𝑨𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒕 - ʜᴊᴘ x ᴏᴄ [𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆&𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆]

𝟓𝟏

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ᴍᴜꜱᴇᴜᴍ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a Monday, and Aurora had her interview at the French Ministry of Magic. Cassie had hours to herself, a rare luxury lately. Since her grandmother's revelation — the revelation — she'd been dodging her thoughts like they were hexes, unwilling to let them corner her. The weight of it all was too much, too confusing. She needed space.

That's how she found herself at the Musée d'Art, hoping the quiet halls and timeless paintings would drown out the noise in her head.

The museum was a sanctuary of muted voices and careful footsteps. Cassie's heels clicked against the marble floor, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. She wandered aimlessly, letting the art pull her in, allowing it to be a temporary escape from everything else.

One painting, in particular, stopped her. It was striking — a woman, drowning in a vast, dark pool of water. Her face was twisted in desperation as the water overtook her, her arms outstretched as if grasping for something — or someone. Outside the water stood another figure, identical to the woman, but eerily calm, detached, almost sinister. She stood there, watching, as though she had been the one to push the woman in.

Cassie stared at it for what felt like hours, the weight of it pressing down on her.

"It's striking, isn't it?"

The voice beside her made her jump.

"What I perceive from this," the voice continued, "is that the woman is drowning in her own thoughts, consumed by self-doubt."

Cassie turned sharply and blinked in surprise. "Granger?"

Hermione Granger stood there, her wild brown curls and wide, thoughtful eyes unmistakable.

"Black," Hermione said, a slight edge to her voice. Old habits die hard, she supposed. But then, unexpectedly, she added, "Would you like to have some tea?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Café de Flore was bustling, its cozy interior filled with the hum of conversation and the clatter of cups. Cassie stared out the window as Hermione ordered her Thé des Écrivains, a writer's blend that seemed absurdly fitting for her.

The waiter placed their plates down—Croque-Monsieur for Cassie, naturally—and they sat in awkward silence for a moment before Hermione finally spoke.

"So, what are you doing here, Cassie?"

Cassie glanced at her, still startled by how surreal this felt. "Aurora—my aunt—had to come here for work, so I tagged along." The word aunt felt sour on her tongue, like a lie she couldn't keep telling herself.

Hermione nodded, her sharp eyes studying her. "And you? What are you doing while she's working?"

Cassie shrugged vaguely. "Museums. Trying not to think too much." She hesitated and added, "What about you? What brings you to Paris?"

"Vacation," Hermione replied simply, taking a sip of tea. "My parents are visiting some family friends. I thought I'd make better use of my time here."

"Of course you did," Cassie muttered under her breath, and for a moment, she thought Hermione might glare at her. Instead, her lips twitched into a faint smile.

"Are there any wizarding museums here?" Hermione asked.

Cassie's eyes lit up slightly. "Oh, plenty."

"Where?"

"Don't worry, Granger. I'll show you around," Cassie said, surprising even herself with the offer.

Hermione raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Alright, then."

As the conversation went on, the air between them softened, if only slightly. It was strange—unnerving, even. For years, they had been rivals, two girls on opposite sides of every room, every conversation, every Quidditch match. But sitting here, talking quietly over tea and sandwiches, she didn't feel like the Granger Cassie used to resent.

Still, Cassie kept most of it to herself. She wasn't ready to tell Hermione about the lie of her childhood, the twisted truth of who Aurora really was to her. She wasn't ready to explain the weight that followed her every time she looked at Aurora, or the guilt that came with being Sirius Black's daughter.

Instead, she let Hermione carry the conversation, let her observations and insights fill the gaps in Cassie's silence.

By the time they left the café, the tension between them wasn't gone, but it had shifted, softened into something tentative and fragile.

"Thank you," Hermione said as they parted ways outside. "For... this. It was unexpected, but nice."

Cassie nodded, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. "Yeah. It was."

And for the first time in days, the noise in Cassie's head quieted — just a little.

It was a Monday and Aurie had her interview at the French Ministry of Magic. I had a lot of time in my hands so I decided that I would spend it thoughtfully. Today was the only day that I finally got some space for myself since Grandmother told me about you-know-what. I was avoiding it because I didn't want to think about it. This is exactly why I was going to the Musée d'Art (Museum of Art). 

I walked inside the Museum and went inside the gallery. The sound of my heels clicking on the marble ground filled the air. I stopped by this one painting. A woman was drowning in a huge pool of water. Her face looked desperate as the water filled up her lungs. Another figure who looked exactly like the one drowning stood outside watching the woman drown. The figure looked precisely like the drowning woman yet she had an evil aura in her. 

"What I perceive from this is that the woman is drowning in her own thoughts that were consumed by self-doubt." said a voice beside me.

"Granger?" I asked recognizing the curly brown hair and buck teeth.

"Black. Would you like to have some tea?" asked Hermione Granger.

____________________________ ׂ ׂ

Café de Flore was Cassie's favorite cafés in Paris. Their Croque-Monsieur (which was a classic French Sandwich) was Cassie's and Aurie's favorite comfort food. The best hot chocolate in Paris (at least in Cassie's opinion) was theirs.

"So, what are you doing here?" asked Cassie looking at Granger in surprise. She never expected to meet Hermione Granger of all people in Paris.

"I am here for vacation. What about you?" She replied, taking a sip from her Thé des Écrivains, also known as 'Writer's Tea'.

"Well, my Aunt needed to come here for a work matter so I tagged along. Where are your parents?"

"They are visiting some family friends and I thought it would be more productive to go to a museum. Are there any wizarding museums here?" 

"Oh, plenty."

"Where are they?"

"Don't worry, Granger. We shall go together." I said smiling. Granger wasn't all that bad.