Cassandra's Tears

The one from a hundred years ago?

That legendary wizard, Harry Potter?

Harry glanced at Draco and saw that the other was looking at him with an expression of extreme anticipation.

That was clearly saying, "Hurry up and admit it, Potter, you're the wizard from a hundred years ago!"

See, my parents don't trust me. Let's shock them!

Seeing his expression, Harry suddenly felt a mischievous urge.

"How could that be?" Harry said with a chuckle. "I was just teasing Draco when I said that to him earlier."

"I see." Lucius looked enlightened. "I knew it. Time travel is understandable, but going from seventeen back to eleven is absolutely impossible!"

It's no wonder Lucius didn't believe it; it was simply too outlandish to be true.

Draco looked shocked, then glared at Harry with a reproachful and resentful look.

Harry gave Draco a mischievous smile, which confirmed to Lucius and Narcissa that Harry was just teasing the child.

However, they didn't mind, after all, Harry had essentially saved Draco's future.

"By the way, I have some personal matters to attend to at the Malfoy Manor," Harry suddenly said.

"Please speak," Lucius said firmly, leaning slightly forward. "If the Malfoy family can help, we will do our utmost."

Harry took two documents out of his wallet and handed them to Lucius.

"These are the documents between Gringotts and the Lestrange family on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Gringotts has transferred the position on the Board of Governors to me," Harry said cheerfully.

Lucius was startled. He took the document and examined it carefully, finding that it was indeed genuine.

this...

This Potter, at such a young age, is actually so incredibly powerful?

He looked Harry over again and began to evaluate him further.

Not only is he incredibly strong and has a vast network of connections, but he's also Dumbledore's Golden Boy...

Lucius admitted that he was wavering a bit, and perhaps betting on him early on was a good option?

Adhering to the principle of not asking what shouldn't be asked, he said to Harry, "So, Mr. Potter wants me to help you become a Hogwarts school board member?"

"No, it's my friend," Harry said casually. "I'm just a student, there's no point in me joining the Board of Governors, so I'd rather have my friend temporarily serve as a school board member."

"No problem." Lucius nodded. "As long as the documents exist, with the Malfoy family's influence, we can definitely help Mr. Potter and your friend obtain seats on the school board member."

"But..." Harry changed the subject, "My identity as a friend might be a bit troublesome."

"A bit troublesome?" Lucius chuckled to himself. Could any identity be more troublesome than that of Death Eater?

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter," he said confidently. "May I ask who your friend is...?"

"It's Unicorn," Harry said, uttering a statement that shocked everyone present. "Unicorn from the Forbidden Forest."

"You mean— Unicorn?" Lucius asked, unwilling to give up.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Is it difficult?"

"No, it's not difficult!" Lucius took a deep breath and forced a smile. "As long as they're Mr. Potter's friend, I'm willing to support this Unicorn..."

"Her name is Pabbie, and she can talk," Harry said with a smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy, she won't cause you any trouble."

"Okay." Lucius nodded.

"However..." Lucius asked again, somewhat suspiciously, "Excuse my curiosity, Mr. Potter, isn't it said that Unicorn only befriend the purest-hearted women? Why would she befriend you?"

Harry sighed, "Because I was in solitary confinement in the Forbidden Forest when she was attacked by Voldemort, who wanted to drink her blood to prolong his life—I fought off Voldemort and saved her, so we became friends."

Upon hearing Voldemort's name, everyone present was startled once again.

No one dares to mention this name.

Some people bring it up out of ignorance, while others do so out of fearlessness.

The Mr. Potter in front of us is clearly the latter.

As school board member the Hogwarts Board of Trustees, he naturally had keen eyes and ears, and he was more or less aware of what was happening at Hogwarts.

He defeated Voldemort at the end of the semester, and he said that defeating Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest was not an exaggeration, because he really had the ability.

"No wonder." Lucius sighed, glancing up at Draco, who looked on with slight admiration, and shook his head helplessly.

Never mind, never mind.

If other people's children are not too far apart in terms of development, they might even push their children to excel.

But the gap is so large it's almost despairing...

Lucius was already tired of loving.

After the banquet, Lucius didn't rush Harry to leave, and Harry wasn't in a hurry either.

He had Draco take Harry for a walk around the manor.

Mr. Potter has never been to the manor, so we must do our best to be hospitable.

Draco stood up and beckoned Harry to go outside.

As he stepped outside, Draco suddenly frowned.

"Harry, why don't you tell Mom and Dad the truth!"

"What truth?" Harry chuckled.

Seeing Harry's cheerful, childlike expression, Draco felt a little frustrated.

"That's right—why don't you just say you're Harry Potter from a hundred years ago!" Draco demanded.

"Guess," Harry said with a chuckle.

Draco's face twitched, and he muttered, "Saint Potter!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're actually a lot like your great-aunt?" Harry suddenly said. "That's what she called me back then, Saint Potter —I think it was in my second year."

"Can you tell me your story?" Draco was still a child, and the topic was immediately changed.

He was actually quite interested in the experiences of legendary wizards—especially those related to his ancestors.

"There's not much to say, really. My first meeting with her was also on a train." Harry looked reminiscing. "Just like when you came to find me on the train. But honestly, Cassandra's upbringing is far superior to yours. She never attacks a person's character or family background; at most, she'll mock me for being lazy and arrogant..."

Draco opened his mouth, unsure how to respond.

"Do you know why I beat you up back then?" Harry grinned wickedly.

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Because I was reminded of her," Harry said. "You have the same last name as her, the same hair, but you're really annoying, and my thought was to teach you a lesson for her."

"Uh, I'm really sorry." Draco scratched his head.

"Yes, you should feel sorry," Harry snorted. "Your so-called Pure-blood pride is completely different from what it was a hundred years ago—you know, your great-aunt's pride in Pure-blood was about taking on the responsibility of pure-blood wizard and taking care of Muggle-born wizard like me."

"Aren't you very strong? Why does she still...?" Draco asked curiously.

"That was a long time ago," Harry sighed. "Do you still have anything related to her in your house? I actually miss her a lot..."

"I don't know," Draco said, shaking his head. "No wonder you immediately realized that Merope wasn't Cassandra after Legilimency; you two were so close."

"Is that okay?" Harry thought for a moment. "Actually, she's always been quite disgusted with me."

"I don't think so, Harry," Draco suddenly said. "I think she must really like you, otherwise..."

"Otherwise what?" Harry asked.

"I can't really say, it's just a gut feeling," Draco said, shrugging.

Harry suddenly stopped and looked intently at Draco.

"The reason I'm telling you all this is because you're her junior. I hope you can be like her, proud yet principled, instead of just being so-called proud. I hope you're not beyond redemption and haven't wasted so much of my time today."

"I will, Harry," Draco said earnestly. "You're a legendary wizard—I'll definitely listen to you."

"Then," Harry asked again, "You should know Cassandra's father, right? Mr. Malfoy. Septimus Malfoy?"

"That was my great-great-grandfather," Draco replied. "You know him too?"

"This isn't my first time at the Malfoy Manor. The last time I came, the head of the Malfoy family was Mr. Malfoy. Septimus Malfoy," Harry replied. "I've heard that large families like yours often keep portraits of their ancestors. Do you have one of his portraits? I'd like to talk to him."

Draco immediately became excited upon hearing this.

Great! If we could meet my great-grandfather, that would definitely prove Harry's identity!

See!

We must take him to see him!

Thinking of this, Draco quickly said, "I know, he's in his room on the third floor. I'll take you to see him."

After saying that, Draco turned and left.

Harry chuckled. This impatient kid...

He followed Draco to a room on the third floor and pushed the door open.

Harry took out his wand and lit the lights in the room.

"I need to remind you that someone is sleeping here."

A familiar voice rang out, mellow and gentle.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry greeted him.

Upon hearing Harry's voice, there was a noticeable pause for a long time.

"That voice... sounds familiar?"

Harry walked over and came face to face with Septimus, who was sitting in a chair.

Septimus paused for a moment, then his eyes sharpened instantly.

"Potter!"

Harry let out a nasal "t" sound, almost bursting out laughing.

Well, as expected of the Malfoy family, even the pronunciation of "Potter" is so identical...

It's no wonder Septimus didn't recognize it at first, after all, the last time Harry visited the manor was during his fourth-year summer vacation.

But the moment Septimus saw Harry, he recognized who the boy in front of him was!

"Potter! Well... you dare to come to the Malfoy Manor?!" Mr. Septimus was clearly suppressing his anger, his platinum blonde hair even fluttering in the wind.

Draco lowered his head, revealing a "wow" expression as he watched the drama unfold.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said, somewhat surprised. "I didn't expect you to remember me, and even recognize me at a glance."

"Recognize you?" Septimus laughed, a pain in his eyes. "Potter, even if you turned to ashes, I'd still recognize you, you bastard! What kind of Potions did you give Cass that made her so possessed, wanting to travel through time to find you!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy." For once, Harry didn't retort; he was indeed in the wrong.

Because the person standing in front of him was none other than Mr. Septimus, a father who had lost his daughter.

"Sorry?!" Septimus's smile was tinged with sadness. "Can this really be resolved with just an apology? I've lost my daughter! My beloved daughter! She might very well be dead now, carrying with her that vague, unattainable goal!"

Harry opened his mouth, but he didn't know how to answer.

He could only lower his head and let Septimus scold him.

He didn't argue; he deserved it.

After a while, Septimus seemed to have calmed down a bit.

"What comforts me is that at least you, a Muggle-born, haven't been completely ungrateful and still remembered to come to the Malfoy Manor to visit me."

Mr. Septimus snorted, his eyes filled with displeasure at seeing the wild boar rooting up his cabbages.

"Uh, Mr. Septimus," Harry said suddenly, "I only just found out that I'm a member of the Potter Family, not from the Muggle world."

You know what, when Harry said those words, Septimus's whole demeanor changed.

"Ha, you mean, you're Potter Family kid?" Septimus stood up excitedly, pacing back and forth, muttering something to himself.

He wasn't happy because Harry "was a member of the Potter Family," but because Harry wasn't Muggle-born and was pure-blood wizard.

That's some consolation, I suppose.

"That's a silver lining in a bad situation, Potter," Mr. Septimus scoffed. "But that doesn't erase your irresponsibility—after you and Runcorn perished together, Cass seemed to go mad. She first begged me to introduce her to the Oracle Cassandra Trelawney to learn Prophecy, hoping to find out your whereabouts through Prophecy..."

"Oh, right." Septimus pointed behind the picture frame, "There's a letter that Cass received. Back then, she... well... never mind, read the letter yourself. If you have any conscience left, I believe you can help me find Cass's whereabouts."

Harry paused for a moment, then immediately used Transfiguration to conjure a stool, stepped on it, and reached behind the picture frame.

Sure enough, he touched an envelope.

He took it out, opened the envelope, sat on the stool, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

The writing on the paper was clearly wet and somewhat blurred, but it was still roughly legible. It read:

Miss Malfoy:

I regret to inform you that you have been dismissed from your apprenticeship.

I'm sorry, I misjudged your Divination potential. I hope you can understand that even the most brilliant Oracle make mistakes occasionally.

At least now you don't have to worry about your own dullness anymore, and you can pursue goals that are more suitable for you, such as weaving carpets.

Unfortunately, I don't know any carpet weavers, and I don't have time to write you a letter of recommendation.

Please return to Wiltshire as soon as you receive this letter.

Cassandra Trelawney

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