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Cassandra's words weren't entirely without basis. In fact, from the very beginning, she had mentioned the "Grimm's Fairy Tales" story about Harry and Veratia at Nurmengard Castle.
Her teasing stemmed from her assumption that Harry would act like the prince who kisses Cinderella awake, planting a kiss on her.
But such riddles were lost on someone as dense as Harry—even if his emotional intelligence were higher, he'd still shy away from riddlers.
"It's my fault, Cassandra," Harry said with a hint of resignation. "I should've learned to be smarter, so I'd know what you're getting at."
Cassandra slowly sat up, pressing a hand to her forehead as if dizzy. After a moment, she said, "Alright, we should get out of this wretched place—I need to return to Malfoy Manor."
"I suggest you wait a bit. You've been lying here for so long," Harry said, looking at her with concern. "Once you're feeling better, I'll take you back to Malfoy Manor."
"It's been so long, the people at Malfoy Manor might not even recognize me anymore," Cassandra sighed leisurely. "And you—I remember you're Muggle-born, right? Without me, would the younger Malfoys even bother to deal with you civilly?"
"I need to correct you there. First, I'm not Muggle-born." Harry met Cassandra's eyes, holding up a finger. "I come from the Potter family in the wizarding world—you know, that Potter family. Also, in this era… my mother once defeated the most powerful dark wizard of her time."
Cassandra's eyes widened in surprise at Harry's words.
Then she shook her head with a chuckle. "If my father knew you were a Potter, he'd probably go mad with joy."
"Why?" Harry asked, bewildered.
Cassandra didn't answer, instead giving him a playful smile.
But the smile didn't last long. In the silence of Merlin's Chamber, a loud rumble of hunger suddenly echoed.
Instantly, a suspicious flush crept across Cassandra's cheeks.
She turned her face aside, one small hand subtly pressing against her stomach.
Harry said nothing. He pulled a can of Cola from his pocket, opened it, and after a moment's thought, used a Heating Charm to warm it before handing it to her.
"Have some Cola. It's flat now, but I've heard it's the best thing for filling an empty stomach after a long time without food," Harry said.
Cassandra reached for the can. Harry had controlled the spell perfectly, releasing the fizz while keeping the Cola's temperature just right.
He'd heard on TV that Cola was useful in situations like this.
What Harry forgot, however, was that Cassandra wasn't a Muggle but a witch. Muggle remedies didn't quite work the same for her.
Even if you gave Cassandra a pile of lampreys, she wouldn't end up like King Henry I of England, stuffed to death…
Holding the warm can of Cola, Cassandra sipped it slowly, her eyes narrowing in contentment.
"It's sweet," she said, a rare compliment.
Once she'd nearly finished the can, Cassandra stood up slowly and said to Harry, "What kind of potion is this? It's surprisingly effective…"
"Er, it's a Muggle drink called Cola," Harry replied.
As he spoke, Harry couldn't help but wonder—why hadn't Cassandra's clothes been eroded by time?
Was it because of Merlin?
Cassandra said nothing. She drew the wand that had been her companion for so long and wrote a line of elegant script in the air.
"Cola"
"Is that how it's spelled?" she asked, turning to Harry.
"Yes."
Harry had wanted to ask if she'd lost her magic, but the words stopped at the tip of his tongue.
In the moment before he spoke, a string in his heart suddenly tightened, warning him not to ask that question.
Now, seeing that Cassandra's magic was still intact, Harry let out a sigh of relief.
Good. Her magic was still there.
"Let's go," she said with a relaxed air. "We'll head back to Malfoy Manor together…"
With that, Cassandra grabbed the fabric at Harry's shoulder and tugged him forward.
They walked out through the door, where fireflies flickered faintly outside. At some point, a white mist had silently enveloped the surroundings, shrouding the Forbidden Forest like a fairy-tale realm.
Cassandra held onto Harry, and the two twisted and spun through space. With a sharp crack in the air, they vanished from the spot.
The next second, they appeared at the gates of Malfoy Manor.
The moment Harry and Cassandra materialized, Dobby appeared at their side.
"Harry Potter!" Dobby clasped his hands to his chest, swooning dramatically. "The great Harry Potter graces Malfoy Manor! Dobby… Dobby is honored…"
At Dobby's words, Cassandra let out a derisive snort.
"I never would've thought you were the great Harry Potter," she said. "Even more surprising is that a Malfoy house-elf takes pride in your visit?"
How could Dobby tolerate anyone speaking ill of Harry Potter? Even when Lucius used to belittle Harry, Dobby had been quietly displeased.
He raised his head, glaring at Cassandra.
"You mustn't speak like—"
Dobby's voice faltered, shrinking as his expression turned to one of horror. "Merlin's beard—Miss Cassandra? Is it really Miss Cassandra?"
"Dobby," Cassandra huffed. "I never imagined a Malfoy house-elf would…"
She glanced at Harry. "…fawn over an outsider like this?"
Dobby collapsed to his knees, whimpering and banging his head against the wall.
"Oh, Merlin! Miss Cassandra has returned to her Malfoy Manor! If Master Septimus knew, he'd be overjoyed…"
Harry, stunned, pointed at Dobby, then at Cassandra. "You two know each other?"
"Dobby is Kiki's son. Of course I know him," Cassandra said with a sniff. "Dobby was born in 1892, the year you disappeared. When I left Malfoy Manor, he was just old enough to remember things."
Meanwhile, Dobby was still beside himself, thumping his chest. "Oh, Merlin! Miss Cassandra is back at last! You don't know—you can't know what the Malfoy family went through after you left! But you're back! Miss Cassandra is back, and now we have a leader! Miss Cassandra is back, and the Malfoy family is saved!"
As Dobby wailed, Lucius appeared at the manor's entrance, Narcissa trailing behind him.
Upon seeing Harry, Lucius and Narcissa nodded in greeting. But when Lucius saw Cassandra, his pupils contracted sharply.
In an instant, he guessed the identity of the girl before him.
Still, he wasn't entirely certain. After all… he'd never seen his great-aunt, not even in photographs.
"Are you… my great-aunt, Miss Cassandra Malfoy?" he asked tentatively.
"That's me," Cassandra replied, resuming her characteristic haughty demeanor.
The moment Lucius saw that demeanor, he knew—she was definitely a Malfoy. No one else could carry that air.
It was practically hereditary.
"It's an honor to meet you, Great-Aunt Cassandra," Lucius said, standing ramrod straight like a schoolboy. "I am the current head of the Malfoy family, Lucius Malfoy. This is my wife, Narcissa, of the Black family."
"Pleased to meet you," Cassandra said with a faint smile and a nod.
After the formalities, an ecstatic Lucius eagerly invited his great-aunt to take her rightful place in her loyal Malfoy Manor.
They chatted briefly in the main hall before Cassandra got to the point.
"Lucius, where is my father's portrait?"
"This way, please," Lucius said, rising and gesturing for her to follow.
Harry and Cassandra followed Lucius to a small room housing the portraits.
Lucius tactfully excused himself. He was clearly more thrilled about his great-aunt's return than anyone else.
With a spring in his step, he returned to the main hall to discuss with Narcissa—perhaps about how to make Great-Aunt Cassandra into Cassandra Potter.
In the room, the portraits were clearly asleep. It was nighttime, after all, and even portraits deserved a quiet rest.
Cassandra approached Septimus's portrait and knocked gently.
"I believe I said not to disturb me!" Septimus snapped, clearly grumpy from being woken.
But as he sat up and saw who was knocking, his nightcap fell off in shock.
"Cassie?!"
He scrambled out of bed, pressing himself against the edge of the portrait as if he might burst out with enough effort.
"You're back?! Did that Potter boy save you?"
"Yes, Father," Cassandra said with a smile. "As you can see, I'm back."
Septimus sighed, sitting back on his bed, looking weary but relieved. "Good. You're back. That's all that matters…"
"I'm sorry, Father," Cassandra said softly. "Please forgive my willfulness…"
"I don't blame you, Cassie," Septimus said. "Everyone has the right to pursue their happiness. Only you know if the shoe fits."
"Thank you for understanding, Father," Cassandra said, her eyes downcast. "Where's Ignatius? I don't see his portrait."
"He's right there," Septimus said, pointing to the left.
Cassandra looked and saw a portrait—turned backward.
She reached out and flipped it around.
Harry instinctively turned his head away.
Sure enough, Ignatius's eyes landed not on Cassandra but on Harry first.
"Harry Potter!" Ignatius roared, seething. "You have the nerve to show your face at Malfoy Manor?! I'll deal with you myself—"
Cassandra coughed twice, interrupting him.
"Cassie?" Ignatius's expression shifted instantly. "You're back—when? Did this Potter bring you back? Hmph… I suppose it's not for nothing that you've always been kind to him."
"As you can see, brother," Cassandra said softly. "I escaped Merlin's Chamber, thanks to Potter—"
She turned, giving Harry a playful wink.
That tear-shaped mole made the expression… oddly captivating, sending a jolt through Harry's heart.
"At least he has a conscience, remembering you…" Ignatius began, but Cassandra cut him off.
She steered the conversation elsewhere.
After catching up briefly, Cassandra asked, "Father, in Death's illusion, I saw you—"
"You saw me?" Septimus frowned.
"Yes, it must've been your soul," she said.
She recounted the events in detail to Septimus.
"You know Death can not only bring souls to reality but also weave dreams," Septimus said. "Did it not occur to you that he might've been trying to trick you into giving up on waking?"
"But I don't think so, Father," Cassandra said, turning her head. "I believe it was really you, not some illusion woven by Death… What if Death has your soul?"
"Oh, that's unlikely," Septimus said casually. "You're the one who escaped the boundary between life and death. Death has no reason to come for me."
Cassandra nodded hesitantly. After a brief exchange with Septimus, Ignatius suddenly asked, "So, what are your plans now? Stay at Malfoy Manor and manage the estate? I can be your advisor."
"I want to return to Hogwarts and continue my studies," Cassandra said. "You know, after dropping out in sixth year, I never received proper wizarding education. Now, I plan to go back to Hogwarts and finish what I started."
"Very well, if that's what you want," Septimus nodded.
He added, "You've likely met Lucius already, haven't you? By lineage, he's Ignatius's grandson, so he's your descendant too. If you wish to return to school, he'll help arrange it."
"I understand, Father," Cassandra said.
"Also, I had your old room sealed," Septimus continued. "Ignatius informed Abraxas, his son—Lucius's father—about it. I believe Lucius knows as well."
"Thank you, Father," Cassandra said, lifting her head.
After leaving the portrait room, Lucius was already waiting nearby. Seeing them emerge, he hurried forward. "Great-Aunt Cassandra, I've had Lali prepare your room. Rest assured, she's always efficient."
"Good," Cassandra said with a slight nod. "Thank you, Lucius. And from now on, just call me Cassandra. After all, I'm only a teenager in appearance now."
"Of course," Lucius said quickly.
"Also, I plan to return to Hogwarts to repeat my sixth year and complete the education I left unfinished," Cassandra said, glancing at a nearby calendar with what seemed like a sigh or perhaps wistful reflection. "I recall a hundred years ago, when we fought Ranrok, it was around this day, wasn't it, Potter?"
"Seems like it," Harry said, looking at the calendar.
"If you wish to return to Hogwarts, I'll arrange everything," Lucius said eagerly.
Cassandra didn't refuse Lucius's offer, accepting his help with grace.
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