Lucius struck again, a week later. This time, he managed to have Dumbledore sacked. He was insufferably smug about it, gliding through the castle as though the victory had cost him nothing. But everyone knew the truth... he'd poured an obscene amount of gold into greasing the right palms and twisting the right arms to make it happen. What no one could quite figure out, though, was what he truly stood to gain from driving Hogwarts into chaos.

Cassian walked into the garden, biting into an apple. From the window he saw Aurors dragging Hagrid out of his hut like he'd punched the Minister in the teeth. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were standing nearby, stiff with shock. Fudge stood beside them, too pleased with himself for someone ruining a man's morning.

"Ah, Cassian—" Fudge started, all teeth and oily cheer.

Cassian raised his head. "What is the meaning of this?"

Hagrid looked panicked. "I didn't do anything, Cass—"

The Auror on his left gave him a shove.

Cassian frowned at them, making Fudge raise his hand.

The Auror stopped pushing.

Fudge stepped forward, smoothing his front. "It's nothing personal. Standard procedure. Given recent events, the Ministry feels—"

Cassian smiled at the man. "I understand, Minister, and I get why you're doing it. You want to reassure the parents, show them you're in control, fine. But Hagrid is innocent. He was proven innocent. Locking him up again isn't going to stop the attacks."

Fudge pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing his forehead like someone halfway through a bad lie. "Yes, yes, but Hagrid was the main suspect the first time the Chamber was opened."

Cassian opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a chirpy, high-pitched hum from behind.

"Hem hem."

He turned. The toad-faced woman from the Yule Ball, Dolores bloody Umbridge, was making her way over, flanked by two more Aurors. One of them was awkwardly clutching a cauldron and what looked like a half-knitted scarf.

"Professor Rosier," she said, in a tone that had all the warmth of a dead fish. "This is Ministry business. Please stay out of it."

Cassian frowned. Hard. Enough that Fudge quickly stepped in.

"It's alright, Dolores. Cassian is not an outsider and he is just... concerned."

Cassian didn't look at her. "Minister, I was named by the perpetrator. So was Professor Babbling. Directly. I assure you, it's not Hagrid."

"Professor Rosier," Dolores started again, but Cassian raised a hand to cut across whatever syrupy nonsense she was about to spill next.

He stepped forward, slow, unbothered. "You're dragging a man without a wand to a prison. Based on something that didn't hold up the first time round." He glanced at Hagrid, whose arms were being held like he was about to swing at someone. "And the one useful lead you have, who's lived on the grounds for decades, you're about to toss into a cell."

Fudge looked down at his shoes.

Dolores didn't blink. "The Minister has the full confidence of the Wizengamot—"

"Duly noted," Cassian said. "Now answer the question. On the day of the first attack, Hagrid was with me and Professor Babbling."

Hagrid opened his mouth. Cassian shot him a look. He shut it again.

Fudge hesitated, one foot shuffling slightly in the gravel. "Sorry, Cassian. My hands are tied this time."

Cassian squinted at him. "So be it, Minister. But I hope you won't be sending him to Azkaban. Keep him at the Ministry. Somewhere that doesn't chew your soul as snacks."

Dolores opened her mouth. Cassian looked at her.

"This wasn't a request from a professor."

Fudge almost stumbled. "Of course, Cassian. I'll make sure of it."

Cassian turned to the kids. "Follow me."

He took a few steps, then glanced over his shoulder.

"Say hi to Lucius, Minister."

Fudge mumbled something Cassian didn't care.

Harry caught up first, jogging a bit to match his pace. "What's Azkaban?"

Ron and Neville both turned to stare at him.

"You're joking," Ron said.

Harry shook his head. "Never heard of it."

Neville slowed slightly. "It's where they send the worst criminals. Murderers, dark wizards, anyone the Ministry thinks is dangerous."

"It's a prison, but worse," Ron added. "Full of Dementors."

Harry frowned. "What are those?"

"They guard the place," Neville said. "They... feed on you. Not your body. Everything else."

"They suck out your happiness," Ron muttered. "Leave you with just the bad stuff. Mum says they make you forget who you are, if you're there long enough."

Harry looked slightly sick. "And they're sending Hagrid there?"

"Supposed to," Cassian said from ahead. "But not if I can help it."

They walked in silence for a moment.

Harry glanced back toward Hagrid's hut, now empty. "Why would they even think it was him?"

"Because he's big," Cassian said. "And because most people in charge haven't had a decent thought since the last goblin rebellion."

Neville looked up at him. "But you said he was with you."

Cassian shrugged. "I lied."

Hermione gasped like someone had kicked a library over. "Professor, how could you lie to the highest authority in—" She stopped herself, hands flailing mid-air as if she could grab the sentence and shove it back into her mouth. "Fine."

Cassian chuckled. "Atta girl."

Harry didn't laugh. "Then why? Why still take him?"

Cassian looked at him. "Because someone with more power than me also lied."

***

McGonagall, first thing as the Acting Headmistress, gathered the staff to talk about what to do next. She stood at the front of the staffroom, sleeves rolled.

A monster loose in the castle. Students turning to stone. Dumbledore gone. Hagrid taken away.

McGonagall's voice was rightfully strained. "Right. First things first, Pomona, how are the Mandrakes progressing?"

Sprout shifted on her seat, her cheeks a bit pink. "Coming along. Slowly. They've hit adolescence, so we're getting the tantrums and flailing limbs. I'd say... three more weeks, at least. Possibly four."

Snape made a faint noise at that. Cassian didn't need to look to know it wasn't enthusiasm.

McGonagall nodded, tight. "Until then, we keep everyone in pairs. Staff escorting students where possible. No one alone."

She turned back to the rest. "We stay alert. If you see anything, hear anything, you report it. Nothing is too small. If you suspect a student is hiding something, bring it to me directly."

Flitwick raised a hand slightly. "We should be involving the Prefects more actively."

"Yes," McGonagall said. "Start with patrols. Give them structure, something to do. Idle minds invite panic."

She moved on. "No changes to lesson schedules. No cancellations. The more normalcy, the better. We keep the castle running."

Snape scoffed. "Normalcy is a poor shield."

"Then find a better one," McGonagall said sharply.

There was a short silence after that.

Cassian tapped his fingers against his arm. "We're assuming it won't escalate."

McGonagall looked over.

"Just saying," he went on, "we've had several petrifications. No fatalities. Yet. Something's changing. Either the attacker is being careful, or it's building to something worse."

Bathsheda added from next to him. "Or the creature's handler is learning."

Snape's eyes narrowed.

McGonagall frowned. "You're suggesting someone's controlling it. I've assumed whoever opened the chamber just let it loose."

Bathsheda didn't blink. "I'm saying it's an option."

Cassian added, "Monsters don't usually come with schedules. Or restraint. This one's being clever. That's a problem."

McGonagall looked at him for a long moment, then gave a nod. "Fine. We'll expand patrols. Include the ghosts, see if they've heard anything strange."

"Perhaps," Snape said, "if we knew what exactly we were protecting them from, that might help."

McGonagall glanced his way. "We know what we need to know. There is a creature—"

"Yes," He cut in, scoffing. "and it's turning children into statues. We don't need to pretend anymore, do we? Illusory roosters make it fairly clear the creature is a Basilisk."

The staffroom shifted. A few flinched.

Snape turned, eyes hard on Cassian. "The question is, how long have you known?"

Cassian met the stare. "For some time now."

Snape smiled without a hint of warmth. "And you've kept it to yourself?"

Cassian shrugged. "Don't act clever, Severus. Doesn't suit."

From beside him, Bathsheda kicked his shin under the table.

He winced. "I told the Headmaster. Asked him to release poultry into the halls. He said the Governors would use it as an excuse to pull him early." He looked around. "Didn't matter, did it?"

McGonagall sighed. "A Basilisk," she muttered, half to herself.

Sprout adjusted her sleeves. "That wouldn't explain why they're petrified, not killed."

Flitwick shot to his feet too fast for a man his size. "Reflection! That's why you and Professor Babbling created those glasses."

The room turned toward Cassian and Bathsheda. She gave a short nod. Cassian was surprised Heads of Houses had no idea. Since he told Dumbledore a while ago.

Flitwick pressed on, connecting dots faster than most of them could keep up with. "Yes. Mrs Norris saw the creature reflected from the floor. Colin through his camera lens. Finch-Fletchley through Nearly Headless Nick."

Cassian tapped the side of his own specs. "Wear glasses. Might save your life."

A few glanced around, checking who had a pair. Vector muttered something under her breath.

No one argued.

Lockhart cleared his throat. "Well, if I'd known that, I might have been more, ah, targeted in my research."

Cassian gave him a thumbs up. "With the amount of mirrors in your room, you're the safest man alive, Lockhart. Honestly, take the glasses off, at this rate, you'll reflect the beast back into its own egg."

Lockhart looked mildly pleased with himself, as though survival by narcissism was a valid defence strategy. He adjusted his sleeves, looking smug, as if it had been his plan all along.

Snape didn't look amused.

McGonagall cleared her throat, not bothering to hide the edge in her voice. "This doesn't change the fact that we've still no idea how it's getting around the castle."

Bathsheda tapped the table with the end of her quill. "Pipes. Cassian and I think it's travelling through the plumbing."

"That's nonsense," Trelawney muttered. "How would a creature that size even fit—"

"It's a snake," Cassian cut in. "A bloody long one. Snakes don't care for your architectural logic."

"Also," Bathsheda added, "Cassian nearly fell through a wall last week trying to trace one of the old crawlspaces."

"Fell," he scoffed. "I was shoved by a rat the size of a teapot."

Flitwick blinked. "A rat?"

"Spiteful little bastard," Cassian said. "Bit me in the shin on the way out."

McGonagall sighed. "Please stay on topic."

"Topic is," he said, leaning forward, "if it's moving through the pipes, it explains how it's getting into locked corridors, bypassing patrols, and avoiding every nosy portrait in this place."

Snape's expression was unreadable. "Do you have any evidence in your claim?"

"Then let's cut the castle open and find out," Cassian said. "I'll bring the sword."

"That's not happening," McGonagall said flatly.

"Cowards," Cassian muttered, sitting back.

"Fine," McGonagall went on. "We work with what we have. Increased patrols. Everyone wear glasses. We reinforce the protective charms around the dormitories and restrict bathroom access."

Snape's brow twitched. "That'll go over well."

"Then get used to it," she said. "I'd rather have a queue of desperate teenagers outside the staff loo than another student in the hospital wing."

There was a short silence.

Then Cassian said, "You know, if I'd known I'd end up policing lavatory breaks and hunting mythical reptiles, I'd have skipped the application entirely."

Bathsheda smirked. "And miss this thrilling display of teamwork?"

"Tragic loss," he said. "Devastated, really."

McGonagall ignored them both. "We reconvene in two days. If anything changes, I expect to hear about it the moment it does."

The meeting broke up in murmurs, chairs scraping, parchment rustling. Lockhart tried to reassert his relevance with a passing comment about calming charms and crowd management, which McGonagall shot down with a single look.

Cassian stood, stretching slightly. His spine popped.

Bathsheda fell into step beside him as they exited.

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