Abnormal ?James Potter?

Chapter 8: In Silence and In Crowds

The morning dawned overcast, the sky heavy with gray clouds that mirrored the tension brewing inside Hogwarts. Breakfast in the Great Hall was subdued, the usual chatter dulled by an undercurrent of unease.

Cassiopeia Black swept into the Hall, her composure flawless, her steps measured. If she felt the weight of the previous night's events, it didn't show. Her uniform was pristine, her dark hair gleaming in the candlelight. To anyone watching, she was the picture of control. A true Black Heir.

But inside, her thoughts were a storm. The Slytherin common room had been merciless last night, whispers of dissent rippling through the ranks. Regulus had been unreadable as always, Barty had been his usual calculating self, a problem she'd have to control, and Evan... Evan had overstepped, and she wouldn't forget it.

She took her usual seat at the Slytherin table, ignoring the glances from her housemates. Regulus and Barty were already there, deep in conversation. Barty's grin widened when he saw her, a mockery of warmth.

"Cassie," he drawled. "You look positively radiant this morning."

"Save it, Barty," she said coldly, reaching for the teapot.

Regulus looked up, his pale eyes scanning her face. "Rough night?"

Cassiopeia met his gaze with a smirk that didn't reach her eyes. "Hardly. I've handled worse."

Barty chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Of course you have. Still, you should have seen the Gryffindor common room last night. It's all anyone's talking about this morning. You've certainly made an impression."

Cassiopeia's grip on her teacup tightened imperceptibly. "Let them talk. It doesn't matter, their opinion weighs less than a Pygmy Puff."

"Doesn't it?" Regulus asked softly.

Her eyes flicked to him, sharp as a blade. "Not in the way you're implying."

Regulus didn't reply, but the look he gave her was heavy with meaning.

"So," Barty drawled, his eyes fixated on Regulus, breaking the silence. "What's our queen plotting this fine morning?"

Cassiopeia's eyes flicked up to meet his, cold and sharp, noticing the Slytherin's gaze constantly on her cousin, eying him like an object. This was something she needed to fix... or use. "I don't plot, Barty. I strategize."

Barty grinned. "Of course. How could I forget? You're the great Cassiopeia Black—always ten steps ahead of the rest of us mere mortals."

Beside him, Regulus stirred his tea, his expression unreadable. "What's the plan for Potter? Not the one you hinted at in front of the lot, the actual one" he asked quietly, his voice cutting through Barty's teasing.

Cassiopeia took a sip of her own tea, her gaze drifting toward the Gryffindor table where James sat surrounded by his usual crowd. He was laughing at something Sirius had said, his smile bright and carefree. It set her teeth on edge, her jaw tensing at the heartwarming sight. Every laugh so free– a laugh that used to only be heard in the concaves of the Black manner, hidden from the havoc they had to endure, a laugh that could only be heard by her was now broadcasted for the world to hear.

"The plan," she said evenly, "is already in motion, trust me he has already fallen for my lies. You needn't get involved."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "And you think he won't notice? Believe me, I've watched him for years, he might seem as intelligent as a troll Cassie, but it's far from the truth."