Abnormal ?James Potter?

       The Hogwarts Express shuddered to a halt, the steam rising like mist around the castle spires as students disembarked, chattering excitedly. Cassiopeia descended onto the platform with quiet composure, a singular figure moving purposefully through the crowd. Her presence, elegant and unyielding, carved a path amid the throng of students eager to begin the new term.

The castle loomed ahead, familiar yet ever brimming with potential—a stage upon which the complexities of her design would unfold. Cassiopeia's heart, fortified by resolve, beat with the steady rhythm of purpose as she ascended the steps, her gaze never wavering from the goal she envisioned.

Within the Great Hall, enchanted candles floated serenely above, casting luminescent warmth across the House tables. Cassiopeia found her place among the Slytherins, the subtle nods of recognition mingling with curiosity—what plans had the heiress brewed over the summer?

Her companions from the train settled around her, each retaining the echoes of the compartment's earlier revelations entering the Great Hall. Cassiopeia slipped into her place among the Slytherins, her companions from the train flanking her with a practiced familiarity. Evan Rosier took his seat nearby, with Montague settling closer, eager to mirror Evan's significance. Barty Crouch Jr. and Narcissa joined the assembly, their positioning calculated with the unspoken rules the group adhered to. Evan Rosier made sure he took the seat next to Cassiopeia, with the unspoken assumption of privilege that he was favoured by her, Montague trailing in his wake, eager and alert. Narcissa and Barty Crouch Jr. positioned themselves with practiced ease near Cassiopeia, their presence both familiar and strategic.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," Dumbledore greeted from the staff table, his voice resonating across the hall with kind benevolence, a sharp contrast to the swirling currents of Slytherin ambition.

Cassiopeia met his gaze briefly, a courteous smile touching her lips—understated recognition masked her deeper intent. Underestimating Dumbledore's oversight would be folly; playing the role demanded subtle deflection.

As the Sorting Hat sang its annual song, weaving tales of unity and house heritage, Cassiopeia's thoughts traced the unseen lines of her strategy. James Potter and his loyal faction held court at the Gryffindor table, oblivious to the shadows weaving inexorably closer. She studied them with the tactician's eye, noting friendships like threads ready to unravel under her deft hand.

Suddenly, a shift in the room's energy heralded the entrance of Bellatrix Lestrange, her commanding presence drawing eyes as she swept across the room. Her long, dark hair cascaded like a shadow, her gait exuding intensity. She acknowledged Cassiopeia with a curt nod before taking her seat, her entrance cutting through the room's noise like a cold blade, the Carrows followed behind her as if they were her nightmarish shadow.

"Another year at Hogwarts," Bellatrix intoned, exuding the authority cultivated by her assuredness and power. "Let's see if Gryffindor still dares to fly on wings of borrowed strength."

Cassiopeia met her sister's gaze, an enigmatic smile touching her lips, cool and quietly assertive. "When pride is founded on bluster, it collapses like a house of cards," she replied, echoing a sentiment understood between them—the rivalry between bloodlines and their shared duty to elevate it, no matter the cost.

Evan leaned toward Cassiopeia, muting his voice amidst the hall's growing clamor. "Potter carries himself with far too much audacity," he observed. "Do you truly think he can be turned?" he muttered studying the Marauders with a predator's eye.

"Recklessness is a weapon against itself," Cassiopeia replied, her voice a whisper sharpened with knowledge of manipulation. "Patience, Evan. Every ounce of his certainty will become a chink in their armor, besides Rosier everyone knows that...." Cassiopeia's voice now held a soft confident murmur, "The best games are won before they're begun. His confidence will be his undoing."