Cassie was in Hagrid's arms when she came to with a start.
The first thing she asked, rather shrilly, was, "The letter? Where is it, Hagrid?"
"I have it, Cassie. It's safe." The voice of Severus Snape answered her, and she let her head fall back against Hagrid's massive shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief. At least it wasn't in the hands of some random student. If the magical community wanted a reason to fly off the handle, Bellatrix Lestrange sending a letter from Azkaban to her daughter was certainly enough to provide one.
Severus was gliding along beside Hagrid, matching the half-giant's long strides as they moved quickly through the castle and away from the stares of the student body. Cassie felt eyes following them from every direction, and she was suddenly grateful to be carried. She wasn't entirely certain her legs would cooperate if Hagrid put her down.
"We're goin' ter the hospital wing," Hagrid told her gruffly.
"No, no, Hagrid," Cassie protested, beginning to wriggle in his grasp. "I don't need to go there. I'm fine, honest."
"Cass," Hagrid said sternly, tightening his grip just enough to prevent her escape, "yer passed out! Almost landed right on yer noggin!"
"Actually," Severus said smoothly, "I think it would be more advantageous to get her to the Headmaster's office for the time being."
"And I can walk there," Cassie added, relieved that he seemed to be on the same page as her.
Hagrid stopped, looking between the two of them. He let out a long, irritated puff through his beard. "Fine. We'll go ter the Headmaster's, if that's what yer Head o' House wants," he grumbled, changing direction. "But yer not walkin'!"
When they reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, Hagrid finally set Cassie down as gingerly as he could. Before she could protest, he pulled a bar of chocolate from his pocket and thrust it into her hands.
"Hagrid, you're very kind," Cassie told him softly. She tried to smile, hoping to demonstrate that she was, indeed, grateful for his help even if she wasn't particularly interested in cooperating with him at the moment.
She squeaked when he suddenly pulled her into a powerful, one-armed hug.
"I dunno what's all goin' on with ya," he said quietly, patting her on the head with one enormous hand. "I jus' know yer got a lot goin' on. Yer classes, the bit with the centaurs, an' the other day when you were cryin' but pretendin' like ya weren't when I asked yer about it." His voice softened. "But take care of yerself, hear me?"
Cassie swallowed. "I'll try."
Hagrid released her, and she watched as he exchanged a knowing look with Severus. It was a look that said far more than words ever could.
Then the gamekeeper turned and lumbered away, leaving Cassie and Severus alone outside the Headmaster's office. They entered together. Severus couldn't help himself. Before they had even reached Dumbledore's desk, he had pulled Bellatrix's letter from his robes and was studying it again, his dark eyes skimming over the words.
Cassie sat down heavily and nodded politely to Dumbledore before tearing open the chocolate Hagrid had given her.
"Miss Black, are you feeling a bit better?" Dumbledore asked gently.
Cassie nodded and shoved an entire square of chocolate into her mouth.
"Does it look like her handwriting to you?" Severus asked. He thrust the letter toward her.
Cassie tentatively took it, as though the parchment itself might bite her.
She looked down. Immediately, she heard her mother's voice again.
Not the voice Bellatrix had used when Cassie was a little girl.
The voice from the letter.
Crazed. Possessive. Accusing.
Cassie quickly set the parchment on Dumbledore's desk.
"I haven't seen her handwriting in quite a while," she admitted. "Anything I might still have of hers is at Malfoy Manor, and I don't make a habit of reading any of it. It brings back bad memories."
"But does it remind you of her penmanship?" Severus pressed.
Cassie glared at him. "I don't know, Severus! I was a child the last time I got a card or anything of the sort from her, and I've never been lucky enough to receive a letter from Azkaban until this morning, so it's rather difficult to recall!"
Dumbledore had opened one of the drawers in his desk and was rummaging through it. Neither of them paid much attention.
"You're lying," Severus said. Cassie's head snapped toward him. He had turned in his chair, leaning toward her, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. His temper was beginning to flare in response to hers. "You wouldn't have blacked out if you hadn't had some initial reaction to seeing it. Some subliminal recognition."
Cassie's jaw tightened. "So what? You think I'm in denial?"
"I suspect that, yes. And that isn't going to help us reach a proper conclusion."
"Well, forgive me, oh perfect one, for being a bit caught off guard by this whole thing!" she snapped. "I wasn't expecting to get a letter from my criminally insane mother while I was eating breakfast!"
She broke off another piece of chocolate and shoved it into her mouth.
Severus looked as though he was about to retort, but Dumbledore cleared his throat. "The two of you spat," he observed, sounding rather bemused, "like an old married couple."
Whatever Severus had been about to say died instantly. His skin seemed to turn several shades paler, and he straightened in his chair, looking at the older wizard with open suspicion.
Cassie, meanwhile, nearly choked on her chocolate.
Severus immediately turned toward her and patted her back several times. "I'm fine," she wheezed.
"Clearly."
Dumbledore seemed completely oblivious to the reaction he had caused.
He picked up the small golden trinket he had retrieved from his desk and placed it over one eye, making it appear as though he were wearing an elaborate golden eyepatch.
Cassie blinked. "What is that?"
"A rather useful little device," Dumbledore replied. He picked up Bellatrix's letter, along with another piece of parchment he had retrieved from a file across the room. He studied the two carefully for several minutes. "Well," he said at last. He removed the golden device from his eye and set it aside. "After comparing the letter with a piece of Bellatrix's old homework, it appears that the script was indeed written by the same hand. Granted," Dumbledore continued, "the recent letter is somewhat shakier. Although I doubt she gets much opportunity to write while confined in prison."
Dumbledore slid her mother's letter toward her. Cassie pushed it back. "I don't want to look at it."
"Miss Black, we cannot say precisely why she sent it."
"I don't care why." Her voice came out sharper than she intended. "Someone offered her the opportunity, and she took it. The question is, who helped her?" She caught the brief glance exchanged between the two men. Her irritation immediately intensified. They did that constantly. Those silent conversations with those looks. Those moments when they assumed something about her and decided, between themselves, that she didn't need to know. "The Ministry controls Azkaban, right?"
"Yes," Severus answered.
"So why did someone who works for the Ministry help her send me something?" Cassie demanded. "What's their game?"
"One cannot be entirely sure," Dumbledore replied. "But my hypothesis is that someone in the Ministry is attempting to tempt you into doing something you should not."
"Like what?"
"Speak to your mother."
Cassie stared at him. "But how? How would I even send a letter to Azkaban? I don't understand."
"There will likely be more letters," Dumbledore explained. "Possibly instructions regarding how to reach her, should you choose to do so." His expression became grave. "But I believe whoever is orchestrating this is waiting for you to make an attempt. They may then use your actions against you."
Cassie shook her head and buried her face in her hands.
"I know it isn't fair, Miss Black—" Dumbledore started.
"Of course it isn't!" Severus's voice cracked through the room. "Have they nothing better to do than sit around and devise ways to ruin her life?"
Dumbledore regarded him for a moment before continuing. "Again, this is merely my theory. And I would not necessarily say 'they.' I suspect Cornelius is acting primarily out of fear."
Cassie slowly looked up. Tears glistened in her eyes, blurring her vision. "Fear of what? I've done nothing! Nothing has happened since that day in Hogsmeade, and supposedly I've been cleared of that in his eyes!"
The two men exchanged another look. Cassie's stomach dropped. There it was again. That infuriating, silent exchange that told her they knew something she didn't.
She stood abruptly. "You're not telling me something!" Her hands landed on the back of the chair. She gripped it tightly, using the solid wood to ground herself before her emotions could get the better of her. Severus and Dumbledore looked at one another again. Cassie closed her eyes.
"I promise I'll try to stay calm," she said, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "But you two are treating me like I'm an imbecile. Like I'm too fragile to handle whatever it is."
"You should know, Miss Black, that neither of us thinks of you that way," Dumbledore replied.
The look she gave him could have cut through stone. "Enough. I want to know." Silence.
For several seconds, neither wizard spoke. Then Cassie's glare settled on Severus. His black eyes were fixed upon her, and he didn't look away. Something in his expression, as if he were debating with himself, made her anger falter.
Whatever he was about to tell her was painful. Whether the pain would belong to her or to him, she couldn't yet determine.
"Cassie," he began softly. She returned to her chair beside him, hoping that being near him again would somehow pacify the turmoil inside her. "There is a prophecy concerning you," he continued. "It is located in the Department of Mysteries. It was made by Sybill Trelawney."
Cassie stared at him. "Okay." She took a shaky breath. "When?"
"A long time ago." His voice lowered. "When you were a small child."
She broke eye contact and looked toward Dumbledore instead. "How long have you known?"
"Since the prophecy was made." Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk, his expression unusually somber. "Sybill herself was unaware that she had made it, which is generally how her genuine predictions occur. I beg you not to become distrustful of her because of this."
"So you've known for that long," Cassie whispered, "and you didn't tell me?" Dumbledore didn't answer.
"I've known as well," Severus said quietly.
Cassie turned back toward him. Her heart sank. She had expected Dumbledore to know. Somehow, learning that Severus had known all along hurt infinitely more.
She blinked rapidly, fighting tears. "What does the prophecy say?"
"Fundamentally," Severus said slowly, "what you learned from the centaurs that night in the forest."
"Wait," she said sharply, standing so quickly that her chair scraped backward. Severus rose as well, instinctively reaching for her. She stepped away. "So when I came to you that night—when I poured my heart out to you—you were more concerned about the fact that I'd gone to see the centaurs than what I'd learned from them because you already knew?"
"Cassie—"
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I was going to that night," Severus said quietly, taking a step toward her. "Until I learned where you had gone. I did not think it would be beneficial to tell you then, not after everything you'd been through."
"Well, thanks for sparing my feelings!" Her voice cracked. "It's not as though you haven't had plenty of opportunities since then!"
She turned toward Dumbledore. "And you! That night on the Astronomy Tower would have been the perfect opportunity to mention it!" The red-hot anger began to rise. Cassie knew that feeling.
The terrible pressure beneath her skin. The magic gathering around her like a storm. For one terrifying second, she wanted to let it loose.
She wanted the windows to shatter and the furniture to tremble. She wanted the room to feel even a fraction of the fury tearing through her.
But she had promised.
So she closed her eyes and breathed. Slowed her heartbeat. Cleared her mind.
Just as Severus had taught her.
Several long minutes passed before the rage finally began to recede.
When she opened her eyes, Severus was still standing in front of her.
His expression had softened. That almost made it worse.
"So that's it, then?" she asked quietly. "Fudge knows about this prophecy. He thinks I'm destined for destruction, and that's why I have a target on my back."
"Fudge does not necessarily take prophecies seriously," Dumbledore replied. "At least, not according to those who work closely with him."
"But?"
"It does not mean yours doesn't make him uneasy."
Cassie ran a hand through her thick hair. "I'm screwed, then, aren't I? He's never going to leave me alone," she continued. "And he'll never let me work for the Ministry."
"We don't know that for certain," Severus said softly.
"Not for certain." Cassie gave a humorless laugh. "But likely." Then another thought struck her. She turned toward Dumbledore, a bitter smile forming on her face. "Oh, Headmaster. Don't tell me this isn't exactly what you wanted."
"Cassiopeia, I have said nothing of the sort." A warning flashed in his blue eyes. It was the look he gave her whenever she was approaching a boundary.
She knew she had probably crossed several already. She didn't care.
"But if I can't become an Auror, then I'm free to go through your little training program, aren't I?" She moved toward his desk, leaning forward until her blue eyes met his. "Isn't that convenient?"
"Miss Black," Dumbledore said lightly, "are you attempting to implicate me in something?"
"Can you blame me after what you've been keeping from me?"
"I was merely exploring other options for you," he replied. "Knowing that Fudge may prevent you from becoming an Auror, I wanted you to have access to formal education that could still serve you well." He paused.
"If he permits you into the Auror program, I will not stop you."
"I don't believe you." Cassie's voice was quiet now. Almost exhausted. She felt Severus's hand settle on her shoulder. She shrugged it off roughly. "Don't touch me."
"Cassie!" His voice sharpened. "You are being completely disrespectful to the Headmaster."
"She is under considerable stress, Severus," Dumbledore interjected. "One can hardly blame her for lashing out. Perhaps she would benefit from continuing this conversation at another time."
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Cassie's voice shook with frustration. She turned away from both of them. "Merlin knows that's how you two are accustomed to conducting yourselves."
Severus's voice was firm. "This discussion ends only after we agree on what to do if more letters arrive." He caught Cassie's forearm as she moved toward the door. "And since you have insisted that you be included from now on, you are not simply walking away."
She glared at him, but she stayed. "Fine." She turned back toward Dumbledore. "What do you want me to do?"
"For the time being, I think we allow as many letters to arrive as possible," Dumbledore said. "We observe how far Bellatrix—and whoever is assisting her—will take this." His expression hardened. "If their objective is to make you respond, I would like to see what lengths they will go to to appeal to your emotions."
Cassie's anger suddenly drained away. "And what if I am tempted?" The question came out much quieter than the others. For the first time during the entire conversation, Dumbledore looked momentarily at a loss. He hadn't considered it, or perhaps he hadn't wanted to.
"You will show every letter to Professor Snape immediately," he said at last. "No exceptions. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." She was exhausted and sick of looking at Dumbledore. Sick of being watched. Sick of everyone discussing her emotions as though they were some dangerous variable that needed to be managed.
And beneath all of that was something she couldn't bring herself to say aloud. Bellatrix was her mother. She might have been a monster, but she was still her mother. And Cassie had no idea what it would feel like to receive another letter from the woman she had spent years trying to forget. "May I be excused?"
"Yes, Miss Black," Dumbledore replied. "And Professor Snape shall accompany you, so that you may be assured we are not discussing you without your knowledge." He sounded sincere.
She left the office at a hurried pace, heading toward the dungeons without waiting for Severus. She considered going straight to her dormitory. It was midmorning; the room would likely be empty.
But her heart was in turmoil.
Part of her never wanted to see Severus again. Another part desperately wanted to be with him. Wanted his arms around her. Wanted to bury her face against his chest and forget that the rest of the world existed.
The conflict followed her down the corridor. When she reached the point where she needed to decide which direction to take, she stopped and turned around. Severus almost walked directly into her.
He had been following closely and had clearly not expected her to stop.
"Can I come to your rooms?" Her voice was quiet. She knew better than to say anything more where staff or students might overhear.
Severus looked at her in obvious bewilderment. Then he nodded. They continued through the dungeons in silence.
Once they were safely inside his living quarters, Cassie turned toward him. "This doesn't mean I'm not fucking pissed at you."
Severus closed the door behind them. "I know."
"I mean it."
"I know."
She folded her arms. "Then explain."
He stood in the center of the room, looking somber. "I was going to tell you. After you came out of the forest, however, I did not think it was an opportune time."
Cassie stared at him incredulously. "Severus, when exactly is it an opportune time to tell someone something like that? I've been with you day in and day out. I've shared your bed. I've trusted you with things I've never trusted anyone else with." Her voice trembled. "And you never once thought it might be a good idea to tell me?"
"'Never once thought'?" His voice rose. "Of course I've thought about it! Every bloody day!" He took a step toward her. "But do you know what stopped me, Cassie? Picturing your reaction. Because I knew you'd act like a damn martyr. Throw another dramatic pity party and blame yourself for something you couldn't possibly control."
"Oh, so my reaction to your lies is the problem?" Her eyes flashed. "Yes. That's what's wrong with this entire picture, Severus! Not the fact that you've known since I was a child that I was going to play some enormous role in my father's war!" Her voice cracked. "You saw how devastated I was when I heard it from Firenze. Did you honestly think it would go well when I found out you'd already known?"
"When was I supposed to tell you?" he demanded. "When you started your first year at Hogwarts at eleven? Perhaps when you turned fourteen, because then you would suddenly be so very mature and prepared to handle something like that?" He threw his hands up in frustration. "Tell me, Cassie. What age would have been appropriate for me to drop a prophecy of doom into the lap of a child? You've barely had a childhood as it is!"
"I know!" They stood staring at one another, both breathing hard. Then Cassie's anger softened into something much more painful.
"I wouldn't have expected you to tell me years ago," she said. Severus went still. "That's not why I'm angry." She swallowed. "I'm angry because you didn't tell me now. We're supposed to trust each other. "I don't want secrets kept between us."
"Why?" The question came out harsher than he meant it to. His black eyes glimmered with hurt and defensiveness as he watched her pace the room.
"Because I love you!" The words tore out of her. Silence. Absolute silence as Severus froze. For several seconds, he didn't appear to understand what she had said. Then his jaw slowly fell open.
His expression was one she had never seen before. Shock. Vulnerability.
Almost fear. "I love you, Severus Snape," she repeated. She crossed the room and stopped directly in front of him, rising onto her toes until her face was inches from his. "So none of this secretive crap anymore. Do you hear me?" Her voice softened. "We're in this together."
Severus stared at her for another long moment. Then he nodded slowly, as though he were accepting something he had spent months trying not to acknowledge.
Cassie pressed her lips to his. For a moment, he remained utterly still. Then the contact seemed to bring him back to himself.
He took her hand, enclosing it carefully in his, and guided her toward the loveseat. He sat and indicated for her to join him. "How can you say that?" he asked quietly. His voice had lost all of its earlier anger. "When I have betrayed your trust so recently?"
"Because I love you regardless." She squeezed his hands. "I think I've loved you for a while."
His eyes softened. "Me, too." Cassie smiled faintly. "I love you, too, Cassie."
Her expression changed. "You don't have to say it just because I did—"
He silenced her with another kiss. "I'm saying it because I feel it, too, you silly thing." The words were gentle and certain. And somehow, that certainty meant more to Cassie than any grand declaration could have.
They had other responsibilities. Classes to teach, lessons to attend.
They would not disappear merely because the two of them had finally said aloud what had been growing between them for months.
But for a little while, neither cared.
They made their way to the bedroom at a leisurely pace. It was a song they had danced to numerous times, the touching of skin on skin, the pressing of lips to fevered flesh, but this time it was different. Perhaps it was knowing that the secret between them had now come to the surface and was no longer a source of potential destruction. They were free of some sort of imperceptible meddler, some weight they hadn't realized had been pressing upon them and putting tension on their bond.
Severus was holding Cassie in his arms, lying warm and comfortable in his bed, when they exchanged those three little words again. It made her smile, her heart dance, feel so complete that all the troubles from earlier in the day seemed almost nonexistent. But eventually, they had to leave the contentment of being together. They had to go about the rest of their day.
Both were quiet as they put on their clothes, their minds wandering.
The prophecy was still there, and Bellatrix's letter was still waiting. Fudge was still watching. None of those things had changed.
But something between Cassie and Severus had. The secret was no longer sitting between them like a weapon. The truth had hurt, but it had not broken them. If anything, it had forced them to confront just how much they had come to depend upon one another.
Cassie was the first to break the silence. She shrugged her school robes over her uniform and looked toward Severus. He was nearly dressed, retrieving his black cloak from its resting place near the bedroom door. "Severus?"
"Hmm?"
"I should talk to Dumbledore about that training, shouldn't I?"
He paused. For a moment, he simply looked at her. Then he pulled the cloak over his shoulders, once again transforming into the severe, intimidating Potions Master the rest of Hogwarts knew. It was almost strange to see. In the span of a few months, he had gone from her friend and confidant to her greatest supporter, her lover, and now the person with whom she had chosen to share one of the most frightening truths of her life. But his eyes were still troubled. "Yes," he finally said.
Cassie watched him carefully. There was something in his tone that made her stomach tighten. "You're worried."
Severus looked away for a moment. "That training may be precisely what Dumbledore intends for you."
"And that bothers you?"
His eyes returned to hers. "Not the training." A pause. "What it means." Cassie frowned. Before she could ask him to elaborate, he moved toward the door. "Come."
She followed. But as they left his rooms together, neither of them noticed the faintest shift in the atmosphere beyond the dungeon corridor.
For the first time, Cassie knew the truth about the prophecy.
And somewhere beyond Hogwarts, others knew it too.