Harry Potter - OC Black x OC Potter
Cassiopeia Alhena Black hated a lot of things. Her parents, custard cream tarts and Nico James Potter. But while the Potter twins are thrown into battles with dragons, mermaids and a maze, Cassiopeia starts to re...
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{13th of October,1994}
When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.
"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Granger abruptly and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised.
"It's because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792 when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage," Cassiopeia added
Hermoine noticed them all looking at them and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."
"What are you on about?" said Little potter, though Cassiopeia thought she knew what was coming.
"House-elves!" said Granger, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"
"Oh for goodness sake! Have you ever spoken to a house-elf to get their input?" Cassiopeia asked.
She shook her head and applied herself to her scrambled eggs. Her lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Granger's determination to pursue justice for house-elves. She had been badgering Cassioepiea ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.
"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?" she kept saying fiercely.
Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop her from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke.
Cassiopeia now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Granger.
"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"
"No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to —"
"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world —"
"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Granger began hotly,
"How do you know that if you've never met one" Cassiopeia asked but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls.
There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, the students hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.
The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.
"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair and for my sake, Cassiopeia, don't do any nonsensical or stupid practical stunts of yours"
"No promises Minnie" Cassiopeia replied with a smirk
Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.
"Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front . . . no pushing. . . ."
They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.
"Nearly six," said Nico, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"
"I doubt it," said Hermione.
"How, then? Broomsticks?" Nathaniel suggested, looking up at the starry sky.
"I don't think so . . . not from that far away. . . ."
"A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate — maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"
"The BEAUXBATONS will come in a carriage pulled by flying horses and DURMSTRANG will arrive in a large ship." Cassiopeia cut in.
"That's stupid, even for you," a fifth-year said cockily.
"Oh yeah, 27 gallons I'm right?" She said, putting her hand forward. The fifth-year shook her hand while his classmates looked at him like he had grown three heads.
Before anyone could reply, Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers —
"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.
"There!" yelled a sixth -year, pointing over the forest.
Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.
"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.
"Don't be stupid . . . it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.
Dennis's guess was closer. . . . As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder- blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.
