Cassandra walked into the feast, taking a breath as she did. She seemed very tired, and her eyes were red from crying. Another term over... and again... no wand. This must be some sort of record!

The first wand that had chosen her, her step-brother Shane burned, the second was broken by a muggle mob, the third was taken by that vile St. Toussaint in detention and never returned, and now her fourth wand... in the hands of that... that... THAT BUTTON PUSHER!!

She sat at the table and looked at the salad she had in front of her chair... she loved salad... but today... Today she was craving meat... and lots of it. She eyed the roast and then turned her nose up at it... that poor animal...

She forced herself to take the green beans... at least it was warm. And she filled her plate with it... then she took the corn and did the same... all the while eyeing the roast... She hoped that... that... THAT poor excuse for an assistant would not show... or else, show and apologize and return her wand.