CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE;

LIONS VERSUS SNAKES

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Bloody... hell."

   "You can say that again," said Harry, staring incredulously at the Great Hall, barely able to take it in. Red and gold streamers hung from the magical ceiling; confetti cannons shot out red and gold confetti every two minutes; a poster hung at the very front of the Hall, from above one end of the teachers' table to the other that read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CASSIE!" in alternating colors.

   "Bloody hell," Ron repeated, still gazing with a slack jaw at the decorations surrounding the room.

   "It's only a figure of speech, Ron," Harry muttered, taking a few tentative steps into the Hall. "She's going to hate it."

   "Oh, no doubt," said Hermione, biting her lip anxiously. "Maybe we can jinx them to read something else? Better yet, take them down altogether?"

   "No can do," said Ginny, walking in, her arm looped with Luna's. "He charmed them so they'll stay up until midnight. Knew she would try to take them down, so he took extra precautions."

   "Under different circumstances, I would say that that was quite clever," said Hermione. She frowned. "But Cassie's already distressed enough after what Malfoy said."

   "I can't imagine she's going to take this very well," Ginny said with a wistful gaze, her eyes moving around to follow the dancing house-elves drawn into the posters.

"Oh, she's not, trust me."

The five of them turned to face Cassie, who had stalked over looking extremely uncomfortable. She crossed her arms across her chest subconsciously, glancing around at the frenzy, her lips tightly pursed together. She spun to see her friends watching her closely and pitifully, as if she were a delicate flower that was on the brink of wilting. Rage rolled through her veins, but she only drew in a deep breath and said, "Which one of you is behind this?"

The five of them shared an apprehensive look. Hermione winced. Cassie raised an eyebrow, putting her hands on her hips. "You expect me to believe that it wasn't one of you?"

"Well, it wasn't," said Ron reproachfully, his brown eyes sad. Cassie's expression of skepticism melted to that of dubiety, then to realization as Ron explained further. "Atticus put a charm on the Great Hall to magically hang up decorations every year on November twenty-third. He.." Ron furrowed his brow and turned to Ginny. "What'd he say?"

"He said that birthdays deserve to be celebrated," she supplied, her words disquieted and gentle, completely unlike the real Ginny. "They won't go away until midnight, Cassie. We tried getting them down, but Atticus must have been a lot better at Permanent Sticking Hexes than we expected, because they're not coming off."

"It's fine," she said, pushing past her friends to take a seat at the Gryffindor table and reaching for the orange juice. "A reminder of my half-dead cousin, right?" After a second, she dropped the lackadaisical act and turned to the others, her face void of its guarded expression and replaced with that of authenticity and genuine sadness. "The best birthday gift you lot can give me is acting like today's only a regular day."

A cannon exploded and glittered red and gold confetti onto her oatmeal. She winced. "As regular as you can make it, at least."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Within an hour, the entire school had arrived to the Great Hall under the impression that Gryffindor had already won the House Cup despite the fact that the year wasn't even over yet. After they had taken in the true implications of the decor, Cassie was flooded with returns of "Happy birthday!" and "I'm so sorry I forgot!" as if they'd known in the first place.

   The only prospect that brought up Cassie's drastically dull mood of the day was the thought of their upcoming Quidditch match. Well, it brightened her mood for about a half a second, before she realized that Ron hadn't improved in his Keeping abilities and Katie was still in the hospital wing after being cursed. Dean Thomas had stepped in to be her replacement, but still, he'd never so much as flown round the pitch before that day.

   Their post-breakfast practice could have admittedly gone much worse than it did; Ron managed to only strike Delmelza Robins in the nose once, and she was fine after a quick pop-in to see Madam Pomfrey. Cassie, luckily, did not become the next victime whilst Delmelza was healing in the hospital wing – though she did tumble off her broom at the sight of Ron actually saving a Quaffle she deliberately sent too far to the side.

   On the bright side, when they returned to the Great Hall for lunch, Cassie was near delighted to find that the tables had now all been decorated with their House colors and someone had somehow managed to transfigure the poster at the front of the Hall to read "CHAID B PRAY SEYSPID!" which, if Cassie had to guess, was the best they could get out of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CASSIE!"

"How are all of you feeling?" Hermione asked tentatively, her eyes on Ron, who was in an unspeakably horrible mood that, in turn, caused the rest of the Gryffindors to walk on eggshells around him.

"Fine," Harry replied, holding out a glass of juice to Ron. "Here you go, Ron. Drink up."

"Don't drink that!"

Harry, Ron, and Cassie looked to Hermione in alarm. She was glaring at the glass in Ron's hand cynically, before switching her stare to Harry. "You just put something in that drink!"

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you!" said Hermione. "You just spilled something into Ron's drink– You've got the bottle in your hand now!"

Cassie's gaze switched to Harry, who was hastily – but obviously purposefully making a show of – putting a clear vial back into his pocket. Her lips parted in a silent gasp. "Is that the–"

"It is!" hissed Hermione, scandalized. "Ron, don't drink it!"

"Stop bossing me around, Hermione," said Ron, before guzzling the entire drink down in one swig. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve before exhaling in satisfaction. Ron sent Hermione one more gratified look before standing and striding out of the Great Hall with purpose – he held his shoulders back and chin up. Cassie stared after him, her jaw slack; it was like watching a completely different person.

"You should be expelled for that!" Hermione was saying when Cassie turned back around. "I'd never have believed it of you, Harry! Maybe Cassie, but–"

"Hey!" said Cassie, offended and slightly bemused.

"But never you!" Hermione finished furiously.

Harry leaned in, a brow cocked, and muttered, "Confunded anyone lately, Hermione?"

   A few minutes later, Cassie descended to the Quidditch pitch with Harry at her side, both antsy with anticipation of the match. Had Harry really slipped Ron the Felix Felicis, they should be in good spirits, right? But if Harry was still anxious for the outcome of the match, Cassie knew he was up to something. She side-eyed him as they walked.

"Lovely weather for the match, right, Harry?" she said loudly in an attempt to catch Ron's attention from ahead of them. "I guess you could say we've lucked out."

"Slytherin Chaser Vaisey? He got a Bludger in the head, and he's too sore to play," said Ginny smugly. "Even better, Malfoy's gone off sick too!"

"Fishy, isn't it?" Harry muttered to Ron and Cassie as they pulled on their protective gear and polished off their brooms. "Malfoy not playing?"

"Lucky, I call it," said Ron, looking more animated and in higher spirits than ever. "And Vaisey's off too, he's their best scorer, I didn't fancy – hey!" He froze suddenly, halfway through pulling on his gloves. He stared at Harry.

"What?"

"I.. you.." Ron dropped his voice. He looked both scared and invigorated, his mouth wide open. "My drink.. my juice...you didn't..?"

Harry said nothing, but raised his eyebrows, looking smugly pleased. Cassie scoffed lightly and shoved his shoulder. He laughed and stumbled out onto the pitch; Cassie, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of their team on his heels. The captains of both red and green teams met in the middle of the pitch, but Cassie wasn't paying attention to them. Her grey eyes scanned the stands, her lips slightly parted in awe. Every year, Gryffindor and Slytherin faced off in arguably the most important match of term, and every year, Cassie was completely taken aback by the turnout of the spectators. Seas of red and green fabrics enveloped the stands and live portraits of a lion and a snake faced off underneath the teachers' stand. Luna's lion hat could be heard roaring over the crowd, and Cassie's heart gave a great swell.

She'd witnessed the Gryffindor versus Slytherin games. Who hadn't? But she'd never played in them, and suddenly, staring at the crowd, she was beyond nervous.

Harry returned from his meeting with the captain for Slytherin, frowning at her change of demeanor. He ducked over to her and caught her attention. "You got this," he whispered, nudging her in the elbow. "You're not gonna let yourself lose, are you?"

Despite her nerves, she let out a soft chuckle. "You know me too well, Potter," she decided, swinging one of her legs over her broom and shaking her head.

"Not well enough," he muttered, taking off just after her and soaring into the sky.

   The game started better than Cassie could admit she thought it would have. Though she didn't watch every play with her own eyes, she trusted the new commentator to keep her up to date. She flew through the pitch with impressive speed, only gaining momentum as she managed to catch the Quaffle and rush through the air to Slytherin's side.

   She took messy aim and threw the Quaffle just before ducking out of the way of a Bludger – she didn't see whether the Quaffle made it through the goal, but judging by the roar of the crowd, she'd managed to score Gryffindor ten more points, bringing the score up seventy-to-zero. Ginny scored four of the Gryffindor's goals, Delmelza got one, and Cassie gained twenty points with two more Quaffles through hoops.

   Just as she made a dive to catch a falling Quaffle, two blurs shot right in front of where she directed the tip of her broom to. She pulled back instantly, but stopped – along with the rest of the players, green and red alike – and kept her eyes on the two Seekers. Slytherin managed to make it to the gold blur first. He reached out, but Harry shouted something to him; the Snitch broke from his grip and straight into Harry's awaiting palm.

   Cassie, accompanied by nearly the entire contents of the stands, let out a shriek, throwing her fists into the air and cheering for her friend. She lowered herself to the ground and rushed through the crowd of red and gold supporters, eyes for nobody except the boy with messy black hair who held a golden Snitch in his hand. Their gazes met and Cassie broke into a lopsided grin before catapulting herself into him. Her arms wound around his neck and she let out a laugh, burying her head into his shoulder. "You did it!" she burst out. "Brilliant, Harry!"

Cassie pulled away and moved to give Ron the same hug. She laughed into his chest and thumped him appreciatively on the shoulder. "I knew you could do it, Ron!"

   Ron returned his enthusiasm later, at the celebratory party held in the Gryffindor common room, though not to Cassie herself. She ogled at the redhead as he.. what, was he eating Lavender Brown's face? Cassie winced and shuddered, silently making a vow to never kiss any of the Weasleys if they had all inherited the same kissing genetic.

    She was handed a firewhiskey by one of the seventh years, and after trying to refuse the bottle multiple times (the seventh year was much too pissed to even understand she was still speaking to him), she accepted the bottle and took a heavy swig from the lip of it. It burned going down, but after a raw cough, settled into her stomach and pooled tingly warmth around her entire body. She shoved her way through the crowd and settled herself in the portrait hole tunnel, sitting on the floor and occasionally taking sips from the mouth of her firewhiskey.

   Cassie vaguely remembered her father telling her something along the lines of how firewhiskey was the best alcoholic drink known to Wizarding man (before swiftly reminding her not to drink before she was of legal age). She chuckled softly to herself at the thought before downing another fiery sip. She decided firewhiskey was definitely the right name for this horrid drink, as it quite literally burned her throat raw as it trickled down into the rapidly growing warmth in her stomach.

   "Happy birthday, by the way."

She twisted her head to see Harry standing at the end of the tunnel. He sported a red kiss mark on his cheek and had a matching gold streamer hung over his neck. That, along with his Quidditch sweater and trousers, he looked like the absolute poster boy of Gryffindor House. Cassie simpered, tilting her head to the side and gesturing to the space on her own cheek. "Care to explain?"

Harry touched his fingers to the red mark and checked them; he winced, then rubbed at it with the back of his sleeve. "Romilda Vane got me," he said sourly, scrubbing at the mark, which only smudged further across his face. Cassie chuckled and rolled her eyes. Clearly, Harry had never dealt with lipstick before. She told him so.

"It's not my fault, I've never been kissed on the cheek before," he grumbled as she stood and walked over to place a steadying hand on his shoulder, using the other to scrub gently yet firmly at the lipstick. She furrowed her brow and glared at it as if her glowering could rid his face of the mark.

"Why aren't you celebrating with everyone else?" she inquired curiously, still scourging at the red makeup with little victory.

"Got a bit bored," he admitted, shrugging slightly. "You know me; I don't quite fancy the spotlight."

   Cassie laughed quietly and shook her head, finally having the sense to pull out her wand. She set the tip gently on his cheek and muttered "Scourgify,"; the lipstick instantly dissipated from his face. She smiled to herself, pleased with her work.

   "You've always been a great witch," Harry muttered. Now that Cassie was not actively cleaning his face, the pair were suddenly aware of the distance between them – or lack thereof. Cassie bit her lip and exhaled a quiet laugh.

   "Not always," she uttered in reply, her eyes meeting his in a haze. "Never been better than.. Hermione."

   "Don't compare yourself," chided Harry with a faint frown, shaking his head lightly. "You're both great in different ways."

   "S-suppose so," she breathed, her gaze flickering to his lips for a fraction of a second. She leaned closer, but could not help but wonder if it was the firewhiskey taking over...

A loud whoop jarred them back to reality and Cassie jumped nearly three feet in the air, her heart rate quickening. A moment later, Seamus ran by without pants on. Cassie cringed and hid her face in her hands.

Nothing could kill a mood faster than a short Irish boy with no pants on.