Interlude The Second
Later that night
Cassidy sat curled up in one of the Gryffindor common room's oversized armchairs, staring into the flickering fire. Harry had disappeared again, mumbling something about needing to go to bed. Ron was sprawled out on the couch nearby, his head resting on the armrest, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"You're awfully quiet," Ron muttered, his voice thick with drowsiness.
Cassidy glanced over, startled. "What?"
"In the classroom earlier," Ron said, shifting to look at her properly. "You didn't tell us what you saw in the mirror."
Cassidy hesitated, her gaze returning to the flames. The image from the Mirror of Erised still lingered in her mind—her confident reflection, holding that dazzling trophy, basking in the admiration of her peers.
"It's nothing," she said lightly, forcing a smile. "Not important."
Ron snorted, propping himself up on one elbow. "Come on, Cass. I told you I saw myself winning at everything. Head Boy, Quidditch Captain—completely ridiculous stuff. You can't be more embarrassing than that."
Cassidy sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It's not embarrassing, exactly. It's just... personal."
Ron tilted his head, his curiosity clearly piqued. "Personal how?"
"It's..." Cassidy hesitated, unsure how to explain without sounding silly. "I saw myself being... admired. Like, people were clapping for me, celebrating me. I was holding this huge trophy, and it felt like, I dunno, like I'd finally made a name for myself. Like I wasn't just there—I mattered."
Ron blinked at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "That's it?"
Cassidy frowned. "What do you mean, 'that's it'?"
"I mean, that's not embarrassing at all," Ron said, sitting up properly now. "Everyone wants to matter. I mean, look at me—I saw myself holding the Quidditch Cup and being Head Boy. It's not exactly subtle, is it?"
Cassidy huffed a laugh despite herself. "You're just trying to make me feel better."
Ron shook his head. "I'm serious, Cass. You're already brilliant, you know? You've got all these ideas and, like, this fearless thing going on. If people don't notice that, it's their loss."
Cassidy glanced at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. She wasn't used to Ron being so... sincere.
"Thanks, Weasley," she said, her voice softer than usual.
"Anytime," he replied with a grin, leaning back into the couch. "Just don't start thinking you're cooler than me. That'd be a nightmare."
Cassidy rolled her eyes, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at him. "Don't worry, you're safe. For now."
Ron laughed, catching the pillow and setting it aside. "Seriously, though. You're part of all this—Harry, me, Hermione, everything. You're not just there. You matter, Cass. A lot."
Cassidy didn't say anything right away. Instead, she let herself relax into the warmth of the fire, Ron's words settling in her chest.
As his breathing evened out, Cassidy let herself relax, the fire casting soft shadows across the room.
But even if she denied it, there was still a nagging insecurity in the back of her mind, one that she'd refuse to admit, probably for many years.
For now, she simply let herself doze off next to her red-haired friend, who was snoring lightly.