Cassian POV
The air in the common room was stagnant, smelling of old parchment and the dying embers of the hearth. It was late afternoon, that precarious slice of time where the shadows began to stretch and claw at the stone walls. Elliot's form didn't just tremble; it vibrated with a frantic, jagged energy as his knuckles turned white against the edges of the Daily Prophet.
BEAST ATTEMPTS MURDER ON MALFOY HEIR UNDER THE WATCH OF HALF-GIANT! the headline screamed in bold, aggressive ink. THE PEOPLE DEMAND JUSTICE!
I watched him from the shadows of a wingback chair, my own expression a mask of clinical detachment. Elliot was a soul stitched together by the quiet rhythms of the earth; he spoke to the moss in the crevices of the castle and understood the language of the wind. To see him this way—his breathing shallow, his eyes darting across the slandering text—was like watching a peaceful forest catch fire.
Tobias shifted, his chair creaking on the dark ebony floor. He reached out a hesitant hand. "Elliot... maybe... maybe you need to calm down," he said, the words landing like lead.
Elliot's gaze snapped upward. It wasn't the timid look we were used to. It was a blaze of raw, unfiltered fury. "Calm down?" he seethed. "CALM DOWN!"
The outburst hit the room like a physical shock. Elliot stood up so violently his chair shrieked against the wood. So violently even I was momentarily surprised though it did not show on my face nor in my eyes. "I need to talk to Hagrid," he muttered. He didn't just discard the paper; he flung it into the blazing fireplace, watching the ink curl and blacken before he turned for the door, his robes flaring behind him like dying embers.
"Move," I commanded the others. We followed him through the crowded halls, eventually arriving at Hagrid's hut, panting after the chase. We burst inside to find the "Golden Trio" and Harper Potter already huddled around the table.
"Hagrid..." Elliot's voice was breathless. "Tell me it's not true. They don't want to just execute the beast! They're trying to undermine you! They want you out of the Care of Magical Creatures position! Possibly because of your heritage!"
Hagrid was a mountain of sorrow, buried under unicorn-hair quilts. He didn't speak; he just shook his bearded head, a low, wet sound escaping his throat.
"It's true," Hermione said, her voice small. "They're demanding execution for the Hippogriff and a formal dismissal for Hagrid."
"There has to be something we can do!" Harry burst out, his eyes burning with reckless Potter fire. "We could talk to Mum and Dad. They're in the Ministry. Dad has a seat on the Wizengamot—they could help!"
"Fool," I said. The word cut through the emotional clutter like a razor. Harry's eyes locked onto mine, widening slightly and blazing at the insult. "I said you're a fool." I repeated. "There is no guarantee they could stop this. Why would they? In the calculus of politics, spending social capital on a beast yields a zero return. It's a sentimental suicide mission."
"Not everything is about profit, Orion!" Elliot snapped, his voice trembling.
I shrugged, glancing at the window where the sun was beginning to dip. "The universe doesn't run on sentiment, Elliot. It runs on balance."
Elliot stepped toward me, his eyes glowing with a fervor I'd never seen. "You could help. Don't lie to me. The Rowles said that the shop you work at...has 'influence.' Can't you help?"
I frowned. "Elliot..."
"Can you help or not?" he demanded.
"I don't do anything without a return," I said plainly.
It was my armor.
"That is so selfish of you!" Elliot spat, the words hitting me with more force than a hex. "A life is on the line, Hagrid's heart is breaking, and you're standing there calculating interest? I thought you were different, Orion. I thought you were philosophical because you cared about the world, not because you wanted to own it."
My patience snapped.
"You want me to be a martyr for a bird, Elliot? You want me to risk the tiny bit of stability I've clawed out of the dirt for a creature that would eat you if you didn't bow properly?"
"I want you to be a human being!" Elliot roared, stepping into my personal space. "Just for once, stop acting like a machine and look at the pain around you!"
"I've spent my entire life looking at pain!" I hissed back, my voice low and dangerous. I felt the phantom sting of my father's belt, the cold silence of the cellar where I'd been locked for disobedience. "I survived because I learned that pain is a variable you account for, not a reason to lose your mind. And you think I'm going to throw away my leverage for nothing? You're so pathetic, Elliot. You're so wrapped up in your little 'nature' and 'feelings' that you don't realize you're just a soft target waiting to be crushed. No one in the real word cares!"
I took a step closer, my silver eye boring into his. "The only reason you can afford to be this 'moral' is because the so called heartless people do the ugly math for you. You're a parasite of conscience."
Elliot's face went white. He didn't flinch, but his eyes glazed over with a profound, quiet disappointment that was worse than any scream. "You're right," he whispered, his voice devoid of any warmth. "I am a fool. I thought there was a heart buried under all that 'geometry.' But you're just a hollow shell, Orion. There is no heart in you. You're just... empty."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Elliot turned his back on me completely, moving to Hagrid's side and resting a hand on the giant's shoulder. He didn't look at me again. He didn't even acknowledge I was in the room. The exclusion was physical, a wall of ice built in seconds.
Harper's heart clenched as she watched the rift.
Minutes passed like a bomb.
I was still fuming at the damn audacity to question my methods when he hadn't seen the truth of the world.
Soft hearts died early.
"You know," Harper began, her voice desperate and shaking, slightly. Perhaps trying to fill a void and fix a cut line. "If you really can help... we could give you something in return."
My gaze snapped to hers, my heart still hammering against my ribs from the adrenaline of the fight. "What could you possibly give me?"
The Gryffindors went silent.
I remembered something.
"Actually," I said, my voice dropping. "You have an Invisibility Cloak, don't you?"
Ron gasped. "How do you even know about that?"
"I guarantee I can save the Hippogriff. In return, I want to study that cloak."
Harry and Harper exchanged looks, then glanced at Elliot. He remained hunched over Hagrid, refusing to even acknowledge my presence. His silence was a scream of judgment. I felt his mocking voice in my mind.
Heartless.
They slowly, solemnly, nodded.
I said nothing. I breathed out through my nose and swept out of the hut. As I walked back up the hill, the guilt was a dull ache. But beneath it was a faint, unmistakable excitement.
I had struck a bargain for the Cloak.
But as I looked back at the hut, I realized the cost was higher than I'd anticipated.