When Hermione leads them inside, Harry immediately smells fresh ink and parchment, similar to that day in potions. He might have lingered in the memory of the delightful scent if not for the eery atmosphere in the air.
It is midday, lunchtime to be exact.
Yet... the library is empty. All the lights are off, and not a single sound can be heard.
