Summer.
"The trick to sealing the type of card they'll get is using the Fidelius Charm, Cassidy. That way, it's a bit harder to figure out the figure the customers will receive."
Joshua Sweet smiled down at his daughter as he held out a Chocolate Frog box to her. Cassidy mustered a smile back, though for once, she felt no excitement about her father's craft.
It was late July, and for the most part, the summer had been uneventful. They'd traveled to Jamaica the week before to visit her cousin, who was getting engaged. Normally, Cassidy would have been thrilled about the trip, but this time, it did nothing to stir her.
Her thoughts were consumed by the necklace.
She hadn't asked her father about it yet—she wasn't ready. The necklace had been dormant since the encounter between Harry and You-Know-Who.
Her twelfth birthday had been pleasant enough, though she couldn't shake the nagging worry that Harry hadn't sent her anything—not even a note. Ron and Hermione had been thoughtful, though: Hermione sent a book titled Charms Every Young Witch Should Know, and Ron, with Mrs. Weasley's help, made her a hand-knitted Chocolate Frog replica. The Weasley twins, of course, had sent a birthday card that exploded in a chorus of off-key 'Happy Birthday.' Her father hadn't been pleased with that last one.
But today, Cassidy felt it was time to ask. As her father settled into his chair, absorbed in the Daily Prophet, and her mother busied herself with knitting, Cassidy cleared her throat.
"Dad," she called, her tone light but insistent.
Joshua hummed in acknowledgment without looking up. Amira glanced over from her knitting, then returned to her work.
"Dad," Cassidy said again, a little sharper.
"What is it, Cass?" Joshua asked, folding the paper and looking at her with raised eyebrows.
"This necklace," she said, holding it up by the chain so the stone caught the light. "It's... doing weird stuff."
For a brief moment, Joshua's expression froze. Then, he shifted in his chair. "What kind of weird stuff?"
"It gets hot sometimes—like burning hot. And it pulsed once when I was scared at Hogwarts, like it was trying to warn me or something. And then there was this one time—"
"Cassidy," Joshua interrupted, his voice carefully even. "It's just an old necklace. You're probably imagining things."
"Imagining things?" Cassidy repeated, her hazel eyes narrowing. "Dad, come on. Mum said it's been in our family forever. And you gave it to me for a reason, didn't you?"
Joshua's gaze flickered briefly to Amira, but she didn't meet his eyes, busy with her knitting.
"It's just tradition," he said, his voice quieter now, almost too quiet.
Cassidy's frown deepened. "Tradition doesn't make jewelry act alive. There's something about it, isn't there? Something you're not telling me."
Joshua sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Cassidy, there's no reason to get worked up over a family heirloom. It's nothing. Just drop it."
But Cassidy wasn't letting it go. "Why won't you just tell me? Is it cursed? Is it dangerous?" she pressed, her voice rising. "I keep having nightmares about it—"
"Cassandra, enough!" Joshua snapped, his voice harsher than she had ever heard it.
The outburst silenced her. Her father's face, usually so calm and steady, was drawn tight with tension. His eyes flicked briefly to the necklace before locking onto hers, his jaw clenched. Amira dropped her knitting and looked between them.
"Joshua," Amira started, but he cut her off, his tone low and firm.
"You don't need to know," he said, ignoring Amira. There was a tremor in his voice now—something fragile, almost frightened. "It doesn't matter. Forget it."
Cassidy blinked, her heart pounding. "Doesn't matter? Dad, it's reacting to Dark Magic! Why would it do that if it doesn't matter?"
"Do not mention that type of magic in this house," Joshua said quietly but firmly.
"Please..." Cassidy trailed off.
Joshua stood abruptly, the paper slipping from his lap and falling to the floor. "Cass, just let it go," he said, his voice quieter now, but still strained. "Please."
The last word hung in the air, not as a command, but as a plea—a crack in his usual calm.
Cassidy stared at him, searching his face for the answers he wasn't ready to give. "Fine," she muttered, her voice small. She turned and walked toward the stairs without another word. Her mother glared at Joshua before following her.
Joshua didn't stop her. Once the sound of their footsteps faded, he sank back into his chair, running a hand over his face.
"Not again," he whispered to himself. "Not her."
Cassidy stormed into her room before her mother could catch up to her, closing the door quickly and locking it.
Her father's voice echoed in her head.
"Please."
The weight of his plea, the fear in his voice—it was unlike anything she had ever seen in him before. Her dad, who always seemed so confident, so unshakable, had been shaken to his core by the mere mention of the necklace.
Cassidy looked down at the pendant in her hand, the light catching on its smooth, polished surface. It felt cool now, as if mocking her for the heat and warnings it had given her before.
"What are you hiding from me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
She moved to her desk, pulling out parchment and quill. If her father wouldn't tell her the truth, she'd find it another way. She wasn't sure where to start, but one thing was certain: this wasn't just some family heirloom.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
"Cassidy, love," her mother's voice came through, gentle but concerned. "Can I come in?"
Cassidy hesitated, staring at the door. She wanted to be alone, but her mother's voice lacked the edge her father's had carried.
"Alright," she said reluctantly, unlocking the door with a flick of her wand. Moony gently rustled in his cage, his soft silver feathers ruffling in the moonlight.
Amira stepped inside, her movements careful as if Cassidy might break. Her mother's dark eyes studied her, softening with a mix of love and worry.
"I'm sorry," Amira said, sitting on the edge of Cassidy's bed. "Your father... he didn't mean to upset you."
Cassidy scoffed, folding her arms. "He's not upset with me, Mum. He's upset with the truth. Whatever this is"—she held up the necklace—"it's not nothing. And you know it too, don't you?"
Amira's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze dropping to the pendant.
"Mum," Cassidy pressed, her voice trembling. "Please. Just tell me what it is."
Amira's silence felt like an eternity. Finally, she reached out, taking Cassidy's hand in hers.
"There are things, Cassidy," she began, her voice quiet but steady, "that are... buried in the past for a reason. Some truths can be dangerous, even for those who seek them with the best intentions."
Cassidy pulled her hand away, her frustration bubbling over. "Why do you both talk in riddles? Do you even know what it is, or are you just as clueless as Dad pretends to be?"
Her mother flinched, but she didn't snap back. Instead, she stood and walked to the window, staring out at the garden below.
"When I married your father," Amira said softly, "I knew there were parts of his life he wouldn't share. Parts tied to his family—things even I wasn't meant to know. This necklace was one of them." She turned back to Cassidy, her expression unreadable. "But I do know this: your father gave it to you because he loves you. Whatever it is, he believed it would protect you."
Cassidy's jaw tightened. "Protect me from what?"
Her mother shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I trust your father, Cassidy. And I trust you to be careful."
"Careful," Cassidy repeated bitterly, sinking into her desk chair. "Right."
Amira lingered for a moment before sighing and heading for the door. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here," she said quietly before closing it behind her.
Cassidy waited until the sound of her mother's footsteps faded. Then she turned back to the necklace, holding it up so it caught the moonlight streaming through the window.
"Protect me," she murmured. "From what, though? All this thing's been doing is putting me in danger." She scoffed.
As she stared at the pendant, something strange happened. For a brief moment, the stone shimmered faintly, a flicker of warmth brushing her fingers. It was so subtle she almost thought she imagined it.
But she knew better now.
Clenching her jaw, Cassidy grabbed a piece of parchment and prepared to write a letter to Dumbledore. He had to have something to do with the necklace, right? His name had been on the ripped page in that book they'd seen in the library last term, the book that probably had the only information on the trinket.
If her parents wouldn't tell her the truth, she'd find it herself.
Cassidy had barely started writing when the soft tap, tap, tap of an owl at her window made her jump. Startled, she whipped around to see a familiar, slightly bedraggled owl perched outside, looking rather impatient. She recognized him from the time he'd dropped off the gifts from the Weasleys.
"Errol?" she muttered, rushing to the window. The Weasleys' old owl looked like he'd flown a marathon, and as soon as she opened the window, he fluttered inside and collapsed onto her desk, panting heavily.
"Blimey, you alright?" Cassidy asked, gently taking the letter tied to his leg. She placed him on a spare perch she kept for her own owl, Moony, and offered him a bit of water. Errol hooted weakly in thanks before closing his eyes.
Cassidy turned her attention to the letter, quickly unrolling it.
Cass,
Sorry for the short birthday note—Mum's been running us ragged cleaning the house. Happy birthday again, though! I hope you liked the chocolate frog thing. Fred and George said it was rubbish, but what do they know?
Anyway, I need your help. Harry hasn't been answering any of my letters—or Hermione's! We think something's wrong. Mum and Dad are worried too, but they said it's nothing. But I know Harry wouldn't just ignore us.
Fred, George, and I are planning something to check on him, but we'll need your help. Can you come to the Burrow? Use Floo powder if you have to sneak out—just don't tell my Mum you're coming. She'd probably have a fit.
-Ron
Cassidy read the letter twice, her stomach twisting. Harry wasn't replying to anyone? That wasn't like him at all.
Her gaze flicked to Errol, who was still half-asleep on the perch. The Weasleys clearly trusted her enough to involve her, and she wasn't about to let them down.
"Alright," she whispered to herself, grabbing her old school bag and stuffing it with Floo powder, her wand, and a few other things. She'd have to sneak past her parents, but she'd done it before.
She paused, her hand brushing the necklace around her neck. For a moment, she considered leaving it behind, but something stopped her. Shaking off the thought, she tucked it under her shirt.
Quietly, Cassidy crept out of her room and down the hall, careful not to make a sound. The house was still, and she could hear her father's soft snores from her parent's bedroom.
When she reached the fireplace, she took a deep breath, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and whispered, "The Burrow," before stepping into the emerald flames.
"Hang in there, Harry." she whispered to no one in particular.
The world started spinning, and Cassidy closed her eyes.