The Clockwork Locket || SIRIUS BLACK

The Final Match

Despite the events of the previous night, Cassie woke with the sun only a few hours after their return from the forest. She peeled her back off the headboard of her four-poster, wincing at the ache in her muscles. Her frantic time in the well, coupled with the fact that she had fallen asleep sitting upright while Lily, Marlene, and Alice were curled at her feet in various uncomfortable positions atop her mattress, had served to make her incredibly sore, and she popped her neck and back several times to loosen up her stiff joints.

Being careful not to wake the sleeping girls on her bed, she slipped out from behind her hangings and tiptoed into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. Approaching one of the sinks, she turned on the faucet and cupped her hands, letting the ice-cold water fill her palms before splashing some on her face and rubbing the excess on the back of her neck.

She thought, with some morbid humor, that she quite resembled a hag as she stared at herself in the mirror; with her dull, bloodshot eyes, tangled hair, and scraped and bruised skin, she certainly was not a sight to behold. She wondered why Sirius had even wanted to kiss her last night while she was in such a state, especially when she still smelled strongly of moss and well water.

The thought prompted her to switch on the shower behind her, turning the tap until the bathroom began to steam up, shrouding her reflection in mist. She stripped off her dirty clothes and stepped into the stream of hot water with a hiss, though she welcomed the stinging heat against her skin.

She reached up and felt the empty space on her chest where once the clockwork locket had rested. The numbing shock that had overcome her anger and frustration the night before had not dissipated with sleep, but tears pricked her eyes all the same when she remembered what had transpired in the forest.

She had come so far, so far, and everything had literally crumbled into dust before her very eyes. The gauntlet was gone, and so was the locket, and the well. Miranda had destroyed the Fountain of Youth and taken Slytherin with her. Everything that Cassie had obtained, every clue that Will had given her, was nothing more than a whisper of a mystery that had been solved and snatched away from her at the last second.

Her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs as she leaned against the wall of the shower, the water mixing with the scalding tears falling freely from her eyes. She had all but condemned Will to death with her foolishness, thinking that she was the only one who could have solved his riddle. Remus had been right; they should have gone to Dumbledore from the very beginning. She had been so stupid to think that she could have outwitted Carlisle and the Dark Lord in one fell swoop. The only thing she had done even remotely right was sending Will away, but how long would that last until the Death Eaters found him again? With the gauntlet gone, she could never bring him back herself, lest she brought Voldemort's wrath down upon both their heads. Despite the small victory she had won against Voldemort and Carlisle from obtaining Gryffindor's gauntlet, the greater loss of Will's freedom was a crippling blow, and she sank to the tiled floor when her knees gave out.

Get a grip, Cassie, she scolded herself halfheartedly. Blubbering on the bathroom floor isn't going to solve anything. Stand up, clear your head, and start working on a plan to save your brother.

It was not an epiphany by any means, but she forced herself to stand again on shaky legs and take a few deep breaths, letting the shower slough away the last of her tears. She washed quickly and dried herself before creeping back into the dormitory, checking to see that the girls were still sleeping before dressing and heading for the common room.

Even though it was a Wednesday morning, she was still up early enough to be one of the first downstairs. Two seventh-year girls were finishing procrastinated work at a table in the corner, but Cassie was surprised to see Peter sitting in front of the fireplace, wearing pajamas with a Gryffindor blanket draped around his shoulders.