Remember Me

As soon as they were out of Dumbledore’s office, they all spoke at once.

“Blimey…what the hell was that about?”

“You’re related to Godric Gryffindor? Oh, Cass, I never knew! I’d never have guessed! Are you scared?”

“Cass, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told Voldemort, I didn’t mean to.”

“Why was he making such a big thing out of it?”

Everyone stared at Cassandra. “Well, he is!” she said defensively. “All it means is that I have a famous great-great-great granddad or something, that’s all!”

Hermione sighed and shook her head. “Weren’t you listening to Dumbledore? He was saying that it means you have to heal the rift between Slytherin and Gryffindor.”

Ron snorted.

“I agree with him!” Hermione shot a filthy look towards Ron. “All this hatred between the houses…I mean, it’s why there’s such a prejudice against Slytherins!”

“Yeah, that’s cause they’re all Dark wizards in the making, Hermione.”

“That’s the sort of stereotyping I’m talking about!”

Harry interjected quickly before Ron could formulate an angry retort. “So what does that mean? You have to be friends with Voldemort?”

Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “Oh yeah, bet we’ll get on like a house on fire. We’ll be secreted in Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop before you know it.”

Harry and Ron laughed, and even Hermione gave a grudging smile.

“Seriously, guys, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.” They had reached the Fat Lady now. “It’s not going to mean anything important.”

*

The sixth-years were being pushed harder than ever in lessons. They were now expected to be able to do non-verbal spells in every lesson, something Harry and Ron struggled with, and they were doing more complicated magic than ever before. Professor McGonagall’s long lectures on human transfiguration were almost incomprehensible to most of the class, so Hermione found herself swamped in crowds of desperate people asking to borrow her notes. Charms was almost as hard, Professor Flitwick raising his squeaky voice hopefully as people tried to shoot jets of water out of their wand. The best Cassandra had done was a little trickle, like raindrops, while next to her Hermione conjured up a neat, perfect waterfall of clean, fresh water. Professor Snape was as sneering and dismissive as ever in Potions, making all the Slytherins snigger as he showed them the tar-like substance that was stuck to Ron’s cauldron.

But the hardest lesson by far was Defence Against The Dark Arts.

Professor Grimstone seemed not to notice that practically everyone dreaded his lessons, seemed not to notice people hobbling out, clutching their injuries, seemed not to notice that many people were being sent to the Hospital Wing after his lessons, still suffering from a jinx they had been hit with, and, most of all, seemed not to notice that Madam Pomfrey was getting increasingly annoyed by the floods of injured students that came to her after a long session of wizard duels or Muggle fights. On the contrary, he seemed very pleased with himself, and said they were all making great improvement, nodding happily as Susan Bones erupted in boils due to a well placed curse from Theodore Nott.

During these lessons, Harry had a view of Draco Malfoy, and the uneasy feeling that Malfoy was looking wildly happy about something intensified. In fact, all the Slytherins, wherever he went seemed more confident than ever, jeering and laughing at him as he went by.

“What is with them?” groaned Cassandra as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sneered at
them. “Please, Hermione, just let me hex them…”

“No magic in the corridors!”

Cassandra groaned. “Just abuse your Prefect power for once, Hermione.”

They had reached the Great Hall now, where Ron pulled every plate of food possible towards him and started piling his plate with sausages. Cassandra, who seemed to have the same appetite as Ron, was aiming a bottle of ketchup at her baked-bean and bacon sandwich, swamping her food in piles of blood-red goo.

“How sweet,” she muttered to Harry. “Malfoy seems to have found a few new friends.”

Harry looked over to the Slytherin table where, sure enough, Malfoy was sitting, talking to some Hufflepuff students that Harry recognised as Owen Cauldwell and Eleanor Branstone, two third years.

“Why’s he talking to them?” Harry whispered, frowning. “It’s not what Malfoy would do.”

“True.” Cassandra took a bite of her breakfast. “C’mon, let’s be nosy.”

Harry grinned, and together they strolled up to where Malfoy was, coming to a halt so they were just in earshot. However, the chatting and laughter from the Slytherin’s was so loud, they could hardly hear anything.

“Look at them,” whispered Cassandra in his ear. “At the Hufflepuffs. Don’t they look kind of…” she made her eyes go wide and blank and opened her mouth slightly. “Kind of zombieish.”

Harry laughed. “They’re not zombies.”

“No, I know, but…you know what I mean?”

Harry peered around to look at Eleanor and Owen. True, they did look a little blank, but who wouldn’t when Malfoy was talking to them. What he really wanted was to hear what Malfoy was saying.

“Let’s wait,” he told Cassandra. “See if we can follow him when the hall clears.”

She nodded, and gradually the students left to go to lessons or, if they were older, back to their common rooms to catch up on homework. Malfoy left the hall too, his white-blonde hair making it easy for Harry and Cassandra to follow him. Malfoy swaggered out of the hall and up a corridor that Harry knew led to the Ravenclaw common room even though he had never been there before. He was surprised when Malfoy waited outside the door, as if waiting for someone. Harry quickly threw his Invisibility Cloak over him and Cassandra, and they crept closer, bending over so their ankles could not be seen.

A girl with red curly hair and a thick layer of foundation came up, clutching her bag. It was Marietta Edgecoombe. Cassandra watched, her brow furrowed, as Malfoy retreated into the shadows when he saw her coming. Marietta was unaware of the Slytherin watching her. Malfoy’s pale hand twitched, and Cassandra saw a thin wand held in his hand, facing Marietta. She was about to cry a warning, but Harry clapped a hand over her mouth and hissed, “Shh! Let’s just see what he’s going to do.”

Malfoy pointed his wand at Marietta and said, “Imperio.” Marietta’s face went blank and still, and she followed Malfoy down the stairs. When their footsteps were gone, Harry pulled of the cloak, and stared at Cassandra, who looked just as shocked as he felt.

“He Imperiused her? But that’s illegal.” Cassandra fiddled with a strand of her hair nervously. “What did he do it for?”

Harry looked down the corridor where Malfoy and the Imperiused Marietta had gone. “He’s been Imperiusing people. Those Hufflepuffs. That’s what he’s been up to.”

“Why though?”

Harry shook his head, unable to think of an answer. “I don’t know.” But he made up his mind not to let Draco Malfoy out of his sight whenever he could and to stop and confront him about Imperiusing Hogwarts students.