Unwanted Associates

The heavy door of the Room of Requirement clicked shut behind them with a soft, echoing thud, sealing away the haze of their shared intimacies. The corridor stretched out like a shadowed vein in the castle's stone heart, torches flickering in iron sconces and casting elongated silhouettes that danced across the flagstone floor.

At the far end, two massive figures loomed—hulking and hunched, their broad shoulders nearly brushing the walls as they shifted uneasily, grunting in low, guttural tones like beasts awaiting a command.

Cassiopeia's stride faltered for a split second, her silver-blonde hair catching the torchlight in a cascade of shimmering strands. Her lips curled into a sneer, nostrils flaring as if the mere sight carried a foul odor. She leaned closer to Harry, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper that slithered through the air like smoke.

"Crabbe and Goyle," she hissed, the words dripping with contempt, her eyes narrowing to slits that gleamed with remnants of old Malfoy haughtiness. One of them scratched his thick neck, oblivious, while the other shuffled his feet, their blank stares fixed on the group like dim lanterns in fog—clearly still clinging to outdated loyalties, too sluggish to register the shift in winds.

She pivoted toward Harry then, her expression melting like wax under flame. The disdain evaporated, replaced by a radiant smile that parted her plush, rose-tinted lips, revealing a glimpse of perfect teeth. Her hand brushed his arm lightly, fingers trailing warmth through his robe as she tilted her head, lashes fluttering in a way that made the torchlight sparkle in her stormy eyes.

"Harry, dear," she purred, the words wrapping around him like velvet ribbons, smooth and inviting, "would you grant me the pleasure of dealing with my two former... associates?"