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2025-11-06
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Toujours

Summary:

Cassiopeia Melania Abbot is far from the ordinary. Raised by her mother on stories of magic and wonder, she always knew she was destined for something more.

But the Wizarding World is far from what she thought it to be. Everyone is claiming to know what she is, and who she's going to be, until Cassiopeia begins to doubt everything she knows. Haunted by the looming presence of Death, and with the wait of her past, present, and future resting on her shoulders, Cassiopeia is determined to find her own way through this world. She will, one way or another, make her name known.

The only question left, is how far will she go to secure her legacy?

Chapter 1: The Girl who Thrived

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 1

If you’d asked those who’d known Cassiopeia Melania Abbot since she was an infant, they would all tell you the exact same story: She was the picture-perfect child that all parents wished was their own. And for the lovely 11 years of her existence, she had tried her hardest to maintain this standard, with as much dignity as was reasonable for a child of her age, and height, to possess. She lived in the beautifully kept house of Number 13 Blackthorn Place, London, with her parents Mr and Mrs Abbot, and her little sister, Abagail.

Joseph Delaney Abbot was the perfect example of a politician, having worked his way up to Head of Department at his fancy corporate job – Cassiopeia wasn’t exactly sure what he did, but according to her mother, it meant that she was able to eat Lucky Charms for breakfast, and that was good enough. Celeste Kendra Abbot was a class-A type of stay-at-home mother. She made Cassiopeia breakfast in the mornings, and snacks when she got back from school – she was magical like that. Once, Cassiopeia had asked her mother why she seemed so magical, but she had only laughed – quite a magical laugh, if you ask Cassiopeia – and said, “One day, you might grow to be just as magical as me, if not more!” Before she had tackled her daughter to the ground in a fit of giggles.

Cassiopeia had thought that day would never come. For years she’d tried to use magic, staring at her math homework for hours, waiting for it to answer itself. She’d tried it on the dishes as well, thinking that if they would just clean themselves, then she would be able to watch another episode of My Little Pony.
It never worked, but Cassiopeia never lost hope, and every night, her mother made sure to fuel her daughter’s passion (against the wishes of her husband). She would bless her daughter with tales of a magical school designed for teaching young witches and wizards how to use their magic, beautiful horse-like creatures that blessed the sky, and giant toads that lurked in the swampy forest near their home. Teacher’s begun complaining when these creatures appeared in their classes, saying a blue snake-like creature in her drawings was making other kids cry, but Celeste never paid them any heed. She knew what she was preparing her eldest daughter for, and she knew these teachers didn’t truly understand her daughter’s brilliant mind.

It was only sometime after she turned 10, that Cassiopeia began to lose heart. Her mother had spoken of these wonders to her for many years now, but nothing ever seemed to change. Her school stayed the same, there never seemed to be giant frogs in the forest, or horses in the sky, or fluffy snakes in the attic. All that remained was their family of four, forever. She never mentioned this to her mother – she’d seemed too sad recently, too out of it, and Cassiopeia didn’t want to be another worry.

But then it happened. It had been a Friday, and Cassiopeia had already had a miserable day at school. For the first time, her teacher had pulled her to the side and asked why no peculiar creatures had graced her drawings that day, instead replaced by a terribly grim row of buildings, labelled as 12. Cassiopeia had only been able to shrug her shoulders and answer, “I didn’t see the point in it, when clearly those creatures don’t exist. So why should I waste my time thinking of things that will never show themselves?”
Her teacher had frowned – not a first, and not uncommon, but there was something different about this one, “What’s caused you to abandon your imagination, my dear? You’re too young to be worrying about the boring reality of our world.” Cassiopeia hadn’t been able to bring herself to answer. How was she to explain to her teacher that her sadness was simply caused by the lack of fun in the world where her mother’s creations didn’t exist? Ms Jane would only laugh and call her silly, before showing her a book on unicorns or some other fairytale. So, she’d sat there silently, with her building, and coloured in the lives of numbers 10, 12, and 14. Happy families laughing at dinner, and children playing with their toys. Adults dancing in their living rooms, and– and… Cassiopeia didn’t know what to put in number 12. She narrowed her eyes at the emptiness sitting behind the wonky window frames. She tried to draw two little boys, with curly, raven black hair, but it was all wrong. She could feel her eyes begin to burn as she scribbled over their figures, creating an ugly mess in the middle of her art. Her lip started trembling as she looked around the classroom, seeing all her friends happily playing with the Legos in the far corner. She wanted to join them, she really did, but she also wanted to curl up in a dark corner and let her tears fall away from the prying eyes of Miss Jane.

Her gaze dropped back to her drawing as a singular tear fell onto the window with the two boys, completely blurring all the lines from the scribbles into one blob. She tilted her head, watching the water soak into the paper as the lead lost its composure and broke down. She grabbed her sleeve, to wipe away the water, and gaped at the smear of grey it left in its ruin, completely ruining her drawing, and erasing any sign of the two boys. In her frustration, she ripped the paper from her notebook and smashed it into a ball, shoving it into the depths of her coat pockets as Miss Jane finally called them to get ready to go home. She’d stormed out of the classroom and slouched next to her mother as they were dismissed. Celeste had thrown her concerned looks all the way home, but Cassiopeia had not bothered to answer any of her questions, instead choosing to focus on the patterns of the raindrops outside her window, each falling droplet so similar to the ones that streaked her face.

“Cassiopeia, please talk to me, what’s the matter? I know I didn’t send you to school like this! Did something happen with your friends, with Miss Jane?”

Cassiopeia recrossed her arms, the only sign of her blatant refusal to acknowledge her mother’s presence. But she could practically hear the cogs turning in her mother’s mind, and had no time to react before she felt the car pull over on the side of the road.

“Cassiopeia, look at me please,” Celeste pleaded, her face flooding with sympathy as she saw the tears in her daughter’s eyes, “Oh my dear, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Cassiopeia’s gaze fell from her mother’s searching eyes, instead choosing to study her fingers as her mother tried to wipe away her tears. “You lied to me,” she whispered, trying to keep her tone steady.

“I lied? My love, I would never lie to you, never. What on Earth to you think I lied about?”

“Everything! All the magic! The school, the night-time cows, and the invisible sloths on two legs, and the pretty orange birds! It’s all fake!”

Celeste paused, taking her words in with a heavy sadness, “Did someone… tell you it was fake?”

Cassiopeia’s fists curled into little balls on her lap, “No one had to tell me it was fake, mom! All I have to do is look around and– and I’ll find nothing. Because there is nothing to find.”

Celeste’s eyes shifted back to the road, tension running through her jaw, before she pulled out her phone, dialling a number. “Hi, love, would you be able to pack some clothes for myself and Cassiopeia? We’re going to go on a little mother-daughter trip this weekend.”

Cassiopeia’s eyes widened in disbelief as she heard her parents talking. Her mother gave a confirming hum, “I can always go shopping on the way up there if needed – Yeah, we’re just going to travel up to the Grampian Highlands for a bit of fun – Yes, yes, I’ll email the school if we end up staying a bit longer – Yes, just an old haunt, nothing unfamiliar – Yes, I’ll write up a schedule for Abagail, she knows what she likes for breakfast – I love you to, Joseph, I’ll see you in 10.” She swiftly hung up and placed her phone back down before noticing her daughter’s frozen face, “Is something wrong, Cassiopeia?”

“Yeah! I don’t want to go camping! And I have school on Monday I can’t miss that!” She cried in outrage.

Celeste scoffed, “Please, when I was your age, I was trying everything in my power to miss school, there’s no way you would rather be there – and miserable – than in Scotland with your amazing mother, where you’re bound to be much happier.”

“But why Scotland? There are hundreds of closer campsites and mountains than Scotland!”

Her mother sighed, tired, “Because, Cassiopeia, I’m going to prove to you that this magic does exist, that these creatures and this school are real. And the only way to do that, is by visiting an old friend.”

Her old friend, as it happened, appeared to be a man with fluffy brown hair and a peculiar name. When they’d stopped at home, her mother had made a second call as Cassiopeia had helped her father load the car. She thought she’d heard her mother call him Ned, or Nate, but as they begun to drive north, Celeste would not stop rambling about a newt with all his amazing creatures. It was only when they pulled into the carpark of a rather abandoned and dilapidated Tesco, retrieved their bags, and walked over to the man with the suitcase, that Cassiopeia realised she had been wrong.

“Celeste, is that you? You’ve grown!” He’d exclaimed, enveloping her – and his suitcase – in a huge hug. Releasing her, his eyes dropped to Cassiopeia, his smile stretched to his eyes, “And you must be Cassiopeia, your mother’s eldest?”

Cassiopeia shyly nodded her head, slightly out of her comfort zone, and stepped behind her mother. She’d never been the best with new people, and this was no exception. Her mother turned to her, pulling Cassiopeia into her side, “Cassiopeia, this is Newt. He’s one of my friends from school.”

Cassiopeia’s eyes widened, realising Newt had been a human being this whole time. Who in their right mind named their child Newt? But that felt rather rude to say, so instead she asked, “School? Does dad know him as well?”

But her mother only laughed, that beautiful, twinkly sound, and replied, “No, my love. Newt and I went to Hogwarts together – the magical school I’ve been telling you about!”

Cassiopeia’s nose wrinkled in confusion, “What? But that school’s not real, I told you that!”

Interrupting their conversation, Newt coughed, “Well, Celeste, if you’re sure about this, I suggest we apparate now. Tina’s been cooking all afternoon, and I don’t really trust Rolf to be left with the Nifflers.”

Cassiopeia took another step back from the strange man, “There’s no such thing as a Niffler. There isn’t, I know it.”

Newt and Celeste made eye contact over Cassiopeia, some sort of secret conversation occurring, before Celeste nodded and turned back to her child, “Cassiopeia, magic is real. Haven’t you noticed anything odd about Newt?”

She had in fact, noticed many odd things about Newt. His black pants did not match his mustard yellow vest, or his dark blue trench coat, and the little black tie on his shirt was far from the ordinary, not to mention the peculiar green –

Cassiopeia screamed, “What is that?

Newt grinned, “That’s a Bowtruckle. Pickett’s clingier than– Ow!” He yelped as the creature – Pickett bit his thumb, clearly having heard what Newt said, “Ow, yes, Pickett, you know I didn’t mean it like that – Oh, just go off and be annoyed at me for the rest of the day, will you? You’re setting a bad example here– You wanted to meet Cassiopeia, there’s no other reason you would have come out! Wait, Pickett, where are you going?”

His eyebrows raised as Pickett tried to get to Cassiopeia, but the gap between Newt’s hand and her shoulder was too wide. Angrily, Pickett turned to face Newt, making wild hand movements towards Cassiopeia

Newt hesitated, before meeting Cassiopeia’s eyes, “You wouldn’t be interested in, I dunno, holding him?

She frowned in distain at the creature, “He’s not going to… bite me, is he?” Before Newt even had the chance to respond, Pickett shook his head vehemently at her, almost a promise that he would never bring her harm.

She hesitated. Her mother had told her of these creatures once before, many years ago. She’d spoken about how they resided in magical trees, whose wood was used to make wands and potions for witches and wizards alike, but she’d also mentioned how aggressive they got when their home, or themselves, was threatened, and she didn’t want that to happen to her. But some part of her found her nodding her head and stretching her arm out towards the Bowtruckle. He ran from Newt’s arm all the way up her shoulder, before he slipped into the front pocket of her coat, his head only slightly peaking out. She giggled, not quite expecting Pickett to do that, and grinned up at her mother and Newt.

“Are you ready to go, Cassiopeia?” Her mother questioned, reaching her hand out towards her daughter.

“Yeah! Is Newt joining us in the car? Do I have to sit in the back now?” Her eyebrows furrowed at this possibility, not looking forward to the squishy backseat.

“Not quite, my love. Newt’s going to get us there slightly quicker, through Apparition.”

“Merlin knows you were never the best at it,” Newt teased, “Cassiopeia, if you would be able to hold my suitcase – make sure it doesn’t unbuckle, please – then I’m going to hold your other hand, and then we’ll get out of here.”

She did as Newt said, sliding his suitcase into her free palm, making sure the buckles stayed down. “Now what?” She questioned.

Her mother grinned, “Now you hold on tight.”

And not a moment later, the three of them vanished into a flash of light.

Chapter 2: The House in the Woods

Chapter Text

They reappeared instantly into the middle of a clearing, surrounded by massive, looming trees, their branches creating a perfect canopy that hid all from the outside world.

Unfortunately for Cassiopeia, she was too busy trying not to vomit to care too much about the trees. Somewhere in front of her, a blurry outline came into view, accompanied by a distorted voice, “I– I think I’m going to be sick–“ She whimpered, feeling the nausea completely overwhelm her senses and then– nothing.

Her vision cleared out as she looked up, stunned, “What…”

Leniens,” Newt spoke, as he showed her the neatly polished wooden stick he had brandished.

Celeste smiled at her daughter, “That’s Newt’s wand. It’s how most wizards and witches control their magic,”

She frowned, “I’ve never seen you with a wand though. Are you not a witch?”

“Of course I am, sweet, I just happen to be more proficient without one. And of course, I wouldn’t want your sister stumbling across it and accidentally hurting herself.”

Cassiopeia went to respond, but at that exact moment a strange female voice was heard, coming from the edge of the clearing, “Newt, is that you?” The person walks closer to them, their pace quickening when they see Celeste and Cassiopeia by Newt’s side, “Oh Merlin, Celeste!” Cassiopeia can now see that it is a woman, with short, shoulder-length dark-brown hair, and stunning dark brown eyes. Her face was lit up in happiness as she barrelled into Cassiopeia’s mother, forcing her into what appeared to be a bone-crushing hug.
Celeste let out a shocked laugh, before hugging the woman back, “Hello to you too, Tina, I’ve missed your gorgeous face!”

The woman – Tina – stepped back, examining Celeste, “you’re grown your hair out! But it doesn’t look half bad like this, so I’ll let it slide. Oh and– you must be Cassiopeia!” At this, Tina crouched down. Cassiopeia was by no means short for her age, in fact most said that she would grow to be quite tall, so Tina was left to look up at her, “I’m Tina. Newt’s my husband.”

Cassiopeia nodded mutely, unsure what to do in this situation. Thankfully, her mother understood, “I’m sure the trip up here has taken its toll on Cassiopeia – and myself. Merlin knows it’s been a minute since I’ve apparated.”

Tina’s eyes widened, “Oh, of course! Inside, inside, all of you – yes, you too Newt, it’s about time you have a proper meal again instead of lurking about with those creatures of yours.”

Newt ducked his head, “Yes, yes, if you insist. Is there a room made up for our guests to stay in?”

“Rolf’s just finishing it off now – his punishment for trying to sneak off with that hippogriff again. He’s beyond furious that he doesn’t have any magic to help him out yet, the poor boy.”

“Rolf? Is he your son?” Celeste asked, looking up from collecting their bags.

Tina smiled, “Yes, he’s normally a joy to be around, but he’s embraced his… inner spirit since getting his Hogwarts letter, to say the least.”

Cassiopeia perked up at this, “Hogwarts? He’s going to Hogwarts?”

Her mother nodded, “He’s your age, actually. I was hoping the two of you would become friends before you go to school.”

Cassiopeia picks up her bag, the idea of being friends with a boy running through her head, so she just shrugged her shoulders and muttered, “maybe…”

The two mothers exchanged teasing looks before Tina spoke, “it might be best for us to all go inside now, I think.”

 

The inside of their house, was nothing like the outside. What appeared to be a small, homely cottage in the woods, grew into an elegant interior. Vines draped the wooden panels of the stained glass windows on the walls, and beautiful roses of all colours lines the rails of the spiral staircase. She could see how the foyer led into a kitchen with an equally high ceiling, and the staircase was nearly the seven people wide. Simply put, their house was massive for only three people, but then again, she thought, maybe they needed room for–

DUCKKKKK!” A voice from above yelled. Cassiopeia shrieked, before slamming her body against the wooden panels of the floor, her knees throbbing from impact. From the top of the staircase, a boy appeared, roughly her age, with a look of pure terror on his face as a vivid blue streak careened straight for her. Her eyes widened has she hastily propelled her body towards the wall, the blue only narrowly missing her as it collided with the floor. She could now clearly see what lay in front of her – a brilliantly speckled bird, almost identical in appearance to bluejay, were it three sizes too big.

Its beady eyes locked onto her quickly, its head cocked to the side, almost considering whether she would make a tasty meal or not. Cassiopeia tried to push herself farther away from the huge bird, and opened her mouth to try and call for help – where was her mother? Where was Newt, or Tina?

And then the beast lunged, and there was nothing she could do. She faintly heard frantic voices, both young and old, in the background as it drew loser and flared its wings, beak open, and then–

It stopped.

The beast slowed to a halt right before her feet. Its eyes locked with her own, and the whole world seemed to freeze in that moment. Slowly, Cassiopeia stretched her shaking hand towards to the bird, her eyes filled with amazement as it almost smiled, and allowed her fingers to slowly stroke its vivid feathers, of which almost glowed, as if imbued with magic. She slowly looked up, noticing her mother’s smile. Cassiopeia nodded at the bird, “Is this – Is this a Jobberknoll? Like from your stories?”

Her mother’s smile grew, but it was Newt who spoke next. He was the closest to her and the bird – the Jobberknoll, and she could see a peculiar wonder in his gaze, “Yes, it is. And this particular one, Aurora, has been exceptionally troublesome in her stay with us.” As he spoke, she observed him crouch on the ground, slowly unbuckling his briefcase and positioning its main compartment facing the bird. “She’s been abnormally aggressive since arriving – She was found with a broken wing in a poacher’s camp, only a couple miles east from her den. Its currently their breeding season, so the lack of access to her species has driven her mental.” Newt began slowly inching his case closer as he spoke, his eyes never leaving Aurora. “It’s her own fault though. If she’d just taken a moment to let her body heal, we could have taken her back weeks ago, or at least introduced her to one of the resident males here. But, she’s been quite adamant in proving a pain.” Finally close enough, Newt risked a glance at Cassiopeia, “She seems to trust you though, so your help here would be much appreciated. My case provides a link to a series of vivariums that will allow me to easily get her back on the path to recovery, I’m not yet sure what pain her wing is currently in after flying. If you would be able to very carefully coax her towards my case – careful of the wing of course – then we’ll be on our way.”

She nodded, looking back to Aurora. “Do you think you would be able to move towards the nice mans case for me? That way, we’ll be able to fix your wing, and you can go back home quicker! But it can only happen if you work with us, please?”

And then it was almost as if Aurora knew exactly what Cassiopeia was asking of her – Aurora’s head gave a slight nod as she turned herself around, gave a careful shake out of her feathers, and hopped into the case. Newt snapped it shut quickly, waiting a moment before picking it up and turning his attention towards his son, “So how exactly did this happen?”

Rolf’s eyes widened as he scrambled to find the words, “I finished preparing their rooms early, and I was so bored, just sitting there! So I went to go see if I could find Stormbill, because I knew you’d hidden her somewhere, but I couldn’t find her, so I thought that – you’d spoken of how mental Aurora was so many times at dinner, so I was so sure that she would be similar to Stormbill, but when I walked into her vivarium, she was almost waiting at the door to pounce. She knocked me down and flew through the door before it closed and well…”In all fairness, Rolf did look sorry for his actions, but Cassiopeia could tell he seemed the type to still do such thing again.

Newt ran his hand through his hair, amused with his son’s antics. He turned to Celeste, “Would it be alright if Cassiopeia could help me with Aurora? I promise it’ll be a more controlled encounter than what we just witnessed, and I’ll be sure to keep her safe.”

Celeste turned to her daughter, “Do you want to go and help Newt? I’m sure he would be more than willing to introduce you to some of the other beasts I’ve told you about.”

Cassiopeia nodded her head in a quick return, too excited to form words. Aurora had been the most beautiful bird she’d ever seen – there was simply no comparison to any of the common songbirds that sang outside her bedroom window. She needed to know what else existed from her mother’s stories.

It was then Tina who spoke as she eyed off her son, “And I’m sure Rolf would be more than willing to assist with Aurora’s recovery as well, Newt. He was just dying earlier to be given the chance to clean the Kneazle’s den, and rid the Crups of the Chizpurfles.”

Rolf’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head at his mother’s words, “W-what? But last time I did that those pests ruined my watch! It took my ages to fix it! And the Kneazle’s will hate me for messing with their home! You can’t-“

“Oh but I can! That’s what happens when you touch things you shouldn’t, young man!” Tina scolded, “And in front of guests as well? Aurora nearly hurt Cassiopeia, and herself! This punishment is nothing.”

Rolf slumped his shoulders as he glanced at Cassiopeia, “I’m really sorry, it wasn’t meant to happen. I had no idea she would do that.”

Cassiopeia smiled, “It’s alright, I’m just glad she’s OK.” She turned to her mother, “Are you going to come see Aurora with us?”

Celeste shook her head, “No, Tina and I are going to catch up over a cup of tea, but make sure to say hi to everyone for me.”

And with that, Cassiopeia and Rolf followed behind Newt as he led them up the stairs and into an endless hallway. At what would normally have been halfway, Newt opened a door on their left to reveal what must have been the most beautiful ‘cage’ ever. It was a wonder numerous bugs didn’t fly through her wide-open mouth as she took in her surrounds.

In the distance, Cassiopeia could make out snow-dusted mountain peaks, and before it lay hundreds of lush trees, their leaves dappled with red in the autumn season. To her right, she could make out the dilapidated cobblestone ruins of what was once a village, but now lay covered in growing vines.

But right in front of her, grew what must be the most breathtaking tree in the world. It bore no leaves to its branches, each of which struck out against the sky in a bold display. And yet, in every nook and cranny of the tree rested Jobberknoll nests. Many were long abandoned, memories of the past birds that Newt had rescued, until Newt redirected Cassiopeia’s gaze towards the forest. She gasped as she saw pairs of the beautiful Jobberknolls soaring above the trees, the sun perfectly illuminating the vibrant purples and blues of their feathers. “They’re beautiful!” She exclaimed, looking over at Newt and Rolf, the latter of which was still sulking over his mother’s punishment.

Newt stepped forward, briefcase in hand, “I’ve found over the years that Jobberknolls have a strong preference for English Oak trees – one of few magical trees, the English Oaks are known for their affinity with the magic of the natural world, and are most commonly considered the Kings of the Forest. Of course, wizards love using their wood for their wands, so Jobberknolls have learnt to reside in the Oaks that grow separate from the rest of the magical forest. Some call it an intuition given to them by the trees themselves, others say it’s a baseless fact and the birds just like peace and quiet, and idea taken from the Jobberknoll’s lack of song until their dying breaths.” And with that, he flung his suitcase open, and climbed in.

Unsure if she was to follow Newt into his case or not, Cassiopeia hesitantly looked at Rolf in question. He shook his head solemnly and said, “I hope I have an English Oak wand. Dad told me Merlin did, and he was the greatest wizard ever.”

Cassiopeia frowned slightly, “What?”

“Merlin? The World’s Most Powerful Wizard? Magician, Prophet, and–”

“I know who Merlin is! I was originally asking if we were supposed to follow your dad.”

“Oh. No, he’ll be out in a second.” She watched as an idea slowly formed on Rolf’s face, “Say… You wouldn’t be interested in seeing a Chizpurfle, would you?”

She laughed, not unkindly, “Ha, you mean doing your defleaing chore for you? I’ll pass, I think. I would love to meet some of your father’s other creatures though, you think he’ll show me?”

Rolf scoffed, “The question is, what won’t he show you?” What he meant to come off as slightly snarky faded as soon as he made the mistake of glancing over at Cassiopeia, who bore the stupidest grin on her face. He snapped instantly, and the two of them broke into instantaneous laughter, continuously fueled by the silly thought that there was no reason for such hilarity.

When Newt re-emerged with Aurora not ten seconds later, he could not help but be happy at how well the two children were getting on. He made note to tell Tina when they were finished in the vivarium, if she was not already aware. He was glad that Rolf would have someone by his side as he entered Hogwarts, regardless of the possible mischief they could get up to.

Their laughing subsided as they noticed Newt’s presence, and Cassiopeia’s face lit up with delight as her eyes fell on Aurora. Newt found that in some form, he was excited for Cassiopeia’s interest in the beasts of the magical world – not to say that Rolf had anything against them, but he knew his son would find more passion in the subject if he had another soul right at his side, and Newt knew that nurturing their enthusiasm would lead to nothing short of greatness.

Chapter 3: The Letters from Everyone

Chapter Text

Cassiopeia spent the next few days learning all there was to know about the magical world. Tina handed her books on the magical world (including, but not limited to, Hogwarts: A History by Bathilda Bagshot, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century by Theophilus Abbot, and The History of Wands: How their Magic Chooses the Wizard by Gerbold Ollivander), all of which proved to be excellent reads. She spent numerous hours with Newt, learning about all the exotic creatures she’d spent years hearing about, and her afternoons were filled with Rolf teaching her about the wonders of Quidditch, of which she believed she picked up quite quickly. By the time dinner rolled around, on her final night with the Scamander family, Cassiopeia could not stop thinking about the endless possibilities that Hogwarts would present her.

The five of them sat around the dining table, feasting on Pumpkin Pastries and Freshwater Plimpies (they taste better then they sound), and laughing about storied from Newt and Celeste’s time at Hogwarts. “And then not five seconds after Celeste had cast the leg-locking curse on Lucinda Talkalot, McGonagall walked right in! Detention for a week she was given, right there and then!”

Celeste cackled, “Ok, ok, but that’s not the full story! Only just before, she’d insulted my best friend, who, admittedly, had just gotten a rather terrible haircut over the holidays. But I couldn’t let that stand!”

Cassiopeia grinned at her mother, she wasn’t used to seeing her so loud and lively, she acted more mature around the parents of Cassiopeia’s friends. But she didn’t allow herself to dwell on it, not as two beautiful tawny owls swooped through the kitchen, dropping two neat stacks of envelopes before Newt before soaring out through the open window. “Oh, well would you look at that! Rolf, Cassiopeia, there’s letters for you!”

Cassiopeia’s eyes widened, locking with Rolf’s across the table as the scrambled from their seats to grab the mail from Newt. And it was true, for right in her hands, she held a parchment, addressed to no one but her:

 

Miss C. Abbot

The Smaller Guest Bedroom,

Scamander Residence,

The Grampian Ranges,

PITLOCHRY

 

Astounded, Cassiopeia ripped the letter open:

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

 

Dear Miss Abbot,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

 

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

 

Yours sincerely,

 

Minerva McGonagall

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

 

Cassiopeia was officially going to Hogwarts. She looked up at her mother, mind already brimming with possibilities, “They want me, mom! They want me to be their student!”

“Of course they do, my love, how could they not?” She made eye contact with Tina, “We’ll have to arrange for some time to take these two to Diagon Alley for their school supplies, of course! We can make a whole day of it in London”

“Diagon Alley,” She interrupted, “What’s that?”

“What’s that?” Rolf spluttered from his seat across the table, “You live closer to London than me and you’ve never been to Diagon Alley?”

“Now, now, Rolf,” Tina tsked, “That’s not very polite, is it?”

Rolf had the modesty to look ashamed, but it was clear the answer was unsatisfactory.

Celeste intervened, “Well, Rolf, whilst myself and Cassiopeia are witches, my husband is what you would call a Muggle, and I made a deal with him when Cassiopeia was born that I wouldn’t introduce her to magic unless I was sure she would be a witch. And whilst I always was sure, I had to honour that deal.”

His face scrunched up, “But why?”

She laughed, “Because he’s my partner! And that’s what you do in marriage, you make compromises in order to keep each other happy!”

“…That sounds a bit stupid to me,” Rolf replied, narrowly dodging his mother’s angry hand in turn.

“But what is Diagon Alley?” Cassiopeia inquired, still very unsure about the popularity of this alley.

“Diagon Alley is kind of like a shopping street for Wizards, like Oxford Street in London,” Tina supplied, “It’s where Hogwarts students get their uniforms and books, and other magic folk go for their own reasons - whether it be food, new clothes, or other magic items that you can’t find in Muggle London.”

“Woah,” She breathed, “That’s so cool! So there’s like… Wizard ice cream?”

“A whole parlour dedicated to it!” Rolf butted in, “Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour! Mum took me once, I got a chocolate and raspberry flavour - it was delicious!”

Newt looked affronted, “You went without me?”

“You were busy in Romania, with that Romanian Longhorn!” Tina smiled, cheekily, “Besides, you never would have left the Parlour once you’d entered, and we had to leave Flor with at least something to sell to other customers!”

His only response was a sour glare as he returned to sorting through the mail. “Oh Celeste, there’s something here for you as well. From Dumbledore.”

Her mother’s eyebrows raised as she took the letter from Newt. She carefully broke the seal and pulled out a small piece of parchment. Cassiopeia watched her mother’s face as she read the letter, taking note as an uncomfortable tension settled over the room. Tina was the first to break the silence, “Is everything alright, Celeste?”

Celeste wordlessly handed the letter to Tina, eyes stuck to her plate as Tina examined the contents, “Oh, well that’s lovely! Are you going to say yes?”

Celeste laughed, mirthlessly, “Say yes? Of course I’m not going to say yes!”

“Sorry, what’s this about?” It was Newt who said this, clearly feeling just as put out as Cassiopeia.”

“Albus has asked me to take on the role of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts this year.”

“Woahhhh,” Rolf breathed, “Are you going to be my professor?”

Celeste scoffed, “Hardly. There’s no way I’m taking this, for numerous reasons,” She shared a look with Newt, “He’ll have to find someone else! Whatever happened to Olivia Green, she was doing great in the position, last I’d heard!”

Newt grimaced, “Retired. Returned to the Ministry, I believe.”

“Oh well then…” Celeste faltered, “What about Quirinus? He was always an exceptional student in the subject!”

“Quirrell? Last I heard, he was teaching Muggle Studies--”

“No, he took a gap year, Professor Arif Sikander took over.” Tina interrupted.

“Well that’s lovely!” Celeste clapped her hands, “Arif can hold on to that for another year, and Quirinus will come back to teach Defence against the Dark Arts!”

Newt scrunched his nose, “Quirrell was always an odd sort…”

Celeste coughed, “Like you were any better? Did you not once get detention for telling a teacher ‘there are no strange creatures, only blinkered people’?”

“There is a succinct difference between magical beasts, and somehow magical wizards. But this isn’t the point. I won’t make you take the job, but I think you’ll be missing out.”

But Celeste only shook her head, “I’ll write him back after dinner. Cassiopeia, what else is in your letter?”

She startled, too caught up in the drama, and pulled the second piece of parchment from the envelope:

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

  1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
  2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
  3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
  4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

 

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

 

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

 

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

 

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

 

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

 

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

 

“Newt! Your book is on here!” Cassiopeia exclaimed, after she’d examined the list.

“I guess you’ll be able to get your copy easy then!” Tina joked, smiling at the ecstatic girl.

“Really?”

Newt cracked a grin, “I’ll sign it and everything.”

She tugged on her mother’s shoulder, “When can we go? Now?”

Celeste only laughed, “No, I do need to get you back to your school, but I’m sure the Scamander’s would love to meet us there, this coming Saturday? We can make a whole day of it!”

“That way the two of you can explore together!” Tina intervened, ‘As I’m sure there are many things us adults have to discuss after all these years.”

Dinner was quickly cleaned up, and Cassiopeia and Rolf quickly ran upstairs to his room, where Rolf showed her his collection of Chocolate Frogs (well, the cards), “This one says he was able to produce a patronus the size of a giant!”

Her eyes went as wide as saucers, “He could make a giant?”

“No, silly!” Rolf laughed, “A patronus is kind of like a ghost-guardian. You need to find a really happy memory to form one, and it’s really hard to form a complete one. Or at least, that’s what my mum told me.”

“But why do we need them? What do they actually do?”

Rolf scrunched up his nose, “Well, there’s these dark creatures called Dementors. Dad told me about them, said it’s never a creature that he wants to cross again. He says they look like Death himself, and they take all the happiness out of you. Which is why we need the patronus! Because they’re super happy and protect us!”

She frowned, “I guess that makes sense… What does a patronus look like?”

“I’m not really sure,” Rolf admitted, “I’ve never seen mum’s or dad’s patronus, but from what they’ve told me everyone has a different animal.”

Cassiopeia contemplated this, “Then I hope mine is a Jobberknoll, just like Aurora!”

Rolf scoffed, “A Jobberknoll? What’s so good about them? You’d want a Hippogriff, or a Thestral – Someone once had a Mammoth! Why wouldn’t you want one of those super cool ones?”

“I dunno!” She shrugged, “They’re just cute!”

“Fine. Well, I would want something like a Manticore!”

“What’s a Manticore?”

“What’s a—what’s a Manticore? Only the most awesome beast ever! it has the body of a Lion, but the tail of a Scorpion! Any Dementor would be too scared to come anywhere near me!” She giggled, trying to picture the silly Lion in her head. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll just show you then.”

Her laugh became more nervous, “What do you mean you’ll show me? Didn’t you say they were dangerous?”

“Not a real one,” He clarified, , “Just the one on my Chocolate Frog card, of course!”

After a few seconds of digging through his cards, he brought out a pentagon-shaped card, with a small image of the previously described Manticore roaring fiercely. “Woahhh,” She breathed, grabbing the card from him to inspect it better, “How does this work? The moving image?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” He admitted, “But wizards use it a lot for their photos. You’ll see moving images in a lot of our newspapers, especially The Daily Prophet.”

She flipped the card over in her hand, reading the short blurb on it’s back:

 

A rare, dangerous beast, the Manticore has been known to sing softly as it east its prey. It's sting will kill instantaneously.

 

“Why would you want to have one of these? That sounds terrible!”

“I don’t want an actual one! Dad’s got one and that already causes him enough trouble. Just one as my Patronus, to scare everyone off!”

She considered this, “Alright. What other cards do you have, maybe a scary animal is the right way to go after all.”

They went through all of Rolf’s cards, discussing the pros and cons of each animal. Eventually he got bored, and moved on to Quidditch – a very novel concept. Admittedly, the rules were very interesting, and she found herself hoping she could play for her house once she was old enough. He told her about the professional teams as well, “Canada only just beat Scotland last year, so there won’t be another world cup until 1994! And then of course there’s the British and Irish Quidditch League, and this year the Kenmare Kestrels have been absolutely blasting through the League, which really, is the most exciting thing to have happened since the Banchory Bangers were forced to disband back in 1814…”

By the time Cassiopeia’s mother came upstairs to tuck her into bed, she knew there would be no chance of sleeping that night, not with Hogwarts finally becoming a reality. Cassiopeia was beyond excited, for the beginning of her Hogwarts journey. The animals, The Scamander’s, Diagon Alley… Everything her mother had shown her over the past few days had been exactly what she’d needed. No longer would she mope over that failed drawing from the week prior, or worry over the falsities of her mother’s stories. She knew it was all true now, and she was ready to make the most of this opportunity.

Cassiopeia would become the best Witch ever, and there was nothing no one could do to stop her. Magical Beasts, flying, potions, or spells, she was determined to make her mother, her family, proud.

The world would come to know the name Cassiopeia Melania Abbot, and she would make sure of it.

Chapter 4: Foxcroft Academy: The Very Normal Boarding School for Completely Non-Magical Humans

Chapter Text

By the end of the weekend, there was not a doubt in Cassiopeia's mind that magic was not real. Every waking hour (and dream) was spent thinking over the countless creatures and beasts that Newt looked after, and every meal introduced her to some new form of magical food her mother had failed to present her with (Caldron Cakes were her absolute favourite). But the time had come for Cassiopeia and her mother to depart the Scamander residence, and return to her depressing life in Number 13 Blackthorn Place, London. It wasn’t a sad farewell though, as the countdown had already begun for when she would see her new friends again. She only had to make it through the week.

“Do I still have to go to my primary school, mum?” She asked, looking up at Celeste with pure hope.

“Yes, of course, my dear,” came her response, “Your father is still very insistent on you getting the most of your Muggle education before your Hogwarts departure.” Cassiopeia slumped backwards in the passenger seat. She could already see the looming buildings of London nearing closer, and she found herself dreading it. “Don’t worry my love, there’s only one week remaining of the year, and then you’re free to daydream about magic as much as you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

 

Monday:

The first day back was difficult. Abagail had been beyond happy to see her mother and sister again, furious that she had been left behind. “Next time, my sweet Abagail, next time I’ll take you with me, and you’ll see all that your sister has.”

Her mother had been making a lot of promises lately. Cassiopeia’s mother had said that she could not talk about magic or Hogwarts at home, it didn’t make father happy, and Abby would simply become too jealous.

So Cassiopeia stayed quiet.

In class, the teacher asked everyone to go around the circle and say what they had done on their weekend. Cassiopeia knew she wasn’t allowed to mention magic at home, and she was sure similar rules would apply here, in a room filled with Muggles (she didn’t mean for it to sound rude, but there was clearly a distinct difference between herself and her peers, now that she knew she was a Witch, of course). So when it rolled around to her turn, and they eyes of the whole class were on her, she simply said, “I went camping, and saw plenty of pretty animals.” No mention of magic, or her new boarding school. She had done good. But it felt like there was something missing. Now that she knew the magic was there, it didn’t feel right to ignore it, it didn’t feel right at all.

Her mother had warned her that as her magic began to manifest, too strong emotions could trigger unwanted outbursts of untethered energy – magic in its rawest, most uncontrolled form. She had said it was similar to how she used wandless magic, except Cassiopeia lacked the training to concentrate it down into a usable spell. And despite how much she had begged and pleaded, Celeste had been firm in her opinion to not teach Cassiopeia how to use this magic. “It’s not allowed, sweetheart. You’re an underage witch, and the Ministry of Magic can track every spell you do outside of Hogwarts. It’s best you wait for your schooling to begin before you start learning spells, the most I can teach you is how to tell when your emotions begin to get the best of you, and how to stop your magic from bubbling to the surface.”

And Merlin knows Cassiopeia was eager to learn even the smallest fragment of magic, so of course she agreed, “How do I control that? Is there a spell I need to remember? A series of movements to master? A—”

“No, nothing like that. Come sit by me. Yes, on the floor. Now cross your legs, like me.”

Cassiopeia did just that, resting her hands on her knees, “What now?”

“Close your eyes, and breathe. This breathing style is called box-breathing, where you do each step for four seconds. Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold, and repeat. As you do this, you become a second-hand witness to any thoughts running through that beautiful head of yours. You see them, you acknowledge them, and you let them go, let them run free from your mind, your thoughts.”

Cassiopeia kept her eyes closed, but frowned, “But how does this help to control my magic? I can’t just sit down whenever I feel angry! People will think I’m weird!”

“You’ve got to let go of the thoughts of others. Their opinions must mean nothing to you. And to answer your first question, your emotions are tied to your magic. A calm mind, means calm emotions, which means calm magic. When you’re first learning to meditate, sitting with your eyes closed is simply the best way to focus, but as you journey through Hogwarts, and use this more and more, you will only need the breathing to calm your mind, and—”

“—And my emotions and magic.”

“Exactly.” Cassiopeia can almost hear the smile in her mother’s voice.

And so they sit, facing each other with their legs crossed, eyes closed, and breathing synced. Their thoughts come and go, and Cassiopeia does not find herself missing them.

Eventually, Cassiopeia feels herself beginning to succumb to sleep, and she feels her mother’s arms around her, picking her up and carrying her to bed.

Celeste’s lips press to her daughter’s forehead, “You have strong magic my angel, and this will help in time, I promise.”

Her mother had been making a lot of promises lately. But Cassiopeia found that it was alright. They were good promises.

 

Tuesday:

“Cassie, Cassie, look what I have!” It was one of her many classmates, running towards her at full speed. She come to a stop right in front of the confused girl, leaning over as she fought to catch her breath.

“Annalise,” Cassiopeia greeted. She couldn’t ever say she had been the most fond of the girl. Cassiopeia hated nicknames, and this girl went against her singular belief (well, she went against many of them, actually, but she always had chocolate in her lunch, and Cassiopeia had weak morals.) “What are those-”

“They’re wands!”

Cassiopeia froze. There was no way Annalise of all people knew her secret, right? Or could Annalise be a witch too? Would they be at Hogwarts together? Would Cassiopeia never truly escape her—

“Do you want to play Wizards with me? I asked Georgia and Tommy, but they already had plans to play Tag on the oval, and I didn’t really want to run around. Tommy always wins Tag, it’s not very fair you know, because he’s a boy and all—”

“All right,” Cassiopeia interrupted, “I’ll play with you. Which one’s mine?”

Annalise grinned, handing her the slightly shorter (and much more crooked) stick, brandishing her own against Cassiopeia with elaborate, flourish gestures, clearly meant to intimidate her. Already she could feel herself growing annoyed with the girls antics. She was in no mood to play pretend, she wanted her own, real wand. Was that too much to ask for?

Annalise pointed her want at Cassiopeia’s chest, “Haha, got you! I cursed you, and now you can’t move your feet!”

Cassiopeia glared. She was sure somewhere out there, there was an actual spell that could do that very thing (she silently vowed to herself to learn it immediately and then cast it on this rude girl). Annalise started dancing around, taunting her duelling partner, but Cassiopeia was beginning to see red. Who did Annalise think she was, to think she could use magic? She had no right! And almost without thinking, she raised her ‘wand’ and—

Annalise was propelled backwards. Only by a few steps, but the girl was clearly shocked, and quickly lost her footing. Not a second later, she was on the ground. Cassiopeia’s eyes went wide, her hand slightly shaking as she dropped the stick.

“This game is stupid,” She muttered, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked off, ignoring Annalise’s protests.

She lost control. What would her mother think?


“You cast on another girl?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” She curled into herself.

“I’m not angry at you, my dear. I’m here to help you. We will sit down and breathe when we get home.”

Cassiopeia could not tell her mother she did not like the breathing. She was trying, she really was.

 


 

Dear Rolf,

 I hope you are doing well. Being back in the Muggle world has been difficult for me. Have you been having troubles with your magic? My mother keeps telling me that as long as I remain calm, I will not have any ‘magical outbursts’, but it is really hard. I do not like meditating at all.

 Mother also said I cannot talk about magic or my new school around my dad or little sister. Something about Muggles not understanding, but Abagail will be a witch too, will she not? I told her it is annoying not having anyone (of my own age, of course) to talk to about Hogwarts, so she suggested I owl you. I was very confused by what an ‘owl’ was, but apparently that is how wizards send their post. Did you know that? I certainly did not. But according to her, this owl’s name is Canary (which is weird, but I could not exactly tell her she has gotten her animals mixed up. That is disrespectful.)

 Do you think you know which Hogwarts house you’re going to be placed in? My mother told me about them. She said she was in Gryffindor, but her friends were split between her house and Slytherin (sounds very snake-y, don’t you agree? She did not speak very positively about it). Personally I think Gryffindor is a bit of a weird house, I hope neither of us are in there. She said Ravenclaw was where a lot of the more academic-focused students went. I think she was trying to avoid calling them nerds, but I think there is a chance I could end up there, you agree? She said Hufflepuff was where ‘the rest go’, but  your dad in Hufflepuff, was he not? He turned out alright! But I have a feeling she will not be too happy if I ended up there, so I guess I will aim for Ravenclaw.

 I look forward to hearing back from you!

Sincerely,

Cassiopeia Melania Abbot

 P.S. Sorry for the formal language – Mother says now that I’m going to Hogwarts, I need to have ‘proper etiquette’. I’d like to see her try and enforce that one though.

 

Wednesday:

Annalise was not at school on Wednesday. The teacher mentioned something about a cold going around, but there was a weird look in her eye. And it was only the start of Autumn.

Cassiopeia approached her during free time, “Miss Jane, what actually happened to Annalise? She was alright yesterday.”

Miss Jane bit her lip, obviously unsure about whether she should tell this little girl about what happened. But Cassiopeia was a brilliant actor, and she knew her teacher would believe her concern was real (It was, wasn’t it?).

“Well, Anna had a bit of a fall yesterday, Cassie…opeia, and woke up this morning with her back a bit bruised and hurting, so her mother decided to keep her home for the day.”

Cassiopeia could feel the colour draining from her face. She’d done more than accidentally knock the girl over, she was hurt. “Oh… Could I go to the bathroom please?”

Miss Jane frowned at the randomness of the question, but still let the girl go.

As soon as she had shut the classroom door behind her, she sprinted for the gates of the school. She sat on the curb, watching the cars drive past. It was raining, and she could slowly feel the water soaking into her clothes. But that was ok. It camouflaged her tears. She pulled out her phone, for emergency purposes only, and clicked her mother’s number.

“Cassiopeia? Why are you calling me in the middle of the day? Has something happened?”

She tried to weight down the tremor in her voice, the wobble that gave away, “Can you come pick me up, mum? I don’t— I don’t want to be here anymore.”

 


 

Dear Cassiopeia, 

Thanks for your letter! It’s been really boring out here without your company. Mum keeps making me do chores as “punishment” for getting Aurora hurt, which we both know is absolute bollocks. But I guess I’m lucky that I’m not stuck in Muggle London. Sorry to hear that it’s going bad, by the way. It’s absolutely mental that your mother won’t even let you speak about magic, way to suck the joy out of it if you ask me! Canary is actually a very normal name for an owl, believe it or not. My dad has one called Owlexander. Get it? I didn’t until I was about eight.

I think Ravenclaw would be very nice, but Dad’s always talked about how brilliant Hufflepuff is (plus, the common room entrance is apparently right next to the kitchen, and I really like food). Gryffindor isn’t that bad though – Dumbledore is in Gryffindor, and he’s a really, really good wizard. My dad is friends with him, you know!

My dad has only now decided to tell me that we don’t get to take the Care of Magical Creatures class until our third year! That’s absolutely mental, is it not? But it’s fine, you’ll sneak down with me to see then creatures, right? We’ll just make sure we won’t get caught, I’m not sure if the professors would be too happy to see two first years down there. But let me know!

Rolf

P.S. My magic has been completely normal! Dad just says I shouldn’t go into the vivarium of the bigger creatures, just in case I get ‘too scared’ and accidentally do something. But who does he think I am?

 


 

Rolf,

Well I’m glad someone’s magic is cooperating. Mine knocked one of my friends over when I felt the slightest hint of irritation, and she was not at school today, because the bruising from the fall was hurting her too much! I left early. Rolf, my magic hurt someone. I feel terrible.

Sorry about the chores. How is Aurora doing though? Is her wing all healed? I am very sad I did not get to say goodbye to her. I wish we could have just stayed with you three, instead of meeting you at Diagon Alley—It feels like forever away! At least I would be able to talk about magic with you, but this feels medieval, using owls to communicate—and Owlexander is a brilliant name for an owl. I can’t wait to get to get my own animal. I think a cat, a Kneazle I guess, would make a great familiar, but I’m beginning to like the idea of an owl more and more. I would give it a good name though, something elegant, something fit for a Queen.

I guess it will suck to not be in the same House, but we will still talk, right? There’s no great rivalry between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff right? We will figure it out. And it is not that I do not like Dumbledore, but he seems like a bit of an overachiever, with all of his awards and titles—I mean, did you see my acceptance letter? What even is a ‘Supreme Mugwump’?

And of course I will go with you to see the creatures. If there is any subject that you will be top of class for, I guarantee it will be that one. And of course they will not catch us, because I will be the best witch in our grade, and we will be so invisible that they think they are the one breaking curfew (Is it weird to keep writing so formally when we are scheming how to break the rules?).

Well, write back soon. I am dreadfully lonely and I am not sure what to do with myself.

Sincerely,

Cassiopeia Melania Abbot

 

Thursday:

Cassiopeia did not go to school the next day, not that she was complaining. It gave her some time to spend with Abagail, who was beyond devastated to be losing her for the whole year.

“I’ll be back in the holidays, Abagail, and we’ll write to each other, at least every week.”

The small girl’s lip trembled, “But I see you every week! What if I forget what you look like?”

She turned to her sister, from where they both sat on the couch. For a seven year old, Abagail had always been very attached to those around her, all the more reason for Cassiopeia’s betrayal to hurt her, “I promise it won’t be forever. And who knows, maybe you’ll go there as well!”

“You think Foxcroft Academy will want me as well?” Right, Cassiopeia’s lie. No mentions of Hogwarts, her mother had been very insistent on that, so instead she had taken the fake school’s name from one of her old stories, and given it to her little sister. She told herself it wasn’t permanent, her mother couldn’t expect her to keep Hogwarts a secret forever. They had the same parents, the same amount of magical blood, was it not a certainty that Abagail would be joining her there in two years’ time?

But regardless, she had to listen to her mother. “Of course Foxcroft will want you! You’re brilliant, and talented, and funny, and super cute—” The little girl smiled, but Cassiopeia could tell it wasn’t real. “I’m sorry,” She leaned back against the couch, sinking into the cushions, “I don’t want to leave you, and I wish I could take you with me. I fear I might be very lonely at Ho—Foxcroft.”

“But if you’re going to be lonely, why are you going?”

Well, wasn’t that the question of the decade. Cassiopeia wasn’t sure how to answer. How do you explain to your little sister about your secret magical abilities which are making her hurt the people around her? What if her sister was next, and she tripped because of Cassiopeia, and fell and broken her leg? Cassiopeia would never forgive herself! It wasn’t safe for her to be around her sister, it wasn’t safe for her to be around anyone!

“I think it’s for the best, Abagail. I think me going there is for the best.”

 

Friday:

Cassiopeia wasn’t sure how she’d made it to Friday, but somehow she had. She returned to school for her last day, knowing she would be with Rolf in 24 hours, and she would be safe and unable to hurt anyone. No, wizards could defend themselves from her. She would fit in there.

Annalise was back at school as well. She had a slight limp, and wasn’t allowed to walk very much.

“Hiya, Cassiopeia!”

She froze. Of course, she had been avoiding the girl - Cassiopeia couldn’t even bring herself to look at her friend, but the confrontation was clearly inevitable. “Hi, Annalise…”

“Where were you yesterday? We missed you!”

“Oh,” Cassiopeia floundered, “I was… A bit sick, just a common cold, that’s all. What… What about you? You missed Wednesday.”

Annalise frowned, “I’m not too sure! I woke up, and my back really hurt. I guess I fell over harder when we were playing than I thought.”

Cassiopeia’s eyes widened, “Annalise, I’m so very sorry, I promise I really didn’t—”

“What? Why on earth would it be your fault? You were nowhere near me! It was the wind, no really! I felt it, and I saw it in the trees behind your head, a huge gust that just happened to make me lose balance.”

Cassiopeia’s brow furrowed, “Are—Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course! I’m not mad at you at all! But please, let’s change the topic! What are you doing this weekend? I’m having a party and I would love for you to be there—”

“I’m leaving,” She blurted.

Time seemed to slow down, almost as if it was ticking to a stop. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Cassiopeia bit the inside of her lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. “Well… My parents have decided to send me to a boarding school in Scottland next year. Tomorrow is my last day. My mother and I are leaving early to get me settled in.”

It wasn’t the full truth. Sure, Cassiopeia could last out the remaining week of the school term, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t. It was too painful, to walk around seeing the faces of Muggles who would never understand her, understand what she was. She’d begged and pleaded to her mother, until eventually Celeste had given in. She’d hoped they would return to stay with Rolf and his family, but they were going on a family vacation to Bulgaria before the school year started, and Diagon Alley would be the last time they saw each other before their trip. Instead, Cassiopeia and her mother would be staying in Diagon Alley, at a local Inn, at a place called The Three Broomsticks. It was the magic she had been waiting for.

“And you’re only telling us now?” Annalie’s astounded voice brought Cassiopeia back to reality, “You didn’t even sound like you were going to tell me at all! How was I – how was everyone – going to say goodbye to you?”

Cassiopeia only shrugged her shoulders, “I didn’t really think you would all miss me that much,” She mumbled, examining the scuff marks on her school shoes.

“Of course we’ll miss you” She exclaimed, “Your our friend!”

But Cassiopeia still couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with the girl—She was terrified that Annalise would realise at any moment that her bruises weren’t from an accident, and that they were Cassiopeia’s fault. Annalise wasn’t safe around her, none of them were.

 

That night, as the Abbot family was getting ready for bed, Cassiopeia couldn’t help but linger back in the living room with her mother. Celeste, who had been reading some new cookbook, immediately noticed her daughter’s presence, and beckoned her over to the couch.

“What’s the matter, my love?”

“I told a girl at school today that I was leaving,” she admitted.

Celeste watched her daughter closely, observing her, “What did she say?”

Cassiopeia frowned, “She was hurt. And not because I knocked her over with my magic the other day, she was hurt because I hadn’t told her.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell her? Did you tell your other friends?”

Cassiopeia shook her head, “I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t even planning on telling Annalise, but it just slipped out. She’s having a party this weekend, you see, and wanted to invite me.”

“So what did you tell her?”

“That I couldn’t, because you and I were leaving for Scottland.” Cassiopeia hesitated before continuing, in a smaller voice, “I didn’t think any of them would miss me, not after everything I’ve done to them.”

Celeste frowned, “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong to them! Your magical outburst was completely normal! It happens to all young Witches and Wizards before they’ve learnt to control their magic, and if it ever gets too bad, the Ministry of Magic has a special division ready to step in and help.”

Cassiopeia’s eyes widened, “Is that what they did for Annalise? Is that why she doesn’t think it was my fault?”

Celeste laughed, pulling her daughter in close. “No, they didn’t need to step in. And if anything, Cassiopeia, you should be immensely proud of yourself for only having had one magical outburst! I can tell you’re going to be an incredibly talented Witch my dear.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can see it in your eyes, but also in your soul. Your magic is going to be something this world has never seen before, and your name, Cassiopeia Melania, will leave a long-lasting legacy at Hogwarts, and far beyond.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure of it.”

 


 

Dear Cassiopeia,

This will probably be my last letter, since I’m seeing you on Saturday, but hopefully it reaches you before then! I asked my mother about those “magical outbursts” that you mentioned though, and she said they were normal occurrences in young wizards who haven’t had any training, or a wand to channel their magic through.

And speaking of them, I had one! The news arrived yesterday – The standard, Muggle news – and the front page talked about a snake that had just escaped from the zoo! A Boa Constrictor, bred in captivity there. It made me furious that those Muggles just think they can do whatever. Imagine if they knew about all the magical creatures of the Wizarding World? They would torture them for their feathers and fur, scales and horns – it would be a whole new market, a whole new zoo for Muggles to ogle at our animals—

Mum says I’m getting carried away. I may have set my hair on fire again. Who would have thought? At least it was only my hair this time though, last time, I was in the Diricawl Vivarium with my dad, and all their tails started burning (and Dad’s coat, but that was alright)! Dad can’t wait for me to get to Hogwarts now, I bet.

Aurora is doing well though. Dad said it looks like she’s really missing you. I think he’s just jealous that you could get her to sit still, and he can’t. And Owlexander is an alright name, but I really wanted them to name him Hoo-dini! Which, would have been more fitting, seeing as though he likes escaping so much. Mum wanted to call him Owlbert Einstein, after some Muggle who ‘invented’ Physics, but most of that is Hogwash in the Wizarding World, so Dad ruled it out pretty quickly. Hey, maybe you can name your “regal” owl Queen Elizabeak (Her Royal Fluffiness for short)!

And of course Dumbledore is an overachiever – He’s Dumbledore! And believe it or not, but ‘Supreme Mugwump’ means that he’s the elected chairman (and leader) of the International Confederation of Wizards, which is pretty much the highest office in the Wizarding World. So yeah, definitely an overachiever.

But glad to hear you’ll sneak out with me! That’ll show them!

Rolf

 


 

Cassiopeia didn’t write back, he wouldn’t get her letter, after all. But her mother was right, what happened with Annalise was completely normal. She was normal.