Lustful Alchemy

22. CASSANDRA

The castle is almost deserted, but the spirit of Christmas animates it just the right amount. For days now, fairies and Glowbugs have been spotted at every corner, lighting up holly and enormous fir trees, and a tinkling of enchanted bells continually resonates to the rhythm of Christmas carols, loud enough to drown out even Peeves' shrieks and vulgarities; the statues are covered in magical warm snow that keeps falling from solitary white clouds, and the few students left in the castle are thrilled at the prospect of spending Christmas at Hogwarts, lounging all day free from lessons, playing Exploding Snap, and eating sweets in abundance.

My mind drifts back to my student years, to the holidays—and more—always spent within these walls. It's incredible how every traumatic experience in my life has always inevitably led me back to Hogwarts: first, my childhood, where there was no reason to celebrate being a freak of nature; and then my life after graduation, which seemed wonderful, successful, full of parties, gifts, smiles, life, and love... a love that melted like ice in the sun the moment I revealed my true nature. Rejected twice by men who should have loved me regardless of my being a witch, I long thought that there was no right place for me; and yet here it is, that place, which took me in for the second time, giving me a new opportunity, making me feel loved and, above all, understood and part of something.

I know I wasn't obliged to do so, but I thought I should nonetheless repay all this: so, in the past few days, I have been to Hogsmeade more often than expected, to get all my colleagues an appropriate gift for each of them; a small gesture to express my gratitude – also because I know too well that I will receive a gift from them as well. Needless to say, the hardest gift to choose was for Aesop. I still can't believe he allowed me to call him by his first name! How silly and childish I seem if I confess that sometimes I find myself murmuring it to myself, just to hear how it sounds?

I could have played it safe and given him a bottle of some fine liquor, but honestly, that seemed too obvious a gift; the last thing I want when he opens it is for him to think I chose it lazily, just out of obligation. No, instead, I really wanted to give him something memorable, something that would remind him of me. Perhaps a bit too presumptuous considering that the greatest intimacy we've had so far has been two not even complete sexual encounters (and to hell with patience: not even a kiss!), but after all, I have to start somewhere if I want my feelings to be reciprocated.

Moreover, in the days leading up to the holidays, we hardly managed to spend a moment alone: we necessarily had to get ahead with our subject programmes, and considering that he has two and I have the free time needed to help students who need it, we practically only saw each other in class and at meals. By the time it was time to go back to our rooms, I was so exhausted that I would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Now that I'm in my room, fiddling with the laces of the same midnight blue dress that Aesop sneakily took off me at Gladrags Wizardwear to finger me in front of the mirror (Merlin's beard, how perverse he is...), I can no longer bear the frantic beating of my heart in my chest at the thought that we will spend Christmas together. Funny for someone who until a month ago called him by his surname...

Anyway, until the moment he slipped into the fitting room, I was convinced I would choose a different dress. The one I left at the shop was purple, with beautiful embroidery on the bodice and a round neckline, sleeveless. But when Aesop told me I was splendid immersed in the blue velvet studded with microscopic silver stars, I had no more doubts. And for tonight, I wanted to make myself more beautiful: my hair is loose and falls down my back, except for two locks that I pinned at the nape with a silver moon-shaped clasp from which tiny oak leaves branch out, almost forming a crown that stops right at the hairline on my temples. I've dabbed a bit of red lipstick on my lips, and on my lashes, I applied a mixture of elderberry juice and ash with a tiny comb: now they are well separated and darker, and my gaze seems more intense than usual.