KILLER | H. POTTER

3. THE ANNOYING TRIO

The following morning, a box filled with pictures and letters was delivered to Potter at breakfast.

Cass honestly hadn't actually planned on giving him anything. But she didn't have much use for Harry's letters to Sirius or the pictures of Potters' parents. So, she'd decided no harm in giving them to Scarface.

Cass wore an old t-shirt of Sirius's under her robes that day. It felt comforting.

She'd also checked her bank account to see exactly how much money Sirius had left her. It wasn't that much, not quite enough for Cass's plans. She was definitely thankful for it, but she wouldn't stop doing her part-time gig just yet.

The idea to make an income that didn't come from the Malfoy family vaults came to her last year. When she'd started dreaming of taking her little sister and running. Those plans were on hold at the moment, but Cass knew she had to make them work at some point. So, she needed money.

Cass never had an allowance. If she needed money for things, she just asked her parents, and they gave it to her. She'd managed to put away some galleons by asking money for things she didn't need and then never bought, but she couldn't abuse that play too much or they'd get suspicious.

So, Cass's business was born.

Cass always liked fashion, and she'd taught herself to sew when she was young. It only made sense to go into that field. It's not as if she could do much else either way.

And it paid well enough once she how to milk it.

So, every other day, Cass would go down to the kitchens and work on clothes. A lot of it was repairs and alterations, but sometimes people would ask her to make them something, which was just her favourite.

Cass sat at her makeshift sewing table down in the kitchens and glued crystals on a short pink dress. Honestly, it was coming out great. She'd come a long way from her first unflattering, ill-fitting pieces.

A house elf, Mikey, glued stones on the other end of the dress.

People very rarely came into the kitchens, and the elves usually tried to keep people out when Cass was working inside, but every once in a while, someone would wander in.

Usually, nothing a quick Confundus wouldn't fix.

But today Cass was sleep-deprived, and a million thoughts occupied her head, so she didn't see the girl until she was almost right in front of her.

Just her luck. Hermione fucking Granger.

The Gryffindor looked dumbfounded. "What are you—Tell me you're not running a sweatshop down here, Malfoy!"

Cass shrugged, expressionless. "Okay. I'm not running a sweatshop down here, Granger."

Hermione scowled, her face going red. "You can't just use house elves for whatever it is you're doing here, Malfoy. They're not your slaves—"

"Calm your tits, Granger," Cass cut her off. "You can ask any of them. I pay them as much as they let me and everyone who helps me volunteers."

Hermione didn't seem very assuaged. She looked at the dress on the form beside Cass. "These are... Muggle clothes."

Cass glared at her. "If you don't go, I'm going to hex your damn teeth again."

A worried look passed through Granger's eyes, but she obviously wasn't too worried because she stayed. "Why are you... sewing Muggle clothes, Malfoy?"

"That's none of your damn business."

"If you don't tell me I am going to report you—"

This was why no one liked her.