Cassius slipped out of the forest edge and crossed the snowy lawn with casual ease—as if he hadn't just fought off nearly the entire Dementor population of Europe.
The quidditch pitch was still blazing in celebration when he approached.
His breath steamed softly in the cold, the echo of the previous events still radiating through his bones.
He had barely stepped onto the path before—
"CASSIUS!"
Six voices.
Perfectly synchronized.
He winced.
And then the girls crashed into him.
Daphne grabbed his collar first.
Ginny wrapped an arm around his waist.
Hermione seized his sleeve.
Astoria hugged him outright.
Cho looked relieved enough to melt.
Luna simply drifted into place beside him, serene but watching him with unsettling accuracy.
Cassius forced a calm smile.
"Ah. There you all are."
Ginny narrowed her eyes.
"Don't you 'there you all are' us. Where did you go?"
Daphne crossed her arms, tapping her foot. "You vanished the instant the match ended."
Hermione's voice was softer, worried. "Cassius… you didn't even celebrate. We were looking everywhere."
Cassius inwardly sighed.
Time to lie convincingly.
He scratched the back of his neck.
"Well… the match went on for far longer than I planned."
Six confused blinks.
Cassius continued, deadpan:
"…I had to use the bathroom."
Silence.
Then—
Ginny snorted.
Cho covered her mouth, shoulders shaking.
Astoria giggled into her scarf.
Daphne actually wheezed.
Hermione tried to be dignified but failed spectacularly.
Luna beamed, delighted.
"A very mortal reason," Luna said approvingly.
Cassius shrugged helplessly.
"What can I say? Humans have limits."
Daphne elbowed him lightly. "Only you could disappear like a dramatic hero and then blame bodily needs."
Ginny wrapped her arms around him again. "Honestly? Thank you."
He blinked. "For what?"
"For letting us shine," she said softly. "You could've ended the whole match in five minutes."
Cho nodded. "But you didn't. You let us play. You let us matter."
Astoria chimed in brightly, "We destroyed Slytherin! Like… destroyed destroyed!"
Hermione smiled at him—proud, warm, gentle.
"It meant more than you know," she whispered.
And Cassius—who had just fought monsters in the woods—found himself far more flustered by six affectionate witches than a swarm of soul-eating horrors.
He scratched his cheek.
"Well… you all deserved it. You trained hard. The victory belongs to you, besides the game places to much meaning on the seeker the other positions lose purpose."
Ginny punched his arm lightly. "Stop being sweet, it's confusing."
Luna nodded sagely. "He can't help it. It leaks out."
Cassius gave a put-upon sigh, letting them pull him back toward the castle, laughter trailing behind them like a banner of warmth.
But beneath his calm smile…
His thoughts sharpened.
Just what could Pettigrew have been doing within the castle?
Whatever they had done—he would uncover it soon.
But for now?
He let the girls lead him home.
~
Meanwhile — In the Headmaster's Office
Fawkes ruffled his feathers uneasily.
Even the phoenix could feel the leftover traces of Cassius's Patronus—echoes of draconic starlight drifting through the air of the castle grounds.
The office glowed with firelight, illuminating three very tense adults.
Minerva sat stiffly, lips pressed thin.
Albus leaned against his desk, fingers steepled.
And Lily—fists clenched—paced like a caged storm.
Albus spoke first.
"So. The Dementors crossed the boundary."
Minerva's voice was sharp. "I warned the Ministry this would happen! Allowing creatures like that to guard children—absurd!"
"What were they even doing!" Lily snapped. "The location where they were was far to close to the Quidditch pitch, all the kids, Albus the poor kids."
Albus nodded gravely. "Yes. But they would not come within the grounds without good reason, perhaps there was a threat that tried to make its way inside?"
Minerva frowned. "But if thats the case, what did they do? Afterall they managed to deal with the Dementors swarming."
"It was Cassius. I'm sure of it, think about it, he shot off as soon as the match was finished. And there were reports of a light dragon being seen, he must be in league with the intruders." Lily spat our accusingly.
"You think the boy a dark wizard Lily?" Minerva countered, for all her issues with Cassius as a rambuncious genius who had a penchant for bending the rules without getting caught breaking them. "One that could actually cast a patronus, the purest form of magic there is for the light?"
"So?" Lily hissed. "Dark wizards can use light magic if it benefits them. It just means he hasn't entirely fallen completly yet."
Albus shook his head gently.
"No, Lily. Not this magic."
The room quieted.
He continued:
"A Patronus is not merely light. It is a reflection of the soul. A dark-hearted wizard cannot conjure one—not truly. And certainly not a Patronus of such magnitude. If he harbours darkness in his heart he wouldnt be able to do what, was done here today."
Minerva nodded firmly. "Professor Sprout stated it herself, she saw a dragon made of light, and Remus already stated Cassius's patronus during class was a large dragon."
Lily's jaw tightened. "That proves nothing. He could be colluding with Death Eaters. They could have staged something. A temporary alliance even."
"Lily," Albus said softly, "Do you dislike Severus so much after all these years, that you would target his son so harshly?"
Lily turned pale at this.
The headmasters glinting eyes were fixed upon her.
Long had he been known to be a master legilimens, and now it felt like her memories were being bared before him, though the man himself claimed to never peek without consent.
But with not just the headmaster but now also the deputy headmistress staring at her waiting for an answer to the question, on if it was just prejudice against the man who she once loved.
Or to see if she would expose her darkest secret, and revealing the other half of Cassius's parentage that thus far has gone unknown.
But Lily didnt have an answer, not one she was ready to give.
Silence for now was her best option, anything else would make her look bad, and her reputation already was barely hanging on by a thread.