A Plan in Motion
Chapter 2: A Plan in Motion
Cassia paced in the small, dingy inn room she had rented for the night, her mind racing. Seeing Harry in that house—treated like nothing more than a servant—had set her blood boiling. Every instinct in her screamed to storm in, grab him, and leave.
But she knew better than to act on impulse.
Regulus had taught her patience. Reckless action without a plan led to mistakes. Mistakes led to disaster.
She needed a way to get Harry out withoutDumbledore knowing.
Cassia sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples. The problem wasn’t just sneaking Harry away—it was making sure no one could track them afterward.
Dumbledore had eyes everywhere. The blood wards around Privet Drive were supposedly there to protect Harry, but she wasn’t convinced. If they only worked while he stayed with his mother’s relatives, then they were just another way to trap him.
Which meant she needed a place safe from Dumbledore’s reach.
Grimmauld Place.
The moment the thought entered her mind, Cassia stilled.
It was the perfect location. The old Black family home had been sealed away since Sirius was imprisoned. Only a true Black could reclaim it. With the right wards and protections, it could become a sanctuary for Harry.
She could do this. She would do this.
Cassia stood and grabbed her bag. First, she needed to get inside Grimmauld Place and prepare it. Then, she’d figure out how to break Harry free.
Number 12, Grimmauld Place
Cassia stood before the familiar row of London townhouses, her heart pounding. To any Muggle, the numbers would go from eleven to thirteen with no sign of a hidden house between them. But Cassia felt it—magic humming beneath her skin, whispering of something unseen.
She stepped forward, placing her palm against the air where the house should be.
“I am Cassia Black, rightful heir of the House of Black. I claim my family’s home.”
The magic reacted instantly. A deep, resonant shudder ran through the air, and the building began to appear. Black bricks materialized, stretching upward, and the iron door emerged with its heavy serpent-shaped knocker.
Cassia smirked. Welcome home.
She pushed the door open, coughing as dust swirled in the stale air.
The house was exactly as her uncle had described it—dark, suffocating, filled with remnants of its former masters. The Black family had once been powerful, but time had left the house abandoned, its magic waiting for a new heir to take control.
Cassia dropped her bag and rolled up her sleeves. If this was going to be their new sanctuary, she had a lot of work to do.