Remember Me

“Oh, Professor, I couldn’t!”

The sixth-years were revising Vanishing Spells in Transfiguration. Harry waved his wand at the tortoiseshell kitten in front of him, feeling relief as it vanished into thin air. Beside him, Cassandra was hugging her own tabby and white kitten close to her chest protectively as
Professor McGonagall stood over them both like a hawk watching its prey.

“You did it in your OWL, Miss James. It is a simple spell for someone at your level,” she said, her mouth pressing together into a thin line as she watched Cassandra tickled the kitten behind its ears.

“Oh, I know that, I can do it, but I can’t vanish this little thing! Look, isn’t it adorable? Aren’t you adorable, yes you are you darling…” her voice became like one you would use when talking to babies as the kitten purred happily in your arms.

“It won’t harm the cat,” sighed McGonagall.

Cassandra frowned. “But once you vanish it, you can’t get it back, can you? So it’s basically just like killing the poor little thing. I won’t do it, baby, don’t you worry, I won’t let the nasty old woman hurt you…”

It came as no surprise to anyone but Cassandra that she was given detention that night.

*

Harry was in the common room, catching up on his Defence homework. Professor Grimstone had given them all long and very difficult essays to write on Inferi, and Harry had left it until the last moment possible. Ron was practising Quidditch with Ginny, and Hermione was secreted in the corner, knitting white woollen garments that were supposedly hats in the firm belief that house elves loved to wear them.

Harry dipped his eagle feather quill in the ink and held it above the parchment, considering his next sentence, when the portrait hole burst open as Cassandra stomped in like an angry tornado. She saw him near the fire and came over, glowering at everyone in sight. Throwing her bag onto the table, which juddered under the weight and made Harry blot his essay with several large splodges of ink, she sank down into the sofa, with her arms and legs folded together so tightly they seemed to be knotted.

Harry guessed she had just come back from her detention – he hadn’t seen her since lunch. He bent down over his ruined essay, trying to remove the wet ink marks. Beside him, he could almost hear Cassandra fuming.

“D’you know what that Transfiguration teacher said?” Cassandra demanded, her brow furrowed so much it fell down over her eyes.

Harry shrugged absent-mindedly.

“She said that I should get over this thing about not wanting to hurt animals. So I said that I didn’t mind transfiguring them, just not so I can’t get them back, and she said basically that that was rubbish!”

“Take it you’re not in a good mood then?” grinned Harry at the sight of the angry girl.

“What do you think? I’ve just had an hour with that Scottish witch and before…” she crossed her legs and turned to face him. “You know I’m taking Astronomy? Well, apparently that is somehow linked to Divination, which means I have to have lessons with the daft old bat that teaches it. I mean, I wouldn’t mind it if she didn’t keep wincing whenever she looked at me, because apparently I am going to die a painful death very soon.” Harry had to bite back a smile. “So I said to her, well, if I’m not going to live that long, I might as well enjoy it, so d’you mind stopping grimacing whenever you look at me, because that doesn’t exactly put me in the best of moods, and now I have Divination every fortnight with her saying that I am going to die practically tomorrow, so enjoy your last day, Cassandra!”

Harry laughed; Cassandra looked as if she was going to hit him for a moment before she relaxed, and a small grin spread across her face too.

“It’s not funny.”

“She used to do that to me too. She kept saying that I was going to die every lesson.”
“She did that to you too?” Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “Wonder why.”

Her hand crept into the large pocket of her robes and came out again cradling a small, purring kitten. Harry recognised it from the one Cassandra had used in Transfiguration.

“Cass, you didn’t steal it?!”

“What do you think?” She beamed as the kitten crawled over her hands, purring loudly. “Gorgeous little thing, I couldn’t leave her there.” Cassandra tickled the kitten behind its ears for a few moments, biting her lip, which Harry took as a sign that she was deep in thought.

“You know what you were saying about Professor Trelawney…”

“Yeah?”

“D’you think she picks on us because we’re orphans?”

Harry shrugged, but inside his mind was racing. He didn’t care about Professor Trelawney – in his opinion she made most of her predictions up, the fact that she made his prophecy hadn’t changed that – but he had completely forgotten that Cassandra was an orphan like him. And she didn’t seem to really care, not in the way he did…but then she liked the people he was living with…

Did Cassandra ever imagine how different her life would be if she had her parents? If they hadn’t died? But it was different for her, she wasn’t famous because they had died, she wasn’t reminded of it whenever someone from the wizarding world recognised him, she hadn’t heard Voldemort killing her parents when Dementors came close…

He became conscious that something warm and fluffy was in his lap; he looked down and saw Cassandra’s stolen tabby.

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

Harry looked up and his jade eyes met her silver ones. “You know you’re practically the first person to say that,” he half-smiled, still stroking the cat in his lap.

They were silent for a while. Cassandra was watching Colin and Dennis Creevey play Exploding Snap. When the entire pack had exploded and Colin’s eyebrows were missing, Harry spoke again.

“What happened to your parents?”

Cassandra leant back in her seat before answering. “Same as yours, really. Only it was after Voldemort was defeated. One of his supporters did it.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I can’t remember them.”

As Harry watched her, his scar suddenly burned with pain and he pressed his hands against it. It burned under his fingers.

“Is it your scar?” asked Cassandra, leaning close to him. Harry had told her about his scar’s connecting with Voldemort a couple of weeks before. “Is it him? What did you see?”
“Nothing.” The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. “He’s…he’s really angry about something.”

Cassandra’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, I can’t see.”

“Well, it’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

He traced the lightening-bolt shape under his finger. “C’mon, let’s get this homework done. Or Professor Grimstone will probably jinx us or something.” He pulled the parchment towards him, tipping the kitten off his lap. It yowled in annoyance and scratched his, leaving Harry sucking his bleeding finger, and Cassandra cooing over the kitten proudly.

“That kitten has a lot in common with Crookshanks,” he said, and as Cassandra looked delighted, “Cass, that’s not a compliment!”