The New Scar

Chapter Seven

The pressure was on for the longest time. I felt like the weight of everything was on me. It had been a week since I had sent Ann the Owl-Post for the much-needed ingredient, and there was still no Arella. Which, for yours truly, was not very good news. I needed that Sleeping Draft more than ever now. My dreams (more like nightmares) were getting worse. Every day I woke with the aftermath of my dream ringing in my ears and the violent images in my eyes. Whispers. Shouts. Screams...bloodshed. I always saw Harry talking with Sirius about what was going on with Ron, and himself. I wished desperately that I could do the same. There was no one at Hogwarts to confide in. Even the miraculous Gryffindor Trio wouldn't understand what I felt I was going through.

The Slytherins were showing no mercy towards Gryffindor. Crudely carved pictures of scars were engraved in the wooden tables in classrooms as well as the Great Hall. Dumbledore knew about it of course, mainly because Filch was throwing a fit about the harm done to school property. Every time I saw a small scar, I felt a huge twang of guilt in my stomach. If I hadn't come...I kept thinking bitterly, none of this would be happening. Harry felt the hit of the Slytherins too. But both of us were too absorbed in what was around us to talk about what was going on in our own lives.

Ron was getting progressively worse as the days went by. I prayed that the blood would come soon. I looked at the sky day and night trying to find a small white spot, which would be Arella. Some nights I stayed up so late that I began to hallucinate that I did see her. But fell asleep doing so.

Hermione, Harry and I decided to get a jump-start on collecting the other ingredients. Even though there were few, it was hard to find them all in the time given. The Doxys were the hardest to get what we needed from. We'll never forget why they're also called the "biting fairies." Most of our after school hours were spent behind Hagrid's hut. He paid us no attention, (we told him it was a Potions project), but he did warn us not to go far in. "With You-Know-Who out there somewhere, can't be too careful."

The Doxys flew around and mercilessly flew at us. Back in the common room after Doxy-hunting, Harry dipped his hands in a bucket of warm water. "So how many'd you get Hermione?"

Hermione sighed and pulled out four Doxy wings. "I didn't get bit, but they just wouldn't leave me alone. What about you?" she asked, implying me.

I reached for my skirt pocket and revealed two Doxy wings. "One measly pair. You'd think that we could have gotten more after being there for over an hour." I looked gloomily at Harry. "How 'bout you?" He reached inside his shirt pocket and came out with 6 wings, 3 pairs. "I did good, but I didn't get enough."

Hermione slumped back in her chair, "Well, none of us got enough. I suggest we go to bed. It's 11:00 already. It's very likely, Harry, that with Ron being sick, your grades have been slipping."

He shot her a friendly glare. "Yes ma'am." We all retired up to our dormitories for the night. And as soon as each of us hit the bed (well me at least I'm sure) we were asleep.

<*>

The whispers carried from my dreams to the Great Hall. Eye contact was seriously avoided. Most conversation carried on as usual, well, when I passed someone. It could have been that they were saying something about my mark or Harry's mark then when we passed, they started talking about the opposite gender that they were attracted to, or complaining about a late assignment.

I took my seat across from Fred and stared at my plate. I felt hot. I wasn't embarrassed, but I felt my face turning red, possibly with slight anger.

Fred stopped shoveling food down his mouth to look at me. "You alright Cassie?"

I looked up, "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look like yourself," he eyed me carefully.

I retorted, "Well who else am I going to look like?" I know. It was not a very good thing to say, but he backed off and continued to eat. My eyes went back down to my empty plate.

I reached inside my bag at my feet, trying not to draw attention to myself, and I felt for the small piece of parchment that held the ingredients for Ron. I touched it and felt around the corners. It was an old piece of paper, but as I moved my index finger around one side, I felt it slice through my skin. I recoiled from it quickly and brought my hand out of the bag and put it on my lap. I was bleeding quickly. I wiped the blood on my skirt and thought nothing of it.

Hermione nudged me, "C'mon. Time to get to class."

I nodded and got up without saying a word. But Hermione, being the nosy sort, stopped once we were outside the Great Hall. "What'd you do to your finger?"

Bringing it up to my eye-level, I tried to look surprised. "Hmm. Must have cut it on a knife or something." She stared at me, almost not believing what I said. Not wanting to explain what had compelled me to take the Cruciatus Potion Cure from the common room I said, "Well come on Hermione. Sprout doesn't like it when we're late." I chuckled and walked on out the door.

<*>

All through Herbology, Charms and Transfiguration, I couldn't stop thinking about what was so innocently shown as a note of some sort in my bag and how it had gotten there. Early that morning, I found that I couldn't get back to sleep. So, I got dressed, went downstairs, sat in front of the fire, and waited for more light to come into the sky. As I stared into the flames, something fell to the floor. I looked at it and saw that it was, indeed, the piece of paper that was concealed in my bag now. I don't know why I did it. I don't really even remember thinking about it. I grabbed it and dropped it lightly onto my schoolbooks just before Harry came down.

During lunch, I found that I was hungrier than I had been that morning and began to gore myself, more out of nervousness than hunger. George patted me on the back. "There you go. We can't have a skinny keeper when we go against Hufflepuff next week now can we? They won't have a chance without Diggory!" As soon as he mentioned Cedric, the whole room, especially the Hufflepuff table got quieter, though conversation was still going. George turned red and Fred pulled him down. "Nice going. Now they'll be pissed enough at us to be aggressive enough to win!" He sighed, frustrated.

I set down my fork with a clatter, wiped my mouth and headed towards the bathroom to throw up. I had never, in all my life, eaten so much so fast.

But on my way, I brushed into Malfoy who was coming into the Great Hall. No...no "brushed" is a nice way of saying it. He didn't move around me, but he plowed into me. My left side was thrown back and my bag swung me around along with its weight. He turned his left side around to face me with his ever so popular sneer. "Watch it Yank."

I didn't answer, because I didn't need to argue with him at the moment. So I quickly turned on my heel and ran down the hall to the girls' toilet.

As I got rid of my lunch in a not so pleasant way, I thought about what Malfoy must have thought of me when I just ran away from him. I hoped that he didn't think that I was weak. That was the last thing that Gryffindor needed: Slytherins thinking that the new Gryffindor couldn't stay for a fight. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. All that came off was perspiration from above my lips and off my nose.

I was so breathless that I sat in the stall with my back against one side that partitioned from the other stall and my legs bent. I felt considerably lighter. Well, that's what you get for wolfing down lunch after not eating in the morning.

Aww, shut up, I replied. The door to the bathroom banged open and someone walked in. But from looking under the stall door, I realized that it wasn't a girl. "Cassie?" It was Harry's voice. "What happened? Are you ok?"

Quickly, I pulled down my skirt and sat on the toilet. He nearly burst through the door (I hadn't the mind to lock it since my food was coming up so quickly) but I brought my foot up to slam it shut. "Jesus Harry! A girl can't even go to the bathroom in peace!"

He released pressure on the door entirely. "Well, you got up so fast, then I saw you run into Malfoy, so..."

"So you followed me into a girl's bathroom. Brilliant Harry."

I could tell from his voice that he was blushing, "I just wanted to help you out, you know."

My foot was still holding the door closed. "Well if I could just finish relieving myself while you wait outside, you can help me all you want."

Harry didn't run, but he quickly retreated out of the bathroom. I brought my leg down and held my forehead in my hands as I heaved a great, relieved sigh. My head was cold and sweaty and I was shaking slightly.

In walking out of the stall I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I hadn't really seen myself in weeks. I saw that my hair had grown longer; my height was taller than I had been when I had gotten to Hogwarts. There was something about my face...something different that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I knew that I looked tired. I felt tired, but that wasn't it. I was worried; I knew that it showed on my face at all times. But there was something else. I walked closer to the mirror above the sink. I placed my hands on the sink and leaned in closer. Behind my glasses, I realized that my eyes shown something that was a completely new thing for me. Fear. What else could it have been? My eyes were deep pools of it. I had been shivering before, but now I was shaking. A feeling took out my knees and I fell to the floor, kneeling. I heard the voice in back of my head creep up to the front, getting louder and louder. I couldn't stop it. Whisper. You'll be easy enough. A girl nonetheless. A cold voice came into thought.

I couldn't get Potter's little boy, but what could you do? The voice was weakened, but it scared me enough to make me shake even harder. It felt like my body was going into convulsions. I closed my eyes in an attempt to stop everything, but a humungous flash of green light played over on my eyelids. A force unseen pushed me to my back. I lay, on the floor of the bathroom, sweating, breathless, and my eyes open.

I quickly got up, wiped my brow on my right sleeve. But in doing that, I felt like I scraped a knife over my scar. I pulled up my sleeve. There it was, staring back at me again like it had for nearly 15 years. It stung, but not as bad as it had for many nights before.

Having learned to bare the pain without showing it, I picked up my bag and walked out of the bathroom with too much on my mind to notice Harry waiting by the door. He trotted to keep up with me as I walked to Arithmancy.

"Hey, you ok?"

I stared ahead looking at my destination, the door of the Arithmancy classroom, but not really seeing it. "Yeah. I'm fine, why?"

He shrugged. "You seem kind of distant."

"I just ate too much too fast Harry. Nothing to worry about. If anything, I'd be worried about you. You were a little eager to get into that stall."

He blushed again and a small, embarrassed grin came over his face. "Like I said, I was seeing what was wrong with you. Malfoy isn't a great character to run into a lot of the time. I know that from personal experience."

We met Hermione at the door, I bid good-bye to Harry, and we walked into the classroom.

<*>

Care of Magical Creatures class was better than the rest of the day had been. We were split into pairs and assigned a Porlock. Harry paired with Seamus and Hermione and I got together. The Porlock that the boys had seemed to dislike Harry, but took an adorable liking to Seamus. When Seamus went off into the back to have a pee, the little thing followed him. Then we'd hear a scream and Seamus would run around the other side of Hagrid's hut, pulling his pants up, the Porlock scampering after him. Hagrid was befuddled at this since Porlocks often mistrust humans more than anything.

A lot of groups seemed to have an opposite relationship and ran after their "pets." While Hermione and I were searching for ours, Harry came up to us.

"Hey," I said straightening from looking in the brush, "How can I help you?"

"After Potions, we're going to see Ron. I heard Dumbledore saying that he was to be sent out of the Hospital Wing. He's supposedly feeling better."

Hermione came up behind him. "Well no wonder he'd want to get Ron out of there. He's missed more school in one year than you have in four!"

Harry cynically smiled at her, "Well it certainly wasn't my fault that happened. I..."

I cleared my throat. "So anyway, Ron's coming back tonight?"

"So far as I know." Harry answered. He was about to go on, but Seamus came running to us.

"You three have got to hide me! That little devil won't leave me alone!"

I looked him over. He was covered in leaves and incredibly dirty. I also noticed something else. "Looks like your barn door is open there partner."

He looked confused, "Huh?"

I tried again, "XYZ?"

No such luck, "What are you talking about?"

Harry laughed, "Oh for God's sake Seamus zip your pants up!"

He looked down and blushed. Fumbling for the zipper, he explained, "Well, it's not easy to remember one's pants when you're running from..." We heard a "thump" sound and Seamus seemed to be pushed forward. He stopped and closed his eyes, annoyed. He pointed down his left leg, "...that."

The Porlock had run up to him and wrapped it's limbs around his leg. He looked at all of us with huge eyes full of fear.

"Little help Harry?" Seamus asked.

Harry bent down. As he did the creature tightened his grip around Seamus's leg. He managed to rip it off. The Porlock flailed and struggled in Harry's arms and made small squeaking sounds, reaching for Seamus.

Seamus sighed, "And I thought I'd never forgive Hagrid for the Skrewts. Now this."

<*>

At dinner, Fred and George left earlier than dessert to go to the common room. I was tingling with anticipation to go and see Ron, but Fred and George sat me back down.

"You don't eat, we don't have a keeper." And they left it at that.

So, regardless of the incident in the bathroom, I ate quickly, and got up from the table, with Harry and Hermione close behind.

As soon as we were out of the teacher's eyesight, we sprinted up the staircases and through the corridors. I stopped at the Fat Lady's portrait, said the password and all three of us hustled inside.

There he was. Sitting in an armchair by the fire was Ron Weasley just as he had looked before he was attacked. Though, I thought, he looks...different. His eyes were much more focused, and by the way his face was set, he looked like something was eating away at his head...something other than the Cruciatus Potion.

Hermione brushed in front of me. "Ron?" she said quietly.

He snapped out of his trance and as soon as he realized that we were there, he grinned from ear to ear. "Hey," he said, seemingly calm, but the three of us could tell he was as happy as we were.

After that it was a much anticipated and very happy reunion, mostly for the three others. I was happy that Ron was out of the Hospital and back with us. But I still stood back and watched these three in their actions: Hermione was absolutely glowing, Harry was nearly bouncing up and down with happiness, and Ron was taking in all the attention. As I stood, partially hidden in the shadows, smiling at either one when they looked at me, I began to wonder if it had always been this happy here without the addition of me. Ever since I moved in with Ann and John, I had felt like an attachment; like a leech that just didn't let go and needed what they had. Even at Shawmain I was always singled out. I was no different from anyone else, because there my scar didn't mean diddlysquat. But now, at Hogwarts, I felt that I had disturbed the peace. I had entered the force field of theirs and screwed everything up. Protection was probably a bigger issue now. If that other girl was still here...

Reality interrupted me once again, "So Cassie," Ron said. "How is..." he lowered his voice, "...everything?"

At first I didn't realize what he was talking about, but then I remembered. "Oh! It's fine. We're still working on some of the stuff, but it's-it's coming along." My voice cracked at the double "it's" and I stuttered in horrible and noticeable nervousness.

Ron looked at me skeptically, seeing that I was being as evasive as I could be. But thanks to Harry, the conversation became light again.

<*>

Later that evening as Hermione was getting into bed, I called to her from mine. "Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Can I talk to you?"

Her head came from her curtains and looked at me strangely. "What's wrong?"

I made room for her next to me and she got out of her four-poster and sat down.

"You know that girl?" I began. "That other chick that was here before me?"

"Parvati," she helped me along.

"Yeah her. Was she...well...was she really...kind of...?"

Hermione could tell that I was having trouble, but, again, she helped me along, "Popular? Happy?"

"That's the one! Happy. She didn't really disturb the peace or anything did she?"

Hermione snorted with laughter, "She was just ridiculously annoying at times. Why do you ask?"

I squirmed in my covers with that twitchy energy people get when they're nervous. "It's only this one thing. Just this one thing that I feel has screwed up everyone else's life in this school. I mean, hell if I know what it is. I was just wondering if...when Parvati was here that is...everything was a lot more...well, 'better' is the word I guess."

"Better?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, and then avoided my eyes. I wondered what there was to think about. I interrupted her train of thought.

"Were things here different than they are now?"

"Yes," she said it too soon. So she always knew, but never told. It had always been on the tip of her tongue and at the front of her mind, but she never brought it up. Though she may have been saving me more grief than I had already had, but I mean, come on! If someone comes in and fucks everyone's lives up, they should probably be told.

As soon as she spoke, she realized that it had been wrong to speak so quickly and started talking, "Not in a bad way...really. It's just that, well Parvati wasn't necessarily an important part in many lives except for hers. You have a bit more of an impact with the rest of us. And there are only a few reasons why." Her eyes darted from the American flag tied to my bedpost to the scar on my arm.

We sat in silence for a while, and then she squeezed my shoulder in a friendly fashion and went of to bed.

I turned over and dozed off into a swirl of fear, homesickness, hate and horror.