fourteen

THE NEXT MORNING, ARABELLA WOKE FEELING EVEN WORSE THAN THE NIGHT BEFORE. 

Not only had she lied repeatedly to her closest friends since her first year at Hogwarts - but she still didn't know what was going on between Theodore and Mattheo, and why they were talking about her last night. Her anxiety must've been palpable - Neville handed her a purple, gnarled root and claimed it was good for stress or an upset stomach. 

Arabella had both. 

Even throughout her Herbology exam - all she could focus on was the look on Theodore's face last night when he'd told her that she couldn't tell anyone.

She'd never seen him so serious before. Like there would be real consequences.

Serious consequences.

Arabella was sandwiched between Hermione and Luna Lovegood as Professor McGonagall set off on her Transfiguration lecture. Professor McGonagall's voice was, as always, precise and slightly shrill as she spoke at the head of the classroom. Draco was dozing off in the back corner of the classroom - Blaise was taking photos of Draco with his mouth half-open.

Arabella heard or noticed none of it.

"...and therefore, the distinction between Vanishing Spells..."

Hermione straightened instantly beside her, her hand already raised high in the air before McGonagall had fully finished asking the question. Arabella stared blankly at the blackboard, as elegant writing appeared in white streaks of chalk as Professor McGonagall waved her wand.

Can't tell anyone.

The words echoed in her mind again, louder this time, as if they themselves were trying to warn her.

She swallowed hard.

Arabella's stomach twisted.

Arabella.

She blinked.

"Arabella."

Hermione nudged her, harder this time. "Professor McGonagall asked you a question."

Arabella snapped upright, her eyes shooting towards the front of the classroom. Professor McGonagall was looking directly at her, one eyebrow raised in that particular way that meant her patience was wearing thin.

"Yes, Professor?"

"If you've completed your assigned reading... when was the incantation for turning inanimate objects to animate ones discovered?" McGonagall asked, hands folded neatly behind her back. 

Arabella's mind went completely, horrifyingly blank.

"The...1830s?" She tried weakly, vaguely remembering skipping over that passage before bed last night.

A pause.

McGonagall's eyebrow lifted higher. Arabella wanted to disappear into her seat.

"Five points to Gryffindor," McGonagall said briskly, already turning away. "Kindly pay attention, Miss Brooks."

The rest faded again.

Arabella sank slightly in her seat, heat creeping up her neck. Normally, she would care. A lot. She hated disappointing her professors, especially ones she respected deeply.

Today, it barely registered.

The rest of the class passed by in a blur, practicing incantations to no avail. Seamus had somehow managed to turn his Transfiguration textbook into a slimy, oversized newt, which sent most of the girls scattering across the classroom. 

Hermione looped an arm through Arabella's - bringing her in close to her side as the duo traveled through the crowded hallways - Ron and Harry trailing behind them as they spoke distractedly about their upcoming Quidditch game against Hufflepuff.

"- And Cormac said that Geoffrey Carmichael's elbow is all messed up from practice, so we might have a good chance-"

The quartet came to a slow stop as they came across a small gathering of murmuring students, loud voices rising from somewhere deeper within the crowd, sharp enough to cut through the usual hallway chatter. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked to a nearby group of Gryffindor fourth years. They simply shrugged in response, standing on their tiptoes to get a clearer view of the commotion. Hermione craned her neck slightly, trying to peer over the cluster of students. "What is it—"

"Move," Ron muttered, already attempting to wedge his way through the crowd with little regard for politeness. Harry and Arabella followed close behind, offering quick apologies as they slipped past irritated shoulders and elbows. Hermione was already walking away in the opposite direction of the commotion - either disinterested by what she saw, or afraid to get caught up in the mess.

Something cold settled low in Arabella's stomach.

Harry's grip found her forearm, pulling her in closer so they wouldn't get separated in the large crowd.

Reluctantly, Arabella let herself be pulled forward.

The trio pushed past walls of shoulders, robes and ties in house colors. Then the crowd shifted and she saw him.

He stood at the center—tall, dark-haired, his posture casual despite the growing crowd around him. His robes were perfectly immaculate, the green and silver of Slytherin sharp against the more muted tones of the corridor.

Cassian.

Even before seeing him, she'd known.

There was something wrong about the way people acted around him. Wary, anxious. A small group of older, male Slytherins lingered closest in the circle of students around him—Draco Malfoy among them, now very much awake, watching with narrowed eyes instead of his usual bored expression. Blaise Zabini stood just behind him. Lorenzo at his side. And Theodore. Standing stiffly at the head of it all, his arms crossed rigidly across his broad chest. His usual lazy smirk was replaced with a frown - subtle, but there.

And across from Cassian - Cormac McLaggen.

He wasn't lounging or smirking like he usually did.

He was rigid. Completely, unnaturally still.

Arabella's breath caught.

His voice was shaking, but loud enough to carry.

"You think you can just—just threaten people and get away with it?"

Cassian didn't answer right away.

"Say it again," Cassian said quietly.

Cormac hesitated. "I said—" he started again, louder this time.

He didn't finish.

Cassian moved.

It happened so fast Arabella didn't even register it at first—just the sudden crack of impact echoing against the stone walls.

Gasps exploded around her. A Gryffindor first-year screamed.

Cormac staggered sideways, slamming into the wall. Blood bloomed instantly at his nose and the corner of his mouth as he stumbled away from Cassian.

Arabella's stomach dropped. Ron moved to jump in and defend his friend - but Arabella held him back with a trembling hand.

Cassian didn't step back or run away from the scene.

He followed Cormac.

One hand shot out, gripping the front of Cormac's robes and pinning him against the wall like it was nothing. Cormac, who wasn't weak or small by any means, struggled against him, fingers clawing at Cassian's wrist. "Get—off—"

Arabella's heart slammed against her ribs.

"Cassian—" Theodore's voice cut in, sharper than she'd ever heard it.

Cassian didn't even look at him.

Draco shifted beside Blaise, his expression tense now, eyes flicking between Theodore and Cassian.

A beat.

Cassian's grip tightened instead.

Cormac choked, his face turning a deep shade of red that made Arabella feel physically ill.

Something snapped into place inside Arabella.

"Stop it!"

The words tore out of her before she could think.

Everyone froze. Ron partially stepped in front of her, trying to shield her. But Cassian's head was already turned. His eyes landed on her.

There was something wrong in his gaze. Controlled. Deliberate.

His eyes flicked over her face. "Let him go." Arabella doubled down as she spoke again, her voice steadier now despite the way her hands were shaking at her sides. Harry took a step closer to her.

A long pause.

Then Cassian released him.

Cormac collapsed to the floor, gasping, clutching his throat as he slid down the wall. A few of his so-called "friends" rushed forward immediately, dragging him away to the infirmary.

Cassian straightened slowly, turning away like nothing had happened. Like Cormac didn't have a blossoming black eye immediately after impact.

But Arabella stood frozen.

Her eyes drifted to Theodore.

He was already looking at her.

Her heart stuttered. For a second, neither of them moved.

And then, almost imperceptibly—

He shook his head. 

Cassian left the hallway just as prefects began to file in - immediately clearing the halls and interrogating students that were too slow to escape.

Ron and Harry pulled Arabella away, tension in their shoulders.

They didn't stop until they reached an empty stretch of hallway near the Charms corridor. Ron finally let go of her arm, running a hand through his messy auburn hair.

"Did you see him? He was actually going to kill him!"

Harry didn't answer, which was answer enough.

Arabella leaned back against the cold stone wall, her fingers curling into the fabric of her robes. She could feel her pulse ringing throughout her entire body.

"McLaggen isn't gonna shut up about the bloody git once he can talk again." Ron mumbled, Harry nodding in agreement.

"I need to go to the library," Arabella said abruptly, pushing off the wall.

"Now?" Harry asked. "After that?"

"Yes. Now."

She didn't wait for them to argue or follow.

She turned and walked away.

"She's spending too much time with Hermione." Ron grumbled to Harry as she left, rubbing a hand over his face.

-

The library was quieter than usual at this hour. A few scattered students sat at long wooden tables, whispering over parchment and books.

Arabella headed straight for the back. To the restricted section.

Her steps slowed as she approached the rope barrier.

Can't tell anyone.

Theodore's words echoed again in her mind.

Arabella's jaw tightened.

"Fine," she whispered under her breath. "I won't."

But that didn't mean she couldn't find out herself.