The Grim - PoA

Chapter Seven

The morning after Sirius Black found his way into Hogwarts, the Great Hall was buzzing with the events of the previous night. From theories, to accusations, everyone had an opinion. All Cassie wanted to do, for the first time in her whole life, was go home to Grimmauld Place and lock herself into her room, and sleep for ages. At least there Kreacher wouldn't bother her. Well, not until it was time to eat, anyway.

The next few days passed in much the same fashion; every class and meal passing by in a blur of constant unease and chatter. Questions of 'if', or rather 'when', Black would return for a second attack had left everyone on edge. Even Cassie's own house, Slytherin, was at odds. Most of them, along with a good amount of the other students, thought Cassie was to blame. Oddly enough, these past few days were some of the easiest — and loneliest — Cassie had ever endured here at Hogwarts. Hardly anyone, including Pansy Parkinson, bothered to speak to her at all. She was dangerous, it was decided. Cassiopeia Black had snuck a murderer into Hogwarts, and she would do it again, until he got what he wanted.

At least, that's what everyone seemed to think. Everyone except for Neville Longbottom.

"Cassie, are you coming to the Quidditch match this weekend? First one of the season! Gryffindor against Slytherin." Neville asked, more excited than Cassie would have thought her awkward friend would be about Quidditch. She'd never really understood the excitement of the sport.

The two where sitting around a table in the corner of the library, trying their best to ignore the odd glances and whispering.

"Not Slytherin," Cassie told him, looking up at him from her Potions essay — they had been searching less and less, these days, having grown discouraged with their lack of findings. Cassie couldn't afford to fall behind on her classes, anyway. "Draco's complained about his arm all week, so Marcus Flint's going to reschedule. I imagine they just don't want to play in the weather."

Neville frowns, "Malfoy's pretending to still be hurt?" Cassie nods, and he sighs, "Will you still come, anyway?"

"We'll see," Cassie tells him, turning back to her essay. "Neville, how's your Potions essay coming along? I haven't even gotten past the third paragraph!"

Neville huffs, "Well I haven't gotten through the first yet, if that tells you anything!"

Cassie giggles at her friend, shaking her head.

"I can't believe she's friends with Longbottom," A voice whispers, a Slytherin fourth year, slightly loud enough for them to hear. "She must really be desperate, now."

Cassie's face draws into a scowl, ready to confront them. It was one thing, in her mind, to accuse her of conspiring with Sirius Black, and threaten her. But to talk about Neville crossed a line that she didn't know when she'd drawn.

"Don't, Cas. I-It's okay." Neville tells her solemnly, shaking his head. "Not worth it."

"They can't just talk about you like that." Cassie reasons, with a frown. "It's unfair."

"And it's fair, the way they talk about you? I'm used to it, Cassie." Neville reasons.

Cassie huffs, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. It didn't feel the same to her.

"I'm right, and you know it." Neville mumbles, dipping his quill in ink and starting on his second paragraph.

———

The day before the Quidditch match, the weather was absolutely horrid. The castle had been cast under a shadow of storm clouds, the weather raging on outside. Inside the castle, it was much darker than usual, the halls and classrooms lit with extra torches and lanterns. Her classes where dull, her classmates (and even some Professors) all preoccupied by their excitement for the seasons first match. Slytherin had managed to switch with Hufflepuff, who had a new team captain that everyone was anxious to see. Whether they wanted to stare at him while he played, or see how good he actually was, wasn't really clear. Nor did Cassie care, truthfully.