Chapter 18
"Have you spoken to Hermione?" Ron asked Harry as the three walked up the moonlit stairs.
"She should be out of hospital in a few days," replied Harry, gazing at the paintings as they waved to him. "She's still coughing up furballs."
Cassidy shuddered, remembering how one had landed on her shirt when she went over to visit. Suddenly, the three came to a stop in front of a large puddle of water.
"What's all this?" Cassidy asked quizzically. Not waiting for an answer, they all rushed forward, the water splashing beneath their robes. They followed the water into a long hallway, which looked to be flooded.
"Yuck!" Ron exclaimed.
"Looks like Moaning Myrtle's flooding the bathroom," Harry observed.
"Didn't know Myrtle's tears could become physical." Cassidy half-joked, though her necklace warmed up again. She clenched it, swallowing hard as a strange unease settled in her chest.
The three walked into Myrtle's bathroom tentatively, hearing her sobs and groans. They found her sitting on the windowsill higher up, looking out at the moon before turning to them.
"Come to throw something else at me?" she said miserably, batting her eyelashes.
"Yes." Cassidy deadpanned, causing Harry to give her a sharp look. She shut up.
"Why would I throw something at you?" Harry asked in confusion. Myrtle turned to face them now, glaring at Cassidy before speaking.
"Don't ask me. Here I am, minding my own business—"
"Debatable," Cassidy muttered under her breath.
"-and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."
Cassidy's necklace glowed furiously then, and the other two noticed. Even Myrtle paused, eyeing the necklace curiously.
"Ooo, Cassie's got a sweet little trinket." Myrtle mocked. "What's it for?"
"That's none of your business, Myrtle," Cassidy snapped. Myrtle's eyes narrowed.
Suddenly, Myrtle burst into tears. Cassidy rolled her eyes, but her necklace seemed to thrum with a warning, which made her pause for a moment.
"Cass, rein it in, will ya?" Ron hissed, noticing the tension in the air. Cassidy sighed, but her voice softened, despite her frustration.
"I'm sorry, Myrtle," she said, her tone now syrupy sweet. "Now, can you please tell us who threw a book at you so I can go congratulate— I mean, scold the person?"
"Plus, it doesn't really hurt when someone throws a book at you," Ron added. "Won't it just... go through you?"
Myrtle zoomed toward them, her face twisted with fury. "WELL SURE! Let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it! Ten points if you get it through her stomach!" She poked her hand into Ron's stomach, making him jump.
"What's your problem, ghoul?" Cassidy snapped, crossing her arms.
Myrtle gasped, her voice turning shrill. "Don't you ever," she started, "call me a ghoul!" She whirled to face Cassidy, her face flushed with anger. "Fifty points if it goes through her head!" With that, Myrtle thrust her fist through Cassidy's head, making her shiver.
"Oi! You can't—" Ron began, stepping toward Myrtle to intervene.
"But who threw it at you, anyway?" Harry asked quickly, trying to de-escalate the situation before Cassidy's temper got the better of her.
Myrtle paused for a moment, then floated away, voice softening. "I don't know, I didn't see them." She sighed dramatically. "I was just sitting here, thinking about death—and it fell through the top of my head." She turned and floated away again, clearly bored and already on the verge of starting another round of crying.
Harry bent down to the floor, picking up a book. Cassidy's heart skipped a beat as she recognized it. There was something familiar about it, though she couldn't quite place it.
"Harry, you don't just go around picking up random books you find on the floor," she hissed, stepping toward him. The uneasy feeling her necklace had given her intensified.
"And you don't just go around insulting everyone you meet, Cass." Harry shot back, clearly irritated, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. Cassidy bit her lip, looking away with a small sigh, her gaze flicking to the book in Harry's hand.
That night, Cassidy lay wide awake in her four-poster bed, her necklace warm against her skin. The strange feeling from earlier still lingered, gnawing at her like an itch she couldn't reach. She tried to ignore it, but sleep eventually pulled her under.
The dream came swiftly, as it always did when something important was stirring.
Cassidy found herself standing in a dimly lit room, the walls lined with old, dusty bookshelves. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and something else—something sharp. Her feet didn't touch the ground as she glided forward, her heart pounding. It wasn't a place she knew, yet it felt oddly familiar, like a memory buried deep inside her.
A figure appeared ahead of her, cloaked in shadows. She couldn't see their face, but their presence was overwhelming—strong, commanding. The figure's hand reached out, and Cassidy instinctively took it, feeling a surge of power course through her as though they were connected by something deeper than just a dream.
The figure's voice echoed in her mind, low and distant. "You must remember... You must fight..."
Cassidy's chest tightened, the words clinging to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, the figure pulled her toward an ancient door that creaked open on its own, revealing an object bathed in a soft, eerie glow.
It was a necklace, just like hers—darker, older, its surface etched with symbols she couldn't quite decipher. The necklace pulsed with an energy that felt both dangerous and familiar. Cassidy reached for it, but the figure stopped her, their hand pressing gently but firmly against her wrist.
"Not yet," the figure whispered, though the voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away. "The path is not clear... until it is."
Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet began to shake, the walls warping around her, and Cassidy felt herself being pulled away. A vision of green light flashed before her eyes, followed by the distant sound of a book hitting the floor.
Cassidy gasped, her breath coming in quick bursts as she snapped awake. Her heart raced in her chest, and her hand instinctively went to her necklace. She could still feel the lingering pull of that vision, the weight of it pressing on her mind.
What was that all about? She wasn't sure, but she had a sinking feeling it had something to do with what she'd seen earlier—the book Harry had picked up, the way her necklace had reacted.
She sat up for a moment. Then she got up, going to find Harry.
⋆⋆✧⋆⋆✺⋆✷⋆✧⋆⋆⋆✺⋆⋆✷⋆✧⋆
Rushing down into the common room, necklace getting warmer with each step, Cassidy needed to shield her eyes from the blinding light coming from the very book she had come to warn Harry about. Harry was nowhere to be seen.
"Harry? Harry!" Cassidy yelled, not caring if she woke anyone up. She dashed towards the book, and was suddenly thrown back when Harry's body was propelled from it. They crashed onto the floor in a heap, and Cassidy's necklace burned against Harry's skin.
"Argh!" He exclaimed, scrambling off of Cassidy and straightening up. Holding out his hand, Harry helped her up from the ground. She was still trembling.
"What happened?" Cassidy asked, searching Harry's face for answers and not waiting for him to reply. "Harry, that book- it's no good, I can feel it. I had a dream, it was horrible-"
"That book just showed me the past, Cassidy." He replied quickly, silencing her.
Cassidy stared at her, wide eyes reflecting the embers of the fireplace.
"What?"