CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN;

BUGGER OFF

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"I don't suppose I can stay here for the rest of term?"

   "You know your mother and father would kill me if I snuck you out of school," chided Remus, though he held back a smile. "Besides, I'm supposed to be the sensible one of the group. You know how horrible that would make me look?"

   Cassie rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder, before exhaling in defeat and finally wrapping her arms around his torso. She had attempted too many times at convincing Remus to sneak her off the train and let her stay at Grimmauld Place, only for him to turn her down every single time. Damn Remus and his responsible ways.

   They stood in the entrance hall of Grimmauld, and seemed to be in their own little bubble; all around, people bustled past them, worrying and stressing about whether or not they had everything they needed. Cassie wasn't worried at all – she hadn't come with much.

"Alright, now– KIDS!" shouted Mrs. Weasley; instantly, all of the hustling came to a halt and everyone turned their eyes to the woman. "The Knight Bus is arriving soon, so say your goodbyes and let's get outside."

They acquiesced. Soon, Cassie found herself face-to-face with her parents and very dry-mouthed. She bit her lip and looked up to her mother first.

"Have a nice rest of term for me, okay?" said Adelaide, delicately placing a hand on Cassie's cheek. The gesture was a bit.. touchy, one could say, and Cassie almost pulled away, but instead let her mother keep the touch on her daughter.

"And be sure to sneak in a prank for me," said Sirius quietly. Cassie arched an eyebrow and looked back to her mother; she only wore a matching smirk to Sirius's. "See you after term."

"Yeah," said Cassie in an uncertain voice, plastering a smile on her face. Had her parents known her any better, and they would see the true wariness hidden in her eyes, but that was one advantage of missing nearly thirteen years with them; they could not tell how dubious she truly was.

Still, she gave them a hug and left Grimmauld Place with a growing pit in her stomach. As she turned on her heel and watched the house fade back into its Unplottable chart, a sinking feeling told her she wouldn't be returning for a while.

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"It's outrageous," said Cassie furiously, slamming the Prophet down onto the table and scoffing. "It's– it's rubbish! How could my father, even if he was guilty, be capable of freeing ten prisoners from Azkaban?"

   "They're looking for someone to blame," said Hermione grimly, her face dark. "They've already dove too far into the statement that Voldemort isn't back, so they need someone to pin it on, and Sirius is the only logical answer–"

   "Logical?" Cassie scoffed. "This is anything but logical."

   And so were the reactions of the students; Lots of times, Cassie and Harry walked through the halls together over the next week, and whereas in the previous term, the whispers surrounding them would have been shocked and devious – yet now, there was a certain edge of worry and confusion behind the hushed voices. As though they, themselves, were debating how a single man could free ten high-security prisoners from Azkaban's fortress...

Slowly, people began to trickle back into Cassie's life. It started with Lavender apologizing for being cruel (though Cassie was sure that Parvarti had forced her hand), and eventually, Seamus Finnegan was actually looking her in the eye again. Cassie was suspiciously reminded of the time in third year when she had been convicted of being Sirius Black's apprentice.

Cassie had to admit that she was shocked she had not received any detentions from Umbridge during the month of January. Perhaps it was because the girl had finally learned to keep her head down and toes in line, but still, Cassie thought Umbridge would have been bound to find something to punish her with – but she didn't. The High Inquisitor barely even spared a glance Cassie's way.

February rolled around and, with it, the pre-pubescent awkwardness of Valentine's Day. Cassie truly thought it was one of the stupidest holidays to ever be created in the history of all holidays.

It began with Adrien Pucey. He approached her once after Care of Magical Creatures and asked if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him on Valentine's Day. Cassie, however skeptical she was of Adrien's true intentions, just smiled warily and let him down gently.

Then came Terry Boot, of Ravenclaw; much more timid than Adrien had been and seemed on the verge of tears whilst talking to her. He reminded her of Wipsy. She declined.

February ninth was Zacharias Smith – this is the one that baffled Cassie the most and, even looking back on it, she still hasn't a clue why he asked her.

The one that came on February eleventh was infinitely harder to turn down; Neville.

"Cassie?" he had asked shakily, his face pale as he pulled her to a quieter corner of the common room. "Is– D'you– Hogsmeade– Valentine's–?"

"Are you asking me on a date?" she asked gently, tilting her head to the side. His tongue swiped his lips and he nodded slowly. "Oh, Neville.. I'm– I'm so sorry, I don't–"

"Oh," said Neville in a small voice, his face beet red as he swallowed and nodded fervently. "Oh, alright. It's alright, hah, I was only.. wondering.."

And he hurried off to the boys' dormitory. Harry entered the common room just after Neville's departure, looking quite content with himself and very happy. Cassie arched an eyebrow and set her grief aside, allowing confusion to take over – good moods were hard to come by in such times.

"What's got you so bright?" she queried as he collapsed onto the couch next to her with a heavy sigh. He turned his head to her, though his eyes seemed to be far away from their conversation.

"Cho and I.." he said, the ghost of a smile flickering across his reddening face, "we're going to Hogsmeade together. On.. on Valentine's Day."

"Oh, that's brilliant," said Cassie, a smile taking over her lips as she hit his arm. "Way to go, Harry!"

"I'm quite surprised she said yes, to be honest," he said quietly, his smile slowly fading. "I mean, y'know, I didn't think I was..."

"Her type?" Cassie guessed, raising her eyebrows. He shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, her type totally isn't tall and handsome boys who just so happen to be Seekers and have competed in the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry laughed sarcastically. "Very funny," he said, rolling his eyes over her quiet snickers. "I just thought, well.. Cedric was better than me, in.. in everything. No doubt about it. So, I guess I only thought it was weird that she, I dunno, downgraded. I mean.. I'm only me."

"Only you?" Cassie repeated with a surprised scoff. "Harry, you're Harry bloody Potter, okay? You're the Boy-Who-Lived, the winner of the Triwizard Tournament, Gryffindor's star Seeker – on temporary leave, I guess I should say –, and you're humble. Cho would be lucky to have you. And as for Cedric," she stood, pursed her lips and looked down on him for a moment, then continued, "don't compare yourself to him. He was a brilliant wizard and an even better boy."

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Cassie was dateless for Valentine's Day for the fifteenth year in a row. Hooray.

"It's cold," she grumbled to Hermione as they slugged their way through the slushy snow to the Hog's Head, her hands buried deep in her pockets and her head practically hidden under her knit hat that Hermione had stuffed onto her. "It's cold and wet and I'm dateless and I just want a butterbeer."

"You're so intolerable," Hermione replied, astonished, as she pushed the door to the pub open and held it for Cassie. The two girls took their seat in a booth, off to the side; out of sight of most customers. Luna joined them a moment later, but their next guest's appearance caused Cassie to sputter her drink down her front.

"What's she doing here?" Cassie asked indignantly, dabbing at her chest with a napkin.

"Ask Little-Miss-Perfect over here," said Rita Skeeter in a grumbly voice as she took her seat across from the girls. "Well? Where is he?"

"Should be coming any moment now," said Hermione distractedly as she craned her neck in search of something; she seemed to have found it, as she beamed and waved someone over. "Harry, come sit–!"

"What's she doing here?" Harry asked in the same tone Cassie had, eyeing Rita with hatred in his gaze.

"Rita here has accepted to write an article on your side of the story," said Hermione brightly, smiling pointedly toward Rita, who gave her a bared teeth and sarcastic sneer in return.

   "Right," said Harry slowly and skeptically, as though he did not trust Rita whatsoever (Cassie didn't either, for the record). Hermione nudged his shoulder, and he glanced over Rita again before asking, "What is it you'd like to know?"

   "Oh, tell me everything," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She looked back to Hermione and arched a smeared eyebrow expectantly. "You don't actually expect the Prophet to print this, do you?"

   "Oh, no," the voice of Luna cut in dreamily. "No, the Prophet won't publish it, but the Quibbler absolutely will – it's no laughing matter, Miss," she added seriously, as Rita had snorted under her breath at the mention of the Quibbler.

   "And how much am I getting paid for this little endeavor?" Rita asked dryly, looking to Hermione for answers, but it was Luna that replied.

   "My daddy doesn't hire writers for the Quibbler for money," she said airily. "He says he hires them for their ability to tell a story."

   "I'm not getting paid?" Rita's mouth had fallen open in shock. "But, what–?"

   "You're not getting paid," said Cassie coolly, finally remembering her part of the plan that Hermione had given her the run-down on in the dorm the night before, "because our silence is worth more than whatever anyone could pay you, right? Wouldn't want your little secret to get a-buzz."

   Rita's nostrils flared and she glared at Cassie as though she were the most abominable thing since Lord Voldemort himself, but finally, the writer picked up her Quick-Quotes Quill and cleared her throat.

   Harry answered most of the questions about what happened in the graveyard, but Cassie threw in a few comments every now and then. It was worse, she thought, to hear what had happened from his point of view; how he had Stupified Cassie because he knew they wouldn't have been able to escape together if she were still conscious, how Harry saw his parents and Cedric whilst he battled Voldemort...

In the end, Rita wrote an entire two pages on Harry's experience and Luna promised it would be published as soon as possible.

"I think that went well," said Hermione, red-cheeked and grinning as they walked through the cold and back to Hogwarts. Snow sprinkled into her bushy hair.

"Well enough," Cassie agreed. "I can't believe we can just tell Rita to do whatever we want. Hermione, you really are–"

   "Ooh, Professor Flitwick!" Hermione said suddenly, waving a hand in the air to catch the short professor's attention. She ran off to talk to him about Merlin knows what, leaving Cassie and Harry alone as they trudged back to the castle.

   "Oh, I never asked," said Cassie after a moment, "how was your date with Cho?"

   Harry's jaw tightened and he put his hands into the pockets of his robes. "It was fine, I guess."

   "Was it?" Cassie asked, arching an eyebrow and turning her head to face him. "I can tell when you're lying, you know."

   "She started crying," Harry admitted. Out of all the things Cassie could have expected him to say, that was not one of them. "I told her I was meeting Hermione after her and she got all cold and then asked about Cedric, and before I could even reply, she was crying and running out of the teashop and – what's so funny?"

Cassie had broken into giggles and she clutched her stomach. "Harry, you're such an idiot," she said through her laughter, wiping her eyes. "She was probably jealous you said you were meeting another girl on Valentine's Day! You should have said Hermione made you come, and that you would have rather spent the full day with Cho."

"Oh," said Harry, a half-smile growing onto his face. "I suppose I am a bit of an idiot."

"Yeah," said Cassie, grinning and shaking her head. "A bit."