[Books in Books] Cassidy Blake - Victoria Schwab

Right, I've thought about how to go about this; the amount of references definitely tops most of the [food in books] posts, which featured one single book per post. On the other hand, I honestly thought it's quite abnormal to so heavily reference another fandom, to a point that I don't really want to spend more posts documenting this phenomenon lmao. I guess this will even out those really short food posts I have out there, bahahaha. Feel free to let me know if I missed any!

City of Ghosts (Cassidy Blake, #1)

• Ch. 6
• And then the luggage starts tumbling out onto the carousel, and the first thing I see isn’t the red and yellow stripes of my suitcase (yes, I’m a Gryffindor), but the boy riding cross-legged on top of it. He loves making an entrance.

• Ch. 7
• The Lane’s End reminds me of that scene in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, where Harry arrives at the Order’s headquarters—which is actually Sirius Black’s house—but it’s hidden by a spell. One of the wizards taps on the stones out front, and the buildings slide apart to reveal the headquarters sandwiched between.

• Ch. 8
• I brace myself for something creepy or ghoulish, but Mom leads me down the road to a place called the Elephant House, a bright red café with a banner that proudly announces:
  Birthplace of Harry Potter
  “No way,” I say, following her inside.
  I’m in awe as Mom and I explore the café.
  Apparently, it was here at the Elephant House where author J. K. Rowling—the J. K. Rowling—dreamed up Harry, and Hermione, and Ron.
  Here, she sat at one of the wooden tables and created Hogwarts, and Azkaban, and Diagon Alley.
  Here, she invented Quidditch, and the Triwizard Tournament, and the Deathly Hallows.

• Ch. 11
• Findley is waiting for us in the sitting room. He’s a stocky man with a trim beard and a bald patch in the middle of his red curls that makes it look like he’s wearing a crown. He reminds me a little of a redheaded Hagrid.

• Ch. 16
• “Are you a fan of Harry Potter?” I ask her.
  “Are you asking because I’m English?”
  “No,” I say, “I’m asking because it’s Harry Potter and it’s amazing. And the author wrote the books here!”
  Lara lifts her chin. “Well, the history of the Elephant House is contested among locals.” She hesitates, adding, “But I’ve always fancied myself a Ravenclaw.”
  “So you are a fan!”
  She cuts a sideways glance at me. “Let me guess, you’re a Gryffindor.”
  I beam. “How did you know?”
  She looks me up and down. “Reckless, headstrong, most likely to charge into a situation unprepared.” The edge of a smile. “Plus, you’re wearing a red and yellow Hogwarts sweatshirt.”

• Ch. 19
• We cut through the nearest building, which, according to the banner on the wall, is the Great Hall. My first thought is that it looks like the dining hall straight out of Harry Potter.
  “Pigworts!” announces Jacob triumphantly. “Broom ball! Crowpuff!”
  He’s never actually read the books, which he knows drives me crazy, but he also knows I don’t have time to sit and turn ten thousand pages for him, so I broke down and showed him the movies.
  “It’s like that scene with Tumbledore and the Magic Hat!” he exclaims gleefully.

• Ch. 21
• “Why are you here?” I ask.
  He looks around fondly. “Suppose I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
  “And Lara lets you stay?”
  He chuckles softly. “We all need someone who sees us clearly.”
  Huh. Maybe Lara has a soft spot after all.
  “And maybe I’m Skull Shooter,” says Jacob. “No offense, Cass, but I don’t care about Lara’s inner Hufflepuff. I care about getting your life back, and to do that, we need to find her.”

• Ch. 23
• The girl is tall and blond, in jeans and a sweatshirt and a Slytherin scarf. She looks like she could have walked straight out of the Elephant House.

Tunnel of Bones (Cassidy Blake, #2)

• Ch. 2
• Calling the Tuileries a garden is like calling Hogwarts a school.
  It’s technically correct, but the word really doesn’t do either one justice.

• Ch. 7
• Confession: I don’t love heights. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m afraid of them, but I’ll never be the girl standing on the ledge, arms spread wide, like that moment in Harry Potter when Harry rides a hippogriff for the first time (movie edition, obviously).

• Ch. 8
• “Are those … Harry Potter pajamas?” I ask.
  She looks down at herself. “Just because they’re blue and bronze—”
  “They’re totally Harry Potter pajamas, aren’t they?”
  Lara bristles. “They’re comfortable. If they just happen to accurately represent my chosen house—”

• Ch. 11
• “You speak French?” I cut in.
  “Of course,” says Lara briskly. “And German. They make us take two foreign languages in school. I also know a little Punjabi, thanks to my dad. My parents say language is the most valuable currency. Don’t you know any other language?”
  “I know how to ask for the bathroom in Spanish,” offers Jacob.
  “Um.” I chew my lip. “I memorized all the incantations in Harry Potter.” I look at Jacob. “And I can speak to ghosts.”
  “Obviously not,” says Lara, “or you wouldn’t need me to translate. Look, until we find out who this poltergeist is—was—you don’t stand a chance of winning.”

• Ch. 22
• Jacob covers his eyes, as if he can’t look.
  Unfortunately, I have to.
  I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, I think as I pluck Catacombs data card from its slot in the foam and slip it into my back pocket.
  “Some days I really wish you were Slythercore instead of Gryffindot,” mutters Jacob.
  “No, you don’t,” I say, freeing the reel of film marked CAT. “And one of these days I’m going to make you read Harry Potter.” I turn the plastic case over in my hands.

• Ch. 27
• Back at the Hotel Valeur, I take a really, really hot shower, trying to rinse the Catacombs from my skin. I towel off and slide on a pair of red-and-yellow pajamas, feeling like I’ve earned my Gryffindor colors tonight.
• Adele is dressed in the same gold sneakers and jeans, along with a red-and-yellow sweatshirt, the house emblem over her heart.
  Of course. She’s a Gryffindor.

• Ch. 28
• “And then, after I met you, and I could leave … I was— I guess I was afraid of seeing them without me. Afraid it would hurt too much. Afraid I would get stuck there. Like the Mirror of Erisorn.”
  I stifle a laugh. “Erised.” That’s the mirror in Harry Potter that shows someone what they want most, but Dumbledore warned Harry that people could waste away in front of it.
  Jacob manages a small smile. “Yeah. Like that.” He looks down. “I really should read those books.”
  “You really should.”

Bridge of Souls (Cassidy Blake, #3)

• Ch. 2
• The memory alone is enough to make me shiver. Back in Paris, when the stranger in the skull mask looked at me from across the platform, it was like they looked straight through me. Like I was a nice warm room, until they threw the windows open, and then everything went cold. In that moment, I had never felt so sick, so scared, so alone.
  “Like a Demental,” says Jacob.
  I blink, dragging my attention back. “What?” I ask.
  “You know, the creepy wraithlike monsters in Harry Potter who suck out your life, eat all your joy, and leave you cold.”
  Oh. He means Dementor.
  Jacob has never actually read the books, so his knowledge is made up entirely of movie snippets and my constant references—but for once, he’s almost right.
  It was kind of like that. Like I looked darkness in the eye, and it ate up all the light inside me. But Dementors aren’t real, and whatever that thing was, back in Paris, it was. At least, I think it was.
• Jacob and Lara don’t exactly get along. You could say it’s a difference of temperament—Jacob’s all Gryffindor, and Lara’s undeniably Ravenclaw—but it’s more complicated than that.

• Ch. 13
• The Thread & Bone is a voodoo shop.
  Or at least, it’s made to look like one. Every inch of space is covered in candles and crystals and charms. Silk scarves, and jars of oil. It looks like something out of Diagon Alley, and I have to remind myself that Harry Potter is fantasy, and this is real.

• Ch. 17
• Lara and I exchange a look.
  “Actually,” she says, putting on her best grown-up voice, “Cass invited me to spend the night and my aunt agreed. If that’s all right with you.”
  I exhale a little, trying to hide my relief. “That’s really nice of your aunt,” I say.
  “I know.” Lara smiles. “She’s very thoughtful.”
  Mom wavers. “It’s fine with us,” she says, “but I really would feel better if we called her to check.”
  I hold my breath, waiting for Lara’s lie to fall apart, but she just nods and says, “Of course,” before pulling out her phone. It rings and rings, and I wonder if she’s called a real number at all when a voice answers.
  “Hello! Hello! Thread and Bo—”
  “Aunt Philly!” Lara calls in a bright, chiming voice. “It’s me, Lara.”
  I can just make out Philippa’s whimsical voice on the other end. “Well, hello again.”
  “Cassidy’s parents want to make sure I’m safe and sound, and that you’re okay with me spending the night. Will you speak to them?”
  Lara hands the phone to Mom, shooting me a mischievous look. I can’t help but wonder if Lara has a little bit of Slytherin mixed in with all that Ravenclaw.

• Ch. 21
• “Hold out your hand, Cass.”
  I do, expecting her to put the red thread in my palm, but instead, she wraps it several times around my wrist.
  “It’s easy to get lost in the space between worlds,” she says. “It’s like dreaming. Sometimes you forget what is and isn’t real.” She ties the ends into a knot. “This should help you remember.”
  I think of Neville Longbottom and his Remembrall, the way it turned red whenever he forgot something. The trouble, of course, was he could never remember what it was he forgot.
  But all I say is “Thanks.”

• Ch. 26
• We’re on our second order of beignets when Lara shows up, Philippa in tow.
  Lucas’s eyes widen. Philippa looks a little surprised, too, but it’s more of a happy surprise, like waking up to pancakes. Or beignets.
  “This is my aunt Philly,” says Lara, and I almost laugh.
  Lara and Philippa could not possibly be more different. Lara’s prim, straight-backed, and all adult attitude in a kid’s body. Philippa, on the other hand, is like Luna Lovegood in a grown-up’s shell. Cheerful, whimsical, and not entirely there. She’s wearing a tie-dyed blue-and-white dress that looks like a giant version of the evil eye, and a pair of neon-orange sunglasses.
  Mom looks between them, a bit skeptical, and I can’t blame her.