Black Blood

017 - Blame Game

Hogsmeade, whilst no Black château, was a rather cozy little village. She'd not visited it during the previous occasion, as it meant Hogwarts would be practically abandoned during her cowardly, humiliated stint, and that had suited her need for solitude just fine.

But now that she had gone, the girl had found herself rather pleased with the wizarding village and everything contained within. She'd visited many a shop, browsing their wares, which hadn't been up to her standards, and thus she hadn't bought a thing, but she'd still found enjoyment within the act, if only because it was a pleasant change from her norm.

There was one aspect that she hadn't enjoyed about her little trip, however, and it involved the freezing temperature of the snow-laden environment. Cassiopeia preferred warmth above all, and whilst she could appreciate how pretty the snow-covered landscape appeared to be, she didn't particularly care to do so from within its frosty, frozen folds, much preferring a window or a picture book to indulge her winter sightseeing.

'Truly, how loathsome this feels,' she mused, blowing a steamy puff of air from between her pretty pink lips as her body shivered in discomfort.

A shadow suddenly crossed her path, and she glanced up and about, ensuring that the temperature was brought on by the chilly weather instead of some demonic beast she cared not to meet. Finding no evidence of a rogue dementor, she continued her journey uphill and towards the wonderful warmth of Hogwarts, passing the Shrieking Shack as she did, a miserable, apparently haunted spot she had no interest, none whatsoever, in venturing towards.

Before the dreadfully run-down abode was beyond her sight, however, something caught her delicate ears, and she shivered as she glanced in the shack's direction, as it sounded distinctly like someone had been shrieking.

"...friend!" a voice seemed to yell, which caused Cassiopeia's eyes to briefly widen and glance to the abode's immediate left, suddenly sure that someone, or something, had, in fact, spoken, but it hadn't quite come from the apparently haunted shack.

'Don't,' she silently warned herself, yet her feet began to move using their own will, and bypassing the creepy place, she ventured past two large trees, only to find three students in an opening situated somewhat behind the Shrieking Shack's crumbling walls. 'Is that...?'

Before the thought had even finished, she confirmed with her perfect, keen sight who the three happened to be, but it didn't explain what they were doing or why one had screamed.

"I hope he does!" Potter suddenly yelled, his loud, angry voice carrying clear to her silent, watching form, only for his eyes to lose focus and for him to adopt a rather ill-looking sneer. "Because if he does, I'll kill him!"

'What does Potter think he's saying?!' she silently wondered, feeling alarm and dread crawl through her veins as she became aware that he was imagining some poor soul's final moments.

Granger, who was kneeling beside his rock-seated form, said something in reply that Cassiopeia couldn't quite catch, and Potter sneered at the muggleborn, something that frightened the pureblooded girl, as it seemed so out of character for the scarred boy.

"Mate..." Weasley said, his voice barely heard by Cassiopeia, but the redhead made no move to approach his deranged friend, something Cassiopeia didn't blame him for.

'He's certainly smarter than he appears,' she ruefully thought in an attempt to ignore Potter's frightening form.

Suddenly, the Boy-Who-Lived stood, and Cassiopeia gasped as she sidestepped behind one of the large trees she stood beside, not at all interested in being seen by the crazed boy, but it wasn't meant to be.

"Who's there?!" he loudly, angrily shouted, likely having caught her quick, sudden movement.

'Oh, Merlin!' she silently thought, feeling her heart thump rapidly within her terrified chest.