Remember Me

Cassandra always preferred to be outside now. The dark walls of Grimmauld Place seemed to close in on her, and outside, where the air was crisp and cool, was a better place to sort out her confused thoughts.

She worried that her memory had not come back completely, and if something was wrong with it. There were memories that came easily to her, images of her childhood, and others that did not seem to fit in with her sheltered life at all. An image of a child running up to her in a shady forest…duelling an unknown wizard who kept his hood down…she was quite sure that these would not have happened to her. She had been kept hidden, a secret her whole life. Debbie and John wouldn’t have let her run around freely with the threat of Voldemort and his Death Eater’s forever hanging over them.

Grimmauld Place had become something of a home to her. The admittedly creepy corridors now seemed familiar, and even the shrunken heads of house-elfs didn’t disturb her, as they had before. It had become a place of warmth and friendship.

Hermione and visited a Muggle supermarket to fetch new clothes for Cassandra, but as their supply of Muggle money was quickly running out, she had taken the cheapest available, much to Cassandra’s displeasure.

She was outside. It was dark, and stars twinkled in the sky. Faint sounds of chatter came from inside where Hermione was cooking dinner and Ron attempting to help. Harry was outside with her, lying on his back as she poured over an old textbook.

“See that?” Cassandra said to Harry, pointing at a little group of stars. “That’s Sagitta.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s a constellation.” She showed him the page in the book. “It’s in the shape of an arrow.”

He yawned widely, and she snapped the book shut.

“Can tell you’re really interested in astronomy.”

Harry smiled and sat up. “What’s the point? Let’s face it, we’ll never go back to Hogwarts and take our NEWT’s.” He glanced at her familiar face, and her raised eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t like astronomy anyway.”

Cassandra dropped the book with a thud and laughed. “I was rubbish! I don’t know how I got an E in my OWL’s…seriously; I think poor Professor Sinistra would have counted a T as a success for me!” She leant back, and Harry did the same. “Of course, I do better in Divination.”

Harry grinned. “Of course…you’re a prophetess.”

“Exactly.”

“Becoming more like Professor Trelawney every day,” he continued, managing to keep a straight face as he stared up at the sky.

“Idiot!” Cassandra laughed, aiming a gentle punch at his stomach. He caught her wrist and put on a dreamy voice.

“Ahh…I can see great suffering…”

He ended quickly as Cassandra launched herself upon him, laughing as she tickled him. “Get off!”

They rolled around on the grass, giggling until a yell of pain sounded from the kitchen. They stared at each other in shock for a moment, before jumping up and running to the kitchen, pulling their wands out from their pockets as they did so.

Ron was holding his right hand tightly in his left. Hermione was pulling him over to the sink, saying, “Just run it under some cold water, it’ll be fine.”

“What happened?” asked Harry urgently, swinging his wand around the room as he looked for something that could be the cause of the scream.

Hermione sighed. She looked as if she was suppressing a smile. “Ron burnt himself,” she explained. “He forgot to use the oven gloves.”

Ron was now running his hand under the cold tap and swearing loudly. Cassandra giggled.
“Fine, Ron, I will take over helping Hermione. You go and feel depressed over your hand.”

“It bloody hurt, you know!”

“Ah…I’ll kiss it better, shall I?”

“Get off!”

Cassandra laughed, and pushed Ron and Harry out of the kitchen. Harry saw her flipping on a pair of oven gloves before taking out the large pot out of the oven. He and Ron could hear Hermione and Cassandra’s giggles as they walked slowly across the corridor, Ron still cradling a wet towel around his burnt hand. They went into the lounge and sat down in the old sofa.

“Is that the last time you help Hermione with the cooking then?” asked Harry, smiling.

“Too right it is,” said Ron. “Honestly, all this Muggle stuff…”

He trailed off into a long rant, but Harry wasn’t really listening. He had noticed something flickering outside the window, and crossed the room to see what it was.

At first, he noticed nothing abnormal. The street outside was dark, as usual. But then he noticed that the streetlight that normally shone faintly outside number eleven was out.
He knew only one person that had an object to put out street lights with.

“Dumbledore,” he muttered.

“What?” asked Ron from where he still lay on the sofa.

“Dumbledore!” Harry cried. “It must be, look!”

He pulled Ron up and dragged him over to the window, pointing out the street light. Ron shifted uncomfortably.

“I dunno, Harry…” he said. “Loads of wizards could do that.”

“No, it’s Dumbledore, it’s got to be!”

He was so sure in his belief, sure that Dumbledore was, any moment now, going to open the door to Grimmauld Place and bring news of the outside world, tell Harry what he must do…he turned his head towards the hallway, straining for a sound.

“Bloody hell,” whispered Ron suddenly. He had been peering out of the window, his nose pressed against the glass.

“What?”

Harry joined him, but Ron pushed him away.

“What?”

Ron was now pulling the heavy curtains across the window. “Harry, they’re out there.”

“Who?”

But a cold, sinking feeling was happening inside his stomach, and he knew…

“Malfoy. And a whole bunch of Death Eaters.”

“Malfoy?”

Harry could hardly believe it. Ignoring Ron’s complaints, he strode over to the window and searched the street. And then he saw what Ron had seen, a flash of silver-blonde hair and behind him a billowing cloak.

All of them had their wands pointing at Grimmauld Place.

“They can’t get in,” Harry said aloud, more to himself than Ron. “It’s protected by the Fidelius Charm.”

“Yeah, and Professor Grimstone was in the Order, wasn’t he! He would have told them how to get in!”

As they processed this, a laugh echoed up from the kitchen.

“Hermione,” muttered Ron, and together they sprinted down the stairs. As they did so, a crashing noise sounded from the hallway.

Hermione and Cassandra were laughing as they spooned something hot into bowls, looking up, surprised, when Ron and Harry dashed into the room, and then stood there, unsure what to do next.

“It’s okay, dinners nearly ready,” grinned Cassandra.

“No, it’s-“

Loud thumping footsteps could be heard. They had entered Grimmauld Place.

“Come on, Potter!” a rough, barking voice shouted. “We know you’re in here!”

All four of them froze.

“What’s going on?” breathed Cassandra.

“Death Eaters. They’ve found us.”

They were coming closer now. Harry could see the light from their wands.

“There!”

Cassandra was pulling out her wand. She directed it a a fork and whispered, “Portus.” It glowed with a pulsing blue light.

“Hold on, quickly,” she instructed, and they all put their fingers onto the Portkey, as Death Eaters burst into the room.

The room exploded, turning into bright red lights as Stunning Spells were shot at them from every corner. Harry dived down onto the floor, gripping the Portkey tightly, hoping, waiting…

A sudden jerk, and he was flying through space, with Ron, Hermione and Cassandra around him as they gripped onto the Portkey.

They slammed down onto a pavement with a thud.

Cassandra sighed. “I guess we’re really in the open now.”