56| Secret Helper

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(A/N: Back to Cassie's POV)

Yesterday was definitely a crazy day, but oh boy was today going to be another. 

I was fine, except for a small head-ache, which either came from yesterday's potion thing, or from the change in weather. 

I went down for breakfast; not knowing that I would be hit by two surprises today. 

I was eating my breakfast with one hand, while the other held Annalise' potion's notes. She was telling the points that I was sure she knew well, over and over again. 

"Anne why are you so stressed?"

"Today there's a potions test for us, 20% of the total potions grade."

"You're gonna ace it." I assured her.

"Ah ah." she refused. "It's theory! You know, I'm not that good in potions."

"But you got an Exceeds Expectations in the last test."

"Yes, but- but that was diff-"

"It's gonna be the same. If you know how to do the practical, you can do the theory."

"I'm not good at words like you."

"I'm not that good."

"Comparatively. You have a flair with words. Whatever that means."

"Ms. Smith." I heard someone call me from behind.

"I hope I wasn't disturbing anything." said Professor Slughorn. 

"Oh. Not at all sir." I said. 

"I wanted you to consider an idea. Would you like to join the slug club? A late member, but an exceptional one."

"Sorry Sir. But me?"

"Yes. The youngest member of the order, now that's something great. We have a meeting tomorrow at 7pm in my office. Hope to see you there." he said and left the table. 

"So... you going?" asked Anne.

"I don't know. I was never a fan of Slughorn."

"It's your wish. But are you really the youngest? What about the Potters, and Sirius and Remus? Weren't they in school too?"

"True. But I joined last year. When I was 16."

Her face showed realization, and she went back to reading the notes. 

It's once in a lifetime thing. Maybe I would go?

A owl landed near me, dropped a piece of paper on my plate, and swooped away loudly. Looks like a wild and untrained bird. 

I opened it, but understood nothing. 

⠠⠞⠓⠊⠝⠛⠎ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠛⠕⠊⠝⠛ ⠙⠕⠺⠝. ⠠⠏⠑⠕⠏⠇⠑ ⠁⠗⠑⠝⠄⠞ ⠺⠓⠕ ⠺⠑ ⠞⠓⠊⠝⠅ ⠞⠓⠑⠽ ⠁⠗⠑. ⠤ ⠠⠗.⠠⠇


Just a series of dots. "What's that?" asked Anne. I shrugged. I tried taking Anne's pencil and joining the dots. But it made no sense too. 

"I'm not sure. But it look like Braille."

"Braille?"

"You know. For blin-"

"I know what braille is. But who would send me a note in braille?"

"I don't know."

"How do we decode this?"

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