Cassandra had been let out of the infirmary a little later than she would have expected for a minor concussion.  Apparently there was a technicality that wasn't exactly explained to her.  Frankly, she didn't care.  It did give her some time off school, but it did mean she had been stuck in the infirmary far too long to keep her sanity.

Despite being the introvert, she was really grateful for Rapunzel and even Eugene stopping by all the time to check up on her.  Did Rapunzel annoy her with trying to do everything for her? Yes.  Was Eugene a jerk and all around idiot?  The answer was always yes.  That didn't mean she didn't appreciate the effort Rapunzel put into them, even if she was constantly one breath away from screaming at times.

Perhaps it was because she simply wasn't used to someone caring about her.  Not at home at least.  She grew up with her mother, not knowing who her muggle father was.  Her mother, Gothel, wasn't the nurturing type.  She was judgemental and narcissistic, constantly gaslighting her.

Cassandra found herself lucky that she realized that the treatment her mother gave her continuously was not normal.  After spending Christmas break in second year, Cassandra usually spent them at her best friend's mansion.  It was the only place that she had ever found an enjoyable holiday, but maybe that was because she wasn't under the constant nagging and insults thrown at her by mother.

It didn't mean that she didn't love her mother either.  In fact, that's what made the emotional wounds so deep.  Whenever her mother manipulated or mistreated her, it hurt.  Like a stab in the chest and a twist of the blade.  It was excruciating.  Of course the pain eventually began to dull as time went on and it was a lot harder to penetrate her armor.  Yet something always made her stay, something with in herself.  She would never know or understand the reasons to why, but she always ended up right back together as a family.  As much of a family that it could be called.

"Cass, are you ok?"

Cassandra was ripped from her train of thought by Rapunzel's voice.  She looked at her friend who was sitting next to her. Rapunzel often sat at the Gryffindor table with her and Eugene.

"Huh?"

"Are you ok?  You were phasing out.  Do you have a headache?"

"Oh.  A little, but I was just thinking.  I'm fine, Raps."

"You've been picking at your food," the blonde added.

Glancing at her plate, Cassandra shrugged.  "Just not in the mood this morning.  Trust me, Raps.  I'm ok.  You don't have to be mother hen all the time." She passed her friend a smirk, which Rapunzel returned with a small grin.

"I'm trying to figure out why they sent the flamingo," Eugene retorted, cutting in the conversation.

Cassandra looked in the direction he was.  She snorted back a laugh, realizing that he must have been talking about Umbridge.  The woman was the only one in pink.  She was wearing nothing other than the soft pinks, as if trying to gain an innocent look.  It almost worked.  The seventh year had heard many stories from the kids of the Ministry members.  None of them seemed to really impressed by the woman.

The woman suddenly got up from her seat at the teacher's table.  She whispered something to Dumbledore, who only stared at her for a moment.  The he begrudgingly looked to the sea of students and asked for their attention.  The room went silent and the Headmaster nodded to Umbridge.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said as she walked in front of the tables. "Now, how are we all today?  I thought I would just a few words.  Now I'm here on the Ministry of Magic's bequest, under Educational Decree twenty-two.  We were alerted about the situation that took place a week ago during a Quidditch game.  And it caused a disturbance and a rational cause of concern."

Merlin.  This woman was about to give a speech in the middle of a meal.  If Cassandra wasn't hungry before, she certainly wasn't now.

"The Ministry has always considered the magical education of our children to be of vital importance," the woman continued. "And the passing down of this ancient and noble art must be given to the next generation, lest it be lost forever.  Without progress.  Without stagnation.  But progress for progress's sake is to be discouraged, for our art requires no tinkering."

"What in the blazing suns is she talking about?" Eugene whispered.  "I thought she was here to help with the attack to ensure Hogwarts' safety."

"I guess that's not all the Ministry wanted to help out with," Cassandra muttered.

"Come on guys.  Maybe it won't be so bad," Rapunzel said in a hushed tone.  However, her two companions did not seem impressed.

"A balance must be attained," Umbridge spoke grandly.  Perhaps a little dramatically.  "The new and the old.  Permanence and change.  Tradition and innovation.  Order and chaos. There are large changes coming soon.  Changes walking the fine line of order and chaos.  Know only that these changes are for the best and to prevent the destruction our civilization from its own decay." She looked around the room, her eyes scanning the students.  Her face was pasted with a fake grin that could compete with Gothel's. "Thank you."

"Does anyone know what the bloody heck this woman was talking about?" Eugene asked.

Rapunzel shrugged and shook her head.  "Beats me."

Cassandra rolled her eyes.  "It's fine.  No one understands that woman.  I'm trying to figure out why the Ministry even has her around and send her to jobs so often."

"Maybe they send her out all the time so they don't have to deal with her," Eugene said.

The girls burst into a fit of giggles.  "Eugene!" Rapunzel clapped a hand over her mouth.  "That was bad."

"But funny and probably true," he said.

She laughed more, trying to keep it quiet, but failed.  Luckily, the other student were starting to chat, so her laugh didn't stick out like a sore thumb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny was reading over her essay, checking for any mistakes she might have made.  She was glad that she was given an extra day to complete it due to the time she had to take off because of the curse she had.  It may have only knocked her down for a day, but it happened to be the day she was going to catch up on her homework.

"Hey! Weasely!"

The red head stopped walking and turned around.  She turned to the voice.  A few students walked past but Varian walked straight up to her.  He must have just been released from the infirmary.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not everything is doom and gloom, Weasley."

"Well, why else are you talking to me?" The girl raised a brow in confusion.  She thought he had been perfectly clear that he didn't want to talk to her in the infirmary or ever.

Varian reached his hand into the pocket of his robe and pulled a out and held it up to her line of sight.  The gold glinted in the sunlight and it swayed slightly.  He looked at her as surprise spread across her face.

"My locket!"

"It must had fallen off when you broke my rib with your broom.  At first, I thought a Slytherin dropped it, but the picture of Potter on the one side told me otherwise." He set it in her hand.  "It was broken when I found it, so if it's a little different, it's because I fixed it, but it was chipped too."

Ginny didn't waste any time putting it on around her neck.  "Thank you.  And I'm sorry.  I should have made sure that you were actually ok and not leave you stranded," she apologized again.

Varian shrugged.  "You said that already. Very Gryffindor of you to apologize twice."

She tilted her head.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're the Gryffindor.  Shouldn't you know?"

"You're the one using the word as a verb and not a noun.  So no.  I don't." She set her hands on her hips, slightly tilting her head.

Varian chuckled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.  "Hey, you're not half bad, I guess." He turned to leave.

"Not half bad?" Ginny raised her brow.

"Not half bad for someone who broke my rib," he said over his shoulder as he continued to walk away.

"I didn't mean to do that," she called.

"Of course not.  That's why you're not half bad." He passed her a smirk before turning and disappearing behind the corner.

Ginny only shook her head.  Slytherins confused her, but maybe it was mutual.  Maybe Gryffindors confused them as well.  She supposed it made sense, for they were considered opposites.  Shrugging, she turned around and went her own way.  She didn't make it far before someone else called her.

"Weasley!"

She groaned and looked at the owner of the voice.  Ginny instantly recognized it and she was not in the mood to deal with him, but she supposed that she wasn't getting a choice in it.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

"My bag.  I can't seem to find it.  I thought I left it at the Library when you interrupted me."

Shoot.  She forgot to give him the bag back at breakfast.  Ginny took it off her shoulder from underneath her robe.  "Yes.  As a matter of facts I was looking for you to give it back to you."

Draco immediately snatched it and opened it.  He dug in his belongings.  "Merlin, Weasley.  If you looked through my stuff I'll-"

"Come on, Malfoy.  You know I wouldn't do that," she retorted, obviously offended.

Draco paused. "Where's the other book?"

Ginny creased her brows together in confusion.  "What book?"

He studied her moment.  "Nevermind.  It was in my other bag," he muttered as he stormed off.

Did he just admit he was wrong?  Ginny wasn't sure what just happened, but decided not to dwell on it.  However, she couldn't explain the sinking feeling in her stomach as if she had just lied.  But she didn't.  She had taken the bag, set it in her dorm and didn't touch it against until that morning to give it back to him.  So why did it feel like that wasn't true?"

She shook her head.  It didn't matter.  Even Draco said that he was wrong.  Whatever possessed him to admit to that was still a question.  One she kept trying to push from her mind.  It was definitely an off day for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Varian sat down in the DADA class in the back row.  He leaned back as he watched more students trickle in. Dolores Umbridge was writing on the board.  If he was being honest, he didn't think Umbridge would kick Remus out of his own class he was teaching. 

The woman turned towards them.  "Good morning class. As you may know, I am Dolores Umbridge, sent here by the Ministry.  I will be taking Mr. Lupin's place as we begin the new curriculum-" she was cut short by Harry Potter walking in.  "Mr. Potter, you're late.  Five points to Gryffindor"

"Oh... Um... Sorry, Professor," he apologized, taking a seat next to Ron.

Varian rolled his eyes.  Harry was technically one minute early.  He just came later than when Umbridge decided to start flapping her mouth, but he wasn't going to say anything.

"Now, as I was saying before Mr. Potter interrupted with his antics," she began. "Your Defense Against the Dark Arts education has been rather fragmented and disjointed in your past classes, hasn't it?  Know now that this is about to be rectified.  I will be following a pre-approved, Ministry prepared, theory centered Defense lesson plan." She stepped aside and gestured to the black board.  "Copy this down."

Hermione raised her hand. "Um..."

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I wanted to know something about your course aims."

"Well, they should be perfectly self evident," Umbridge said, glancing at the board.

"I don't think they are. They say nothing about actually doing the spells," Hermione pointed out.

Umbridge let out a laugh.  "I can imagine no circumstances when you would need to do spells while in my class, dear."

"But isn't the whole point of the Defense Against the Drk Arts is practical application?"

"Miss Granger, this class has been approved by Ministry experts.  Are you a Ministry expert?"

"No, but-"

"Then you have no business challenging those who are-"

Varian raised his hand.

"What, Mr. Meyer?" She put a fake smile on her face, obviously annoyed.

"Was this curriculum created by St. Croix?"

"Dr. St. Croix, and yes, indeed.  How did you know?"

"It has his style written all over it.  I've read quite a bit of his books."

Her smile became more genuine.  "Interested in Ministry work, dear?"

"Yes." Varian set his chin on his hand.  His body language showing that he was not impressed, but Umbridge seemed to either to disregard it entirely or just didn't notice.

"But if we don't do spells, how will we pass our O.W.Ls?" Hermione asked.

"Or more importantly, defend ourselves? From Voldemort?" Harry cut in.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter." Umbridge's face went serious.  "That is not an assumption we should be throwing around.  Especially when he is dead. We should not spread fear into others for threats that aren't real. Stop spreading lies."

"What do you mean? It's not a lie! I saw him!  He has returned," Harry insisted.  "He murdered Cedric Diggory! Unless you're accusing me of murder, or are you saying he dropped dead on his own accord?"

"You have landed yourself a detention as well, Mr. Potter.  Now.  Shall we begin this lesson or do we have other questions or wild stories to add to this?" Her tone was dangerous.  No one dared to speak. She nodded, passing a chilling smile.  "Good."