CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE;
NOTT SO SECRETIVE
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There was one thing Ron and Hermione had in common: Neither were convinced with Harry's beliefs that Malfoy was a Death Eater. Cassie, however, was debating.
They took the Floo back to Hogwarts a few days after New Year's Day, as the Hogwarts Express had been deemed too unsafe for the children to ride on. The moment they stepped foot back in the common room, however, a loud shriek rent the air and Cassie's hand flew to her wand instinctively, only to find that it was Lavender squealing of happiness that her Won-Won had returned from holiday. Cassie had to try exceptionally hard not to laugh as she tucked her wand back into her pocket.
Harry steered Cassie off to a private area of the common room and immediately broke into his conceptions that Malfoy was a Death Eater, and that Snape was trying to find out what his task was, and that Malfoy was behind all of the strange and supernatural happenings at Hogwarts this year. By the end of his rant, Cassie had officially sided with Hermione and Ron.
She stared at him flatly, her arms crossed. "My hairbrush went missing last week. Was Malfoy behind that, too?"
Harry's lips parted and his brow furrowed, gaze lowering to the ground. "I just thought you would believe me, out of everyone," he said quietly.
Cassie softened slightly and exhaled a short breath. "It's complicated, Harry. Malfoy being a Death Eater would make sense, in multiple ways, but also... there is too much evidence against it. He wasn't even at Hogsmeade when Katie was given the cursed necklace; Mcgonagall said so herself. And I know his family–"
"The Malfoys and the Blacks have history of being Death Eaters," argued Harry. He quickly realized his mistake and his eyes widened. "Merlin, I didn't mean–"
"No, I know what you meant," she insisted, shaking her head. "The House of Black is a vile family and I barely consider myself apart of it. So to say," she said, shifting herself so she was leaning against the couch, "there is a strong possibility that Malfoy's a Death Eater because he's apart of.. my family. What I'm trying to say is; I see where you're coming from."
Harry smiled. "Thank you," he said. After a brief pause, he tilted his head to see behind Cassie and raised his eyebrows upon sight of something that hung on the notice board. "'Apparation lessons; if you are seventeen years of age or will turn seventeen on or before the thirty-first of August, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparation lessons,'" he read aloud, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Are you planning on it?"
"Can't," she said dejectedly. "I'm not seventeen 'til November. Hope you have fun though, and try not to Splinch yourself. Can't let our Chosen One be taken down by a bit of blood, can we?"
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"What in Merlin's name is a Horcrux?"
"Exactly what I said." Harry ran his hands down his face and dropped his head onto the open book before him, letting out a deep breath.
"I've never heard of Horcruxes," Hermione admitted, frustrated. She huffed and turned on her heel to search the library once more.
"Where's she going?" Cassie asked. "She's already circled the entire library and found nothing." She let out a low groan and rubbed her eyes, trying to knead the exhaustion from them. They had already been back from holiday for almost a week now, and Harry, Cassie, and Hermione had been attempting to scourge the library for any bit of information they could find on the Dark objects. Harry had learned from Professor Dumbledore that young Tom Riddle had been looking into them and Harry promptly decided to follow in his footsteps in an attempt to find out what brought Voldemort back from the dead.
"They must be.. really advanced Dark Magic," said Cassie. "Why else would Voldemort have wanted to know about them? It's like all he knows is Dark Magic..."
"Anyway, you should probably be really careful about how you approach Slughorn to ask about the memory. Think out a strategy," Hermione advised, coming back around the corner on the opposite side she'd left from. She collapsed frustratedly into the chair next to Harry, dropping her head in her hands.
Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "Ron reckons I should just hang back after Potions this afternoon."
"Oh, well, if Won-Won thinks that, you'd better do it right away," said Hermione, flaring up instantly. Harry and Cassie shared a look. "After all, when has Won-Won's judgement ever been faulty?"
"Hermione, can't you–?"
"No!" she said angrily, storming off, leaving Cassie and Harry alone in the library; only for them to be kicked out a few minutes later by Madam Pomfrey as the library was closing.
"I'm getting really tired of this," said Cassie, packing up her books and huffing. "All their fighting. It's obnoxious."
"You'd think they'd realize they fancy each other by now," Harry mused, a smile playing at his lips. Cassie gaped wordlessly at him. He only shrugged innocently. "What?"
"You know?"
"Who doesn't?"
"Oh, Merlin, I've been waiting for someone to talk about it with," she said, exhaling in great relief. "When did she tell you?"
"How'd you know she told me?" said Harry, making a face. Cassie gave him a disbelieving look; both of them knew he was one of the most oblivious people in the world. He rolled his eyes. "Fine, she told me on the night of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match. She saw Ron snogging Brown and got all... emotional."
"I can't imagine you were much help then," Cassie teased, earning herself a shoulder shove. She laughed and rubbed her arm. "I, for one, figured it out a long time ago, and I've been waiting to talk to someone about it for a–"
She stopped both walking and speaking abruptly, her eyes fixated on the tall blond standing only a few feet ahead her. As if he could feel her stare, Malfoy turned, grey eyes widening as they landed on Cassie. He mouthed a word that she knew wouldn't have flown very well with his mother. Cassie curled her lip and thrust her book bag into Harry's arms, drawing her wand. If her instincts were correct–
They were; Malfoy didn't hesitate before bolting off in the opposite direction. Cassie followed right away, shoving her way through the crowd of people that kept her from getting to Malfoy. He continuously glanced over his shoulder, a panicked expression taking over as he realized how quickly she was gaining distance.
Her lungs burned with fury as she trailed the blond. The further she ran, the closer she got to Atticus; it was the only think keeping her from letting Malfoy slip from her grasp. An idea hit her like a brick, and she could mentally hear Ron scolding her for being so ignorant – "Are we wizards or not, woman!?" – so she threw out her wand arm. The word "Stupefy!" had barely graced her lips when someone barreled into her from the side and she was thrown to the ground, wand clattering from her reach and head making painful contact with the stone floor.
Woozily, she looked up in anger to her attacker; her lips curled in a cruel scowl as her eyes laid on Theodore Nott. She reached for her wand, but it was just too far from where she could touch. Instead, she looked back to Nott, who seemed as though he had merely tripped over an extra step (unlike Cassie, who was now dealing with a throbbing headache and aching ankle.)
"Nott," she said lowly, dragging herself into a seated position. "What the fuck was that for?"
Nott scratched himself on the head as though deeply in thought. "Oh," he said after a silent moment. "I didn't see you there."
Cassie could feel her mind moving a mile a minute. Clearly, she thought, Nott knew something. He knew something of such great proportions that he had to stop Cassie before she could reach Malfoy. Her mind reeled; what could Nott know? Unless.... No, there was no way Nott was a Death Eater. But – and Cassie finally had to admit – Malfoy had to have been one. The evidence was too strong. She'd have to deal with Draco another time, though, as the now-suspected Death Eater stood before her, wand hanging loosely from his hand and chest rising in uneven breaths. He quirked an eyebrow as he stared down at her.
"You gonna get up and hex me now, or should I call Madam Pomfrey?"
"If I had half a mind, I'd do the first option," she said, attempting again to stand, with little success. She grimaced. "But unfortunately, you seem to have sprained my ankle."
Nott took on a much-too concerned expression and dropped to his knees at her side. "Oh, golly, I didn't realize!" He stuttered out an apology while his eyes scanned her body for any other injuries. "Gosh, I should watch where I'm going more often. Maybe I wouldn't run into pretty witches as much if I did..."
Despite her current condition, Cassie rolled her eyes and laid back onto her elbows. "Always charmed, Nott," she said dryly, eyed glinting with sarcasm. "Know any simple healing charms in that head of yours, or is it all hot air?"
Nott broke into a grin and winked, pulling out his ivory wand. "This is going to hurt a bit," he promised, hovering his wand over her ankle. She bit back a groan of pain as he muttered "Episkey" and a yellow light shot into her leg. Once the light subsided, she checked her ankle's condition; thankfully, not twisted horridly.
"That's two strikes."
Cassie scrunched her brow and looked to him in confusion. When he provided no further context, she said, "What?"
"Fourth year," he said airily and as if that cleared everything up.
"Lots happened in fourth year."
Nott rolled his eyes, extending a hand to help her into a standing position. She graciously took it and stumbled up. "You spilled our Wit Potion all over us," he told her. She faintly remembered such a situation taking place; he clearly must have inherited the brute of the Wit-Sharpening effects, as it was an insubstantial memory, in Cassie's opinion. "I cleared you off. You've got two strikes now, where I've saved your arse and didn't receive a 'Thank you' in gratitude."
"Funny," she said, rolling her eyes and leaning against the wall behind her to asses her ankle. It was not as bruised as it had been moments before, most likely thanks to Nott's charm.
"It's no laughing matter," he told her seriously. His lip twitching was the only indication of amusement as he continued, "I mean, I would have even taken a simple 'Oh, thank you, Theodore! You are truly my knight-in-shining-armor! I appreciate our friendship and hold it near and dear to my heart–!'"
"I get it," said Cassie, holding up a hand to stop him from continuing, "but I will not be thanking you. Not until you tell me why you just tried to stop me from reaching Malfoy."
Nott's joviality dissolved instantly and he narrowed his eyes in the slightest, glancing around before taking a step in. He lowered his voice, "If I recall correctly, I did not try to stop you from reaching Malfoy – I did stop you. And it was for your own good, alright, Black? You don't want to find out what he's keeping you from."
"So you do know something," she said accusingly, her nostrils flaring. "You tell me right this minute, Nott, or I swear I'll feed you to the damn giant squid in the Black Lake."
"All in due time," he told her promisingly, his earlier demeanor back in full swing. He grinned cheekily at her, saluting with two fingers. "I'll see you on the other side, Miss Black." And with a theatrical and way too over-the-top bow, he left with a flourish.
Cassie stared after him, her heart and mind pounding. If Nott knew something... Cassie tried to think back to what she'd heard about the surname 'Nott' – blood supremacists, maybe? She recognized the name, probably from an Order meeting. She tried to think of what she knew about Theodore himself: He was brilliant at Potions, witty, much too attractive for the looks to be wasted on someone like him..
Hold on.
Cassie paused her train of thoughts. If Nott was so good at Potions, and his family were Purebloods, then why wasn't he involved in the Slug Club? Who else wasn't invited to be apart of Slughorn's group...? Malfoy. Malfoy, who was both third in Potions (only to Harry and Hermione) and Pureblooded. Cassie faintly remembered hearing rumors that Slughorn wanted nothing to do with Death Eaters.
Nott must have been related to a Death Eater, or even been one himself – it was the only explanation. And if he knew something about Atticus...
Cassie inhaled a shaky breath as the truth settled like lead in her veins; Atticus was alive, in Death Eaters' hands.
Whether or not he would remain living for much longer was open to question.