Memories of Them

The following week was unbearable for Cassie. Every movement seemed to set off waves of pain radiating from her back and shoulders. Getting dressed was a struggle, carrying her school bag sent sharp pangs through her muscles, and even completing the simplest wand movements in class caused her to wince. Each day the discomfort seemed to worsen, and by Thursday, she was barely able to mask the pain.

Her friends had started giving her strange, concerned looks every time a small whimper slipped out, despite her efforts to remain composed. She could feel their worry, but she brushed it off each time, insisting she was fine—until it became impossible to ignore.

By the time Thursday afternoon rolled around, Cassie finally conceded that she couldn’t keep this up. The pain was relentless. After a particularly strenuous morning Herbology class Cassie decided to skip her afternoon Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures lessons and make her way to the Hospital Wing; her steps slow and cautious, as even the weight of her school bag felt like it was pulling her muscles apart.

Arriving at the door to the infirmary, she took a deep breath and pushed it open, the sterile scent of healing potions greeting her as she stepped inside. Madame Pomfrey was already bustling about, tending to a few other students, but her sharp eyes immediately noticed Cassie’s hunched posture and the pained expression she was trying to hide.

"Miss Vaughn?" Madame Pomfrey asked, her tone brisk but concerned as she approached.

Cassie gave her a small, tired smile, knowing she couldn’t hide the truth any longer. "I think I’ve overdone it," she admitted, her voice tinged with exhaustion, a hiss of pain leaving her lips as her bag slipped from her shoulder and landed with a thud on the floor.

“Let’s get you set up over here Dear,” Madame Pomfrey said kindly, leading her to one of the available beds.

Sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress Cassie waited for the curtain to be brought around the bed before beginning her explanation. 

“I had a bit of a crazy weekend, I stupidly decided to join in with a Quidditch practice before some friends played a friendly game,” noticing Madame Pomfrey’s raised eyebrow, she quickly clarified, “I wasn’t on a broom! Just some throwing and catching exercises. Ever since I had the worst radiating pain from my shoulder all the way down my back. It’s different though, it doesn’t sting like a flesh wound, this feels more muscular or like it’s in my bones,” she hurriedly tried to explain, praying that Madame Pomfrey believed her long winded lie. 

“I’m going to save you the long chastising rant,” the older woman began, a severe look on her face, “but really Cassandra? Quidditch?! You recovered from multiple broken bones and significant internal bleeding less than 3 months ago! You’re still receiving treatment for an injury caused by an unknown spell and you think Quidditch is a good idea?” 

“This kind of feels like a chastising rant,” Cassie mumbled under her breath, a cheeky grin playing on her lips.

“You’re lucky I don’t send your father an owl,” Madame Pomfrey snapped back sassily, “I can guarantee his reprimanding would be significantly worse!”

“I’m sorry, I was just feeling so much better after all of your brilliant healing. I almost forgot I was ever injured,” she laughed trying to flatter the matron. 

“Your praise will get you nowhere,” Madame Pomfrey grumbled, “I’m going to need to examine you again,” With a sharp snap, Madame Pomfrey yanked the curtain open, her no-nonsense attitude in full force as she bustled about gathering supplies. "Well, let’s not waste any more time. Remove your school dress and blazer, and lie down on your front. I’ll have a look at the damage," she instructed, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Cassie nodded, wincing slightly as she shrugged off her blazer. Every movement sent a fresh wave of pain through her body, but she managed to unbutton her school dress, carefully slipping it off. She folded her clothes neatly, more out of habit than anything else, and laid them on a nearby chair.

With a deep breath, she climbed onto the hospital bed, lying down on her stomach as instructed. Madame Pomfrey returned with a small tray of potions and salves, her footsteps quick and efficient. "Let’s have a look then," she murmured as she pulled a small stool next to the bed, her experienced hands already reaching out to examine the areas of tension whilst delicately peeling away the bandage. The healer’s hands were gentle but firm as she examined the tight, knotted muscles across Cassie’s shoulders and back. Cassie winced as Madame Pomfrey pressed down on a particularly painful spot but said nothing, biting her lip to keep from whimpering again.

“Hmm, the actual wound is looking much better. The infection appears to have almost cleared and the whole thing is scabbing over nicely. I am going to give it all another dousing in antiseptic potion just to make sure it remains nice and clean,” she explained, “The skin around the wound appears to be slightly inflamed which I expect is adding to your pain, but I agree that the root cause of your current pain is probably muscular-skeletal. You're already weakened by this injury, but your continued lack of mobility due to pain has meant you have lost some function. I think we’ll start a simple treatment and see how you go. I'm prescribing muscle relaxants, a pain-free potion and most importantly rest. I’ll sign you off lessons for this afternoon and tomorrow, a slow weekend should have you feeling a lot better next week.” 

“But Madame! I can’t fall behind, I’ve got almost an entire day of NEWT classes tomorrow!” Cassie whined, trying to sit up. Before she could fully rise, Madame Pomfrey gently but firmly pressed her back down into the lying position, her hands continuing to work with methodical precision along Cassie’s sore back. 

“Well, I’m forbidding all practical lessons. You may take notes and learn theory, but that is it,” the older woman conceded, her voice firm yet laced with an undercurrent of concern. Her sharp eyes, softened by age, flickered over Cassie, lingering briefly on her tightness in her posture, her fingers over the obvious knots in the young girl's back. She knew how studious the young woman was—too studious, in fact. It was written in the slight hunch of her shoulders, the deep shadows under her eyes, and the way she always carried that bulging bag  its worn straps stretched under the weight of books and scrolls

"And someone needs to carry that ridiculously heavy bag for you. You're doing yourself no favours,” she added, her tone softening, though the reprimand was still clear. The older woman shook her head, as if in disbelief that Cassie continued to push herself so hard, despite all her warnings.

Cassie just grunted in response, burying her head deeper into the pillow. She didn’t argue—she knew better than to try. Even though she wanted to protest, some part of her understood that she was right. The silence between them stretched for a moment, filled with the weight of unspoken concerns. The older woman watched her for a beat longer before finally sighing. 

"You'll thank me one day," the older woman muttered under her breath, more to herself than to Cassie, but Cassie heard it nonetheless, a small smile tugged at her lips.

Before she was allowed to be discharged from the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey continued her careful ministrations. She expertly massaged a cool, tingling salve across Cassie’s back, the soothing balm instantly relieving the tension and dulling the pain that had been plaguing her for days. 

“Just a little more,” Madame Pomfrey murmured, her voice steady and reassuring as she worked. Once she was satisfied with the salve's application, she turned her attention to two small vials of potion, sitting on the wooden bedside table. “Now, you need to drink these,” she instructed, handing Cassie the pain-free and muscle relaxant potions.

Cassie took the vial, her fingers trembling slightly as she uncorked the first one. The liquid shimmered a calming shade of blue, and she could already smell the soothing herbal notes wafting up to her nose. With a resigned sigh, she downed the potion in one swift gulp. The taste was surprisingly pleasant, a mix of mint and chamomile. The second potion was a blush pink colour and a thicker consistency. As soon as she uncorked it she was reminded of autumn, the smell of pumpkin and vanilla wafting from the vial. With a quick swig, Cassie's mouth was unexpectedly filled with the warm, homey spice of cinnamon. It tingled on her tongue, a comforting and familiar flavour. 

“Good. That should help with any residual discomfort,” Madame Pomfrey said, watching Cassie carefully as she settled back into the pillows. “Now, I want you to rest for a while. I’ll check on you in a bit to see how you’re feeling. No sneaking off to class until I say you can, understood?”

Cassie nodded, already feeling the effects of the potion begin to take hold. A warm haze enveloped her senses, making it easier to relax into the bed. “Understood,” she murmured, allowing her eyelids to flutter shut as the exhaustion finally washed over her, lulled into a peaceful state by the combination of the salve and potion.

Lunchtime had been and gone by the time Cassie finally awoke. The soft light filtering through the high windows of the hospital wing hinted at the late afternoon, casting long shadows across the room. She blinked groggily, feeling as though she’d been asleep for hours, her body much lighter and freer of the pain that had plagued her all week. The quiet murmur of Madame Pomfrey speaking to another student near the entrance was the only sound in the otherwise still room. Cassie stretched carefully, testing her back, and was relieved to feel only a faint twinge rather than the sharp ache she had grown used to.

Sitting up slowly, she glanced around, noticing the neatly folded school robes resting on the chair beside her bed. Her school satchel was lying haphazardly underneath the chair still overflowing with parchment and books. 

As she adjusted her position, the curtain around her bed fluttered slightly, and Madame Pomfrey appeared at her side, smiling kindly. "Feeling better, are we?" she asked, already knowing the answer from Cassie’s improved posture.

"Much," Cassie replied, stretching her arms with a yawn. "What time is it?"

"Past lunchtime, I'm afraid," Madame Pomfrey said, a hint of amusement in her voice, “I’ve got a couple of biscuits in my desk drawer you can have before you leave, sugar is a different kind of cure,” she laughed. 

With a swish of the curtain and the soft click of heels, Madame Pomfrey left the young girl to get dressed. Heading to her desk to grab the packet of sweet biscuits and a couple of the potions and salves for Cassie to take away with her. Hopefully that would ease some of the poor girl's pain. 

Once she was alone Cassie quickly hopped out of bed, surprised at how nimbly she could move. Grabbing her uniform she began to get herself dressed, the only real discomfort came when she had to stretch her arm into her blazer sleeve—her muscles protested with a dull ache, making her wince slightly as the fabric slipped over her shoulder. Once dressed, Cassie straightened her robes and gave herself a moment to breathe before heading out to meet Madame Pomfrey.

Walking towards the desk at the front of the room- whilst fumbling with her blazer button- Cassie was stopped in her tracks by a boisterous laugh echoing around the now vacant room; there directly beside Madame Pomfrey was the tall, unmistakable figure of Fred Weasley. As he turned to face her the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes was softened by a look of concern.

“What are you doing here?” questioned Cassie, only aware of how rude she sounded when the words left her mouth, “Sorry what I meant is are you okay?” 

Fred snorted a laugh at her attempted cover up and shook his head, “Always the charmer, Vaughn. Madame Pomfrey and I have been trying to find a cure for the horrible illness I’ve had since birth, gingerness. We aren’t quite there yet though,” Fred joked, flashing Madame Pomfrey a charming smile as she rolled her eyes. 

“Mr Weasley, as I have told you and your brother time and time again when you come into the Hospital Wing with the strange and suspicious burns, just run them under cold water! Too much burn salve makes your skin paper thin, it’s not good for you,” Madame Pomfrey countered. 

Cassie couldn’t help but laugh at the older woman’s anguish, fully aware that Fred and George thrived on stirring up just this sort of reaction. It was never malicious, just another way of joking and pranking people. Madame Pomfrey’s exasperated sigh as she handed over the packet of biscuits and potions only added to Cassie’s amusement, and she had to bite her lip to keep from chuckling outright. 

"Take the potions in the morning when you wake up and in the evening before bed," Madame Pomfrey instructed firmly, placing the small vials into Cassie’s hand. "The salve should be massaged in when needed."

Cassie nodded as the older woman continued, her tone softening. "I’ve sent an owl to each of your professors excusing you from lessons for the rest of the afternoon, and I’ve also requested that you take it easy tomorrow." Madame Pomfrey’s eyes, though kind, held a stern edge as she added, "And next time, Miss Vaughn, don’t leave it so long to seek help. You seem to enjoy punishing yourself unnecessarily. I can help, if you’ll let me."

Cassie felt a wave of guilt as the older woman’s words sank in, but the warmth in Madame Pomfrey’s voice softened the rebuke. There was no mistaking the genuine concern behind her stern demeanour. Awkwardly glancing toward the boy beside her, Cassie could see Fred trying—and failing—to pretend he wasn’t listening to their conversation. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, but the way his eyes darted toward her every few seconds betrayed his curiosity. 

Sighing she shoved the potions and salve into her school bag and took one of the biscuits out of the packet nibbling the corner. 

“Thank you Madame Pomfrey,” she mumbled, sending the woman an appreciative smile, before turning to head out of the door.

"Make yourself useful, Mr. Weasley, and carry Miss Vaughn’s bag back to her common room, please," Madame Pomfrey instructed, her tone leaving no room for debate. She gave Fred a sharp look, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to argue. "No detours or tricks. Then you must head straight to your afternoon class."

Fred straightened up immediately, giving a mock salute with a playful grin. "Yes, ma’am," he replied, grabbing Cassie’s bag without hesitation. His expression was innocent enough, but the mischievous glint in his eyes told a different story, as though the idea of a ‘detour’ was still tempting him.

Madame Pomfrey's eyes narrowed in warning. "I mean it, Fred."

He shrugged, still smiling, but Cassie could tell by the slight roll of his eyes that he wasn’t thrilled about the strict instructions.

Out in the corridor Cassie brought the boy to a halt with a firm hand on his arm, “Give me my bag Fred, I can get myself back to the common room,” she said, holding her hand out. 

Taking her outstretched hand in his and throwing her a cheeky smile he shook his head, “I can’t do that Cassandra, I’m more scared of Madame Pomfrey than I am of you,” he shrugged. 

Gently he led her through the corridors in silence. It appeared that she was too lost in her thoughts to converse and Fred didn’t want to push her, still remembering the last conversation they had had outside of the hospital wing. That didn't, however, stop him from observing her. Although her posture was noticeably better than that morning, she looked utterly drained. The dark circles beneath her eyes were stark against her pale skin. Her usually lively hair hung limply around her face, and her expression was distant, as if the weight of exhaustion was pressing down on her. Fred’s chest tightened slightly at the sight, but he kept quiet. 

In the common room, Fred gently guided Cassie over to her favourite spot—the worn leather sofa closest to the crackling fire. The warmth of the flames immediately began to soothe the chill in the air, and Fred wasted no time setting to work. He darted around the room, grabbing multiple pillows and blankets from nearby chairs. Arranging them into a cosy, nest-like structure on the sofa, carefully tucking the cushions and blankets under each other  to offer support for her aching muscles.

Turning back to her with a triumphant grin, he spread his arms wide, “For you,”  he teased, giving an exaggerated bow and gesturing for her to settle in. The humour in his voice couldn’t hide the concern in his eyes, though, as he watched her closely, waiting to see if she’d find comfort in his efforts.

With a soft smile and a slight roll of her eyes at his dramatics Cassie shook her head, “Just let me run upstairs and get changed into something more comfortable.” 

“Okay,” he nodded with a smile.

“Would you mind leaving my bag on the table?” she asked, looking over her shoulder as she headed towards the stairs up to the dorms, “Hopefully I can get some work done this afternoon.” 

“Or you could rest?” she heard Fred mutter under his breath followed by the unmistakable thud of her school bag on the table. 

Ignoring him Cassie began taking the stairs slowly, one step at a time, finally hobbling into her room. She rummaged through her trunk, letting out a sigh of relief when she found her favourite soft grey sweatpants and a comfy cami-top. She quickly changed, tossing her school uniform carelessly onto her bed. Grabbing her hairbrush, she ran it through her tangled locks, wincing slightly as it tugged, before pulling her hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of her face.

For a few minutes, she searched for her favourite hoodie—one of Kingsley’s old, oversized ones that fell down to her knees and reminded her of home. After rummaging through drawers and half heartedly checking under her bed, she gave up, too tired to continue searching. She settled instead for grabbing her new book from under her pillow, knowing she’d have some quiet time to read it in private. Slipping her feet into her slippers and throwing one last searching gaze behind her, she headed back down to the common room. 

“Cass, it’s November. Where is your jumper?” Fred questioned as soon as she stepped foot into the common room. 

“I can’t find my favourite one,” Cassie grumbled, her voice tinged with frustration, “It’s one of Kingsley’s old ones so it's snuggly and really oversized. It hurts too much to bend down and search, so I’m just going to pray the fire will be warm enough,” she shrugged, flopping down onto the sofa and curling into the pillow nest Fred had carefully arranged for her. The softness enveloped her aching body, and she let out a small sigh of relief. 

Rolling his eyes at Cassie, Fred turned and rushed up the stairs to his dorm, reappearing moments later with one of his Quidditch jumpers tossed casually over his shoulder. The vibrant Gryffindor colours of scarlet and gold made the Hogwarts emblem stand out boldly against the soft knitted fabric. Carefully grabbing ahold of Cassie’s hands he gently pulled her to her feet, tugging the oversized jumper over her head. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, Fred couldn’t help the chuckle that broke free. The jumper completely swamped her, the sleeves hanging past her fingertips and the hem falling below her knees. He couldn’t help but think she looked adorable. 

"You look like you’re swimming in it!" he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

“It’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall,” she huffed, wispy bits of hair fanning out around her head as she did.

“But it’ll keep you warm,” he shot back, “I’ll be back in an hour and a half and I expect to find you here in your nest relaxing,” he said, eyebrows raised as if daring her to argue. 

Cassie just glared at him retreating to the sofa. However, she couldn't stay angry at him; in fact, she couldn't even pretend to be annoyed. Not after he had spent so much time taking care of her. Before he could leave, she spun around, calling out, "Fred?" Her heart raced as she rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head against his chest. The warmth of his body was comforting, and she breathed in the familiar scent of him—a mix of smoke, gunpowder, cinnamon with a hint of lavender- it was uniquely Fred.

"Thank you," she mumbled into his jumper, her voice slightly muffled. Squeezing him tighter and tighter she tried to emphasise her gratitude. Slowly and carefully, his arms came up to wrap around her. One arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer against him, while the other hand gently ran through her hair, comfortingly combing through the loose strands. The rhythmic motion was soothing and reassuring.

Slowly pulling away from her, his hand glided down from her hair to grasp her hand, intertwining their fingers with a comforting warmth. With a gentle tug, he encouraged her back towards the sofa, a soft smile on his lips as he motioned for her to lie down. Grabbing another knitted blanket, he spread it over her curled up body, carefully tucking it under her legs to make sure she was snug. 

“Get some rest, Cass. I’ll be back soon,” he said softly, his hand ghosted over the crown of her head before delicately tucking a rogue piece of hair behind her ear. 

Cassie watched him leave through the portrait hole, the soft creak of the old hinges echoed through the empty common room. Turning back towards the fire, she got lost in thought, watching the twisting patterns of orange, blue, and yellow as they flickered and danced in the hearth. 

Shaking her head to rid of the perplexing thoughts, Cassie's eye caught the corner of the small black book she had brought in the ancient bookshop in Hogsmeade. Grabbing it from its hiding place under the countless blankets and pillows she perched it upon her knees and turned to the first page. 

Cassie was enthralled as she flipped through the pages, each one filled with tales of unspeakable horror and cruelty. The book detailed the rise of Voldemort, charting his ascent to power with a chilling precision. Every chapter seemed to be worse than the last, recounting the countless attacks perpetrated by his followers, the Death Eaters, on both wizards and Muggles alike.

Her hands shook as she read about the senseless violence and destruction—the lives torn apart by dark magic, families shattered, and entire communities devastated by fear. Each act of terror felt closer to home as she thought of the people she knew, her friends and family, and what they might have gone through during those dark times. Cassie’s mind wandered to those who had fought against the darkness, risking everything to stand up to Voldemort’s tyranny.  She couldn’t stop thinking about Kingsley and the shell of a man he had become when she forced him to recount his war tale; And the smiling image of her Dad before he was taken from her by the war.

Every page Cassie turned, her eyes darted across the text, scanning frantically for the name Kiera Lighthand. Her pulse quickened each time a new name appeared, but none were the one she sought. The frustration grew with every paragraph, the details of each dark event swirling in her mind like a storm, whilst the pounding in her temples intensified.

By the time she reached page forty-three of the seven-hundred-page book, she couldn’t take it anymore. Slamming the book shut harshly- the echo of the heavy cover slamming shut rang out through the quiet common room- she threw it onto the table with the rest of her belongings. Throwing her head back she pressed her palms hard into her eye sockets, trying to push back the pounding headache that had begun to surface, her mind still reeling from the gruesome yet very real stories she had just read. Snuggling back into the cushions Cassie couldn’t help but think the flickering light from the fire and the shadows it threw around the room added to the sinister ambience. Searching for Kiera felt like hunting for a ghost—somewhere, lost in history, tangled in the threads of the past. Yet every name she passed only deepened the gnawing sense of unease that something darker was at play. How many of those names had been present at the Quidditch World Cup she thought. 

Shuddering, Cassie took a shaky breath, trying to steady the unease that lingered. Determined not to let her mind spiral further, she reached for her school bag, tugging it open with a frustrated yank. Her fingers dug through its contents until they found her Transfiguration textbook and notebook.

“I’m not falling behind,” she muttered to herself, resolutely flipping through the pages to where she’d left off in class. Her quill hovered above the parchment, and as she forced herself to focus on the lesson material, quickly becoming absorbed by the theory in front of her.

A sudden hand on her shoulder snapped Cassie out of her academic trance. Instinct took over as she grabbed the wrist of the stranger, twisting it sharply. A pained groan escaped, and she whipped around, ready to defend herself—only to find Fabian standing there, grimacing.

"Whoa, Cass, it's just me!" Fabian said, his body hunched over the back of the sofa, his other hand raised in surrender, eyes wide with surprise.

Cassie quickly released his hand, her heart still racing. “Fabian! I—I’m sorry!” she stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment. “You scared the life out of me.”

Fabian chuckled, rubbing his wrist with a wry grin, “No kidding. Remind me never to sneak up on you again.”

“It was a reflex!” she tried to explain, leaping up to check if he was okay. As her feet touched the floor she managed to get tangled in her blanket and with a yelp she crashed to the floor. 

From behind her a loud eruption of laughter alerted her to the presence of the rest of her friends. A hot flush crept up her neck and began to paint her cheeks a bright red, a clear sign of her embarrassment. 

“I’m not sure you can call dislocating someone's shoulder a reflex, but it's good to know you can take yourself and someone else down in one move,” George joked. 

Groaning from the floor and covering her face with both hands she allowed her friends to continue to laugh. A gentle hand on her shoulder brought Cassie out of her pit of embarrassment, peeling her hands away from her face she found Fred, kneeling beside her head, his brow furrowed in worry.

“You okay Cass?” he asked, eyes assessing her for any twinge of pain.

“I'm fine,” she muttered, lying flat on the floor for a moment longer than necessary. “I think I hurt my pride more than anything.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure? You didn’t hurt your back more, did you?" 

Cassie gave him a reassuring smile as she slowly sat up. “No extra damage. Just a little tumble. I think I’ll survive.”

Cassie pulled herself off the floor, still feeling the sting of embarrassment on her flushed cheeks. Quickly, she gathered her scattered books, notes, and quill, dumping them onto the coffee table in front of them with a little more force than necessary. With a deep breath, she settled back onto the sofa, curling up with her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped protectively around herself. 

Deciding to join her, her friends made themselves comfortable on the surrounding sofas and armchairs. Tossing their bags and blazers onto the coffee table with Cassie’s things. Fred, his usual chaotic excitement and playfulness exuding from every pore, decided to plop down beside her, causing the worn leather cushions to sink and bounce under his weight, sending her springing into the air. Shooting her a cheeky satisfied grin he wiggled around making himself comfortable.

“Did you have to do that?” she asked, though her tone was light, a hint of amusement breaking through her mock annoyance.

Fred leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the sofa. "You make it too easy, Cass. Can’t help it."

Noting that there was no more room around them, Fabian decided to sit directly on the floor in front of her, leaning his back against the sofa behind him. Without thinking, Cassie leaned forward and began absentmindedly playing with his curls, winding them around her fingers and gently brushing her hand through his hair. With a small shiver and a contented sigh of relief Cassie felt his whole body gradually relax.

"You sure your hand's okay?" she whispered after a moment, her voice tinged with guilt. 

Fabian tilted his head back to glance up at her, “I’ve still got all my fingers and full function, don’t worry. I think I’ll make a full recovery,” he replied, his tone light and teasing.

Cassie chuckled, her fingers still working through his curls. "Hopefully you’ve learnt your lesson now, you shouldn’t sneak up on me,” she laughed with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?" Fabian shot back with mock indignation. "You know what, I actually think a bruise is beginning to form. See right there," he said, waving his hand in fronton her face, "I’ll remember your karate moves when I’m trying to write my potions essay later, but my fingers are still throbbing too much to hold a quill.” 

“You're left handed!” she snorted, “Your right hand shouldn’t cause you too much trouble,” she said, tapping him condescendingly on the cheek. Fabian rolled his eyes at her, childishly sticking out his tongue.

A slight nudge to her ribs caught her attention as she spun around to face Fred, “Maybe you should start issuing warnings before you start karate-chopping us,” he joked, causing a deep rumbling laugh to break free from Fabian. 

Cassie shot Fred a playful glare but couldn’t suppress a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A voice from across the coffee table caught Cassie's attention, making her turn, “How are you feeling Cass? You certainly look better than you did this morning, or any other day this week for that matter,” Bonnie asked, her kind sympathetic eyes boring into Cassie. 

“I’m pretty sure there is nothing that Madame Pomfrey cannot heal. I think the impromptu bouldering experience over the weekend might have been a step too far,” she tried to joke. 

“That’s all my fault,” Odd groaned, “I’ve never been very good with heights. If it wasn’t for Fred and Cassie, I’d still be clinging to the wall like some demented spider,” she said, voice muffled as she had buried her head in her hands.

Cassie couldn’t help but laugh at her analogy, shaking her head slightly at the girl. 

“We've all got things we're good at, Odette,” Fred reassured her, offering a comforting smile. His tone was warm and genuine. “We didn’t mind helping you out. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Odette looked down into her lap, chewing her lip embarrassedly, “But I hurt you Cass,” she said, looking up at the girl with watery eyes, “It’s like my limbs wouldn’t respond to my brain screaming at them to move. I completely shut down. Merlin, I’m such a coward.” 

“Enough Odd, I’m fine. There is nothing for you to feel sorry or guilty about! I’m just happy we got you out in one piece!” Cassie said sternly, keeping eye contact with the girl to emphasise her point. 

Fabian chimed in, his usual easygoing tone lifting the mood. “Yeah, and besides, you did great. It’s not like the rest of us had to climb that without being scared at some point.”

Odette’s shoulders relaxed a little, though she still looked unsure. Fred gave her another reassuring smile. “Trust me,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “you did more than fine. We all need help sometimes. No shame in that.”

Hugo stood up and made his way over to Odette, perching himself on the arm of her chair. He gently wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I told you, nobody is mad at you. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said softly, his voice filled with reassurance.

Odette leaned into his side slightly, her tense shoulders finally easing as she took a deep breath. 

Fabian leaned back against Cassie’s knees, looking over at Odette. “You’ve got the whole squad at your back, Odd,” he said with a grin. “And besides, Fred’s right—everyone’s got something they need help with now and then. You’re no exception.”

Fred gave a dramatic nod of agreement from the sofa, making Cassie chuckle as she rested her chin on her knee.

“As touching as this moment was, and as happy as I am to be considered part of the ‘squad’,” George said, using his fingers to make exaggerated air quotes, “I am actually on the brink of starvation. Please can we all go to dinner?” he whined. 

The group burst into laughter, shaking their heads at the boys' dramatics. 

“Just let us get changed, we’ll meet you down here in five,” Bonnie replied, jumping up from her seat. 

The rest of the girls followed her lead, rummaging through the chaotic mountain of bags and blazers on the coffee table to retrieve their belongings. Hastily they disappeared up the spiral staircase and into their dorm room, chatting and giggling as they went. Cassie looked down at the oversized jumper and old sweatpants she was wearing, huffing slightly. She knew she looked a state but wasn’t sure she had the energy to go upstairs and change.

Groaning, she stood, “I should probably change too, wait for me?” she asked, glancing around the group of boys.

“Cass you got changed a couple of hours ago,” Fred said, raising an eyebrow, “Just wear that.”

“I look a wreck!” she laughed, flapping her arms in the long sleeves to emphasise the point, “The whole school will think I’ve just rolled out of bed!” 

“Who cares!” Hugo sighed, exasperated, “ You can have one day where you look less than perfect.” 

“Madame Maxime will lose her mind if she sees me like this, I’ll bring dishonour on the whole school,” she laughed, trying to reason with the bewildered looking boys who clearly didn’t understand the girls worries or care.

Fred shook his head, “You’ve been ill! You had to get the matron to excuse you from afternoon lessons because you could barely walk. I think you’re allowed to wear comfy clothes whilst you’re recovering,” he argued, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her flapping, the oversized sleeve of her jumper getting alarmingly close to his face. 

“But-” Cassie began, tugging at the sleeve in Fred’s hand, hoping he would release her so she could escape and get changed.

“CASSIE!” the boys bellowed in unison, all rolling their eyes and groaning. 

“Literally no one cares!” Hugo whined. 

“I do,” Cassie mumbled under her breath, childishly pouting whilst crossing her arms and looking down at her feet. 

“Right, Fred, follow me. I’ve got an idea,” George said, a sly grin spreading across his face as he grabbed his twin by the arm and hauled him to his feet.

Fred groaned but didn’t resist, allowing himself to be pulled along. “This better be good,” he muttered.

As they reached the bottom of the boys’ dormitory staircase, they bumped into Lee, who was leaning casually against the wall talking to a group of 6th year girls.

“Perfect timing, Lee,” George said, eyes gleaming with mischief. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Lee by the arm as well, dragging them both with a renewed sense of urgency. “You’re in on this too.”

“What are we doing?” Lee asked, half-laughing as he stumbled to keep up.

“You’ll see,” George replied, his pace quickening as they bounded up the stairs. “Just trust me.”

Cassie stood there completely bemused by their sudden disappearance, still staring at the place they had vanished. Shrugging her shoulders she turned back to the sofa, throwing herself back down onto the pile of pillows, anticipating a long wait. Tugging absentmindedly at her long ponytail, Cassie felt the boredom settle in, leading her to idly inspect and pull apart her split ends. Nearby, Fabian and Hugo were deep in debate about whether a defensive strategy in wizard chess was the best approach. Knowing she had nothing meaningful to contribute to their argument, she allowed her mind to drift.

The sudden sound of thundering footsteps snapped her out of her daydream. 

"Ta-da!" George exclaimed, throwing his arms out theatrically as he spun in place to show off his outfit, a cheeky grin on his face.

The three boys—George, Fred, and Lee—stood in the common room, grinning widely as they proudly displayed their outfits: plaid pyjama bottoms and oversized hoodies. Cassie shook her head in disbelief at the sight, but couldn’t stop the amused, bashful grin that slowly spread across her face.

“There you go drama queen, now we all match,” Fred said proudly, throwing two jumpers towards Hugo and Fabian he continued, “We know all of your stuff is in the carriage, we thought you might want to be comfy and join us.” 

Throwing Fred and George an appreciative grin, Hugo and Fabian pulled the hoodies over their heads and carelessly shoved their uniform into their school bags. 

Looking around the group in front of him George began to grumble, “Girls! How long does it take! I told them I was literally starving, it’ll be their fault if I accidentally eat Lee.” Growing visibly more agitated he stormed over to the bottom of the girls staircase, shouting shrilly up the stairs, “We are leaving for dinner now. I physically can not wait any longer.” 

Turning to the tall ginger beside her Cassie whispered, “That was scarily like your mother,” Fred turned to her wide eyed, nodding his head.

The slam of a door echoed down the stairwell, indicating that the girls had heard George’s dulcet tones. Moments later, they came stumbling down the stairs, one after the other, with Libby tugging one of Cassie’s jumpers roughly over her head. It was immediately clear that they’d had the same idea as the boys. Each of them had thrown their hair into messy buns and sported an assortment of pyjama trousers and jogging bottoms. 

“I’ve always wanted to have dinner in my pyjamas!” Lee squealed excitedly.

Laughing, Cassie shoved George forward, “Let’s get going before Georgie goes full cannibal!” 

The rowdy group made their way through the corridor, their laughter and playful jostling echoing off the walls, drawing curious glances as they passed. Cassie hung back a little, hobbling at a slower pace but smiling as she watched her friends carry on with their lively banter. This was exactly how she'd always imagined her school days—filled with laughter, warmth, and the kind of joy that comes from being surrounded by a group of supportive friends.

“Why are you hanging back here smiling like a proud parent?” Bonnie teased, delicately linking her arm with Cassie’s. 

“This is exactly what I wanted, all of my best friends to get along and enjoy spending time together,” Cassie sighed contently. 

Bonnie just giggled at the girl, rolling her eyes playfully. She couldn’t however stop herself from looking fondly towards the group, a serene smile on her face. 

The large group squeezed into a spot beside Ginny and her friends at the Gryffindor table, eagerly awaiting the moment when food would magically appear on the golden platters in front of them. Cassie, smiling warmly, threw an arm around the younger witch, pulling her into a side hug. She was all too aware that they didn’t get to spend as much time together as they would like. Their schedules kept them at opposite ends of the castle most days, and it had become clear that mealtimes and evenings in the common room were their only chances for quality time together.

“How’s it going, Gin?” Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the younger girl’s slumped posture.

“I’ve decided I’m going to become one of those beggars at the entrance of Knockturn Alley,” Ginny replied with a defeated sigh. “You know, the ones with no teeth who chase rats with sticks.” With that, she dramatically dropped her head onto the table in front of her with a painful crash.

Cassie couldn’t help but snort with laughter, reaching out to rub Ginny’s back in a comforting gesture. “I’m sure you can aim a bit higher than that,” she teased, grinning.

“Well, I’m pretty sure those beggars don’t need OWL or NEWT qualifications,” Ginny mumbled, her voice muffled by the table. “At the rate I’m going, you’ll be tossing sickles at me on your way to Gringotts.”

Cassie exchanged an amused, questioning look with Ginny’s friends, both of whom were barely containing their laughter behind their hands. One of them, who Cassie thought was named Ophelia, finally spoke through her giggles. “She failed her Transfiguration mini-exam,” the girl explained, still laughing at her friend’s over-the-top dramatics.

“Ah,” Cassie nodded, the girl's behaviour finally making sense. 

“My beetle was supposed to turn into a bell jar, instead it became a magnifying glass and set fire to Rosie Hipchurch’s robes,” Ginny groaned, causing her friends to roar with hysterical laughter. 

Trying to keep a straight face Cassie attempted to comfort the girl, “It sounds like an accident Gin, I’m sure Rosie would understand. If you’re really struggling with Transfiguration you could join me in the library and I could tutor you?” she offered. 

Ginny peered up at the older girl, her forehead red where she had slammed it into the table. Nodding she straightened up, combing her fingers through her hair and adjusting her robes. 

“Next topic of conversation, why are you wearing Fred’s quidditch jumper?” Ginny asked, wriggling her eyebrows at the girl, “And why are you all in pyjamas?”

“I’ve been wanting to ask that since we found you in the common room,” Libby excitedly whispered from across the table, resting her chin on her hand and looking at Cassie expectantly, obviously becoming completely engrossed in the conversation.

Cassie could feel a blush beginning to paint her cheeks, however decided to nonchalantly play it off, “I couldn’t find my favourite oversized jumper so Fred let me borrow one of his,” she replied shrugging. 

“Mhmm,” Ginny responded teasingly, “Fred never lets girl’s wear his quidditch uniform. The only time a girl ever  wears a player's jumper is when they’re dating.” 

“Oh shut it Ginerva. You are reading far too much into a situation,” Cassie argued. 

“Oh my God!” Libby squealed, “He is giving a clear indication that he likes you!” 

Nervously glancing down the table toward Fred, who was busy messing around with Fabian, Cassie shook her head and sighed. "I’ve told you, it’s not like that between us," she muttered, her voice tinged with frustration. "Just leave it."

Before the girls could argue, the platters in front of them magically filled with freshly baked bread rolls. Up and down the table dishes of potatoes and vegetables with platters of meat appeared. The enticing aroma of bubbling stew wafted through the air, rich with the scent of gravy and herbs. Cassie wasted no time, grabbing one of the soft rolls and a heaping ladle of stew. She tore the crusty roll apart with a satisfying crunch, using it to mop up the thick, savoury gravy before taking a bite, savouring the warmth. She stayed almost silent throughout the meal listening into conversations and occasionally nodding her head in agreement. Her mind was too preoccupied by silly fantasies about Fred Weasley.