Always Something - Dramione

Chapter Seventeen

The morning post was winging into Hogwarts's Great Hall. Pollux Malfoy received a box of strength restoring sweets from his grandmother at the manor, which he was trying to feed to Gris as she protested, insisting instead that he share it with Cassie, who was not at all interested.

How could she be when a parcel from London had just dropped for James Potter? It was tiny but heavy and wrapped in a note written on Weasleys Wizard Wheezes stationery which read simply, "Don't tell me what it's for, and I can't rat you out. Your Loving Uncle, GW. xoxo."

It was the Muggle wand, the mobile phone James had asked for, lying sleek and dark in its box. He pulled out a length of white electrical wire, frowning.

"Never mind all that," Cassie said. "Dad just touches it with his wand to light it up."

James held the mobile toward her. "Does he? Show me."

She nudged his arm with her shoulder. "You do it."

"Doesn't have to be me. All it wants is sparks, yeah?"

"James -- not here."

Albus craned his neck to see what James was unpacking. "You shouldn't have that," he said.

"You don't even know what it is."

"Of course I do."

"Ah, new mobile," Rose nodded. "Broadening your horizons, James? Stepping away from the isolationist British wizard mindset? Good on ya."

"He didn't get that thing to improve his education," Albus said. "He's getting fixed up to do some sneaking around."

James glared. "You know, you're right, Castora," he said. "Let's not do this here."

Paul's head snapped up. "Whoa, whoa, wait. Sneaking around is all well and good, Potter, but you'll leave my sister here 'til you're finished."

"Look, everyone calm down," James said. "It's only a Muggle mobile telephone. It's just for research -- for information, not sneaking. A harmless gift from my uncle."

Rose yelled out a laugh. "Which uncle? That should tell us a lot."

"Doesn't matter," James muttered.

Gris and Cassie had no opinions on Weasley uncles and were staring, still dumbfounded, at Paul. "Pollux, that was such a brotherly thing for you to say," Griselda finally said, feeling his forehead. "So protective of Cassie. Has your fever come back?"

Rose shook her head. "Not to worry, ladies. Paul is just doing what Potters and Malfoys do, naturally driven to get in each other's way -- eternal sworn enemies."

"No, they are not," James said, stuffing the mobile into his bag. "Now, If there are no more objections, we'll be off. What'd you reckon, Cassie? We've got an appointment with the headmaster."

As James stormed out of the hall, Cassie following, walking close enough, her sleeve long enough that their hands may or may not have been joined, the rest of them looked to the dais at the front of the hall where Professor Longbottom was seated, in no hurry to finish his breakfast.

Albus scoffed. "Where do they think they're -- "

"Ah, let them go," said Rose.

"There's no 'them'," Paul countered.

"Obviously, there is," Gris said.

"No, it wouldn't make any sense," he argued. "Potter's way too old for Cassie."

"No, he's not even a full year older."

"Well then, he's way -- he's way too James Potter for her."