Of all the lows in Cassia's life, she had to admit this was an all-time one.

She had never felt this terrible in her life.

It had been three months since she'd witnessed Snape kill Dumbledore. Three months since she'd betrayed her boyfriend and all her friends. Three months since she'd abandoned her old, good life in favour of this new, terrible one.

She missed Poppy, with her witty quips and pretty smile. She missed Ron's terrible jokes and Hermione's comical tellings off. She missed Pippa and Molly and Arthur.

But she missed Harry most of all.

Harry, and his stupidly pretty smile. Harry, and his eyes that had no business being that beautiful. Harry, and his loving words. Harry and his warm body.

Harry, who hated her right now. Harry, who knew what a traitor she was. Harry, who she had betrayed and lied to in the past year.

Every time she thought of him, her heart ached. She wanted to hug him again, to kiss him, to tell him she loved him, to do anything with him that involved him not hating her.

But he did hate her. He would. There was no way he wouldn't.

And if he didn't before, he definitely would now she was where she was.

It was currently mid July. A week and a half until Harry Potter's seventeenth birthday, to be exact.

But Cassia would not be spending it with him.

Currently, she was sitting at a long table in the dining room of Malfoy Manor. It wasn't home anymore to Cassia, despite the fact she'd spent seventeen years of her life there. She couldn't call it home.

Especially not when a death eater meeting resided there.

It was true. Right now, up and down that long table, sat a multitude of death eaters, some of whom Cassia had never met before. She knew her Aunt Bellatrix, of course, and Greyback, and Amycus and Alecto and Narcissa and Draco and her f-

Oh, right.

That was another thing that had come out of Dumbledore's death.

Lucius Malfoy was back.

Bruises on Cassia's face and arms had appeared almost instantly, as soon as he was back. She was lucky she was getting to sit at the table tonight, she'd been working so hard the past couple weeks. Her father coming back was probably the second worst thing that had happened to her in the past few months. Just.

But anyway, believe it or not, Lucius wasn't the scariest thing sat at the table. There were two more things, one a scary person, and one a scary thing.

The scary person was Voldemort. He, of course, was at the top of the table, and he was the most terrifying thing Cassia had ever seen.

She'd never come face to face with him before, but upon seeing him, she had no idea how Harry had been able to fight him and hold his nerve. His white face, red eyes, malevolent, chilling look. She hated it.

But the most scary thing in the room was the woman, hung above the table, in the middle of it. She was blonde, and she was bent over, hair falling down, tears on her cheeks.

Her name was Charity Burbage, and she taught muggle studies at Hogwarts.

Or she used to.

She had clearly been tortured within an inch of her life, just by the way her body was bending, the way she was slightly swinging, the way she was sniffling her tears. Cassia felt terrible for her, and wanted nothing more than to help her.

But then the green light would be flashing in her direction.

However, before Cassia could think about doing anything, the last piece of the puzzle arrived. Snape, walking with dignity up the stairs. Upon seeing him, Cassia's whole body felt weak. She hated him, absolutely hated him. He'd betrayed Dumbledore.

But she'd betrayed her friends, too.

"Severus," Voldemort turned to face him. "I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come. We've saved you a seat."

Snape walked forward, sitting down at the seat right in Voldemort's pocket.

"You bring news, I trust?" The man asked.

"It will happen Saturday next at nightfall," Snape told him.

They're talking about when Harry's going to leave the Dursley's, Cassia realised. And if it's next Saturday, it's happening before he turns seventeen.

"I've heard differently, My Lord," Yaxley spoke up. "Dawlish, the auror, has let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the thirtieth of this month. The day before he turns seventeen."

"This is a false trail," Snape raised his voice. "The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry."

"Well," a man called Dolohov smirked. "They've got that right, haven't they?"

There were resounding laughs from all up and down. Not a single Malfoy moved a muscle.

"What say you, Pius?" Voldemort asked, turning his attention to the up and coming Minister for Magic, Pius Thicknesse, who was entirely under the imperius curse.

The man himself looked at Voldemort, taking a moment to think about his answer. "One hears many things, My Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear."

"Spoken like a true politician," Voldemort laughed openly. "You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius."

He then turned to Snape again. "Where will he be taken, the boy?"

"To a safe house," Snape answered. "Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I'm told it's been given every manner of protection possible. Once there, it will be impractical to attack him."

Bellatrix cleared her throat. "My Lord. I'd like to volunteer myself for this task. I want to kill the boy."

There was suddenly a small wail from Professor Burbage above the table, and Voldemort snapped towards the servant in the corner. "WORMTAIL! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest quiet?"

"Er- yes, My Lord, sorry, My Lord," Wormtail, or rather, Peter Pettigrew, said, hurrying to do so.

Voldemort dismissed this, turning to Bellatrix. "As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter."

No. Harry Potter must be the one to kill you.

"But, I face an unfortunate complication," Voldemort stood from his chair. "That my wand and Potter's share the same core. They are, in some ways... twins. We can wound but not fatally harm one another."

He lay his own wand upon the dark table, and walked along the lines of people. "If am the one to kill him, I must do it with another's wand."

As he walked behind them all, he hissed. "Come... surely one of you would like the honour? Hmm?" He then turned, seeing his eyes on one person. "What about you... Lucius?"

Cassia felt like smirking at the look on her father's face, but she didn't. She just watched as he looked up at him. "My Lord?"

"My Lord?" Voldemort mocked, thrusting a hand forward. "I require your wand."

Lucius took a deep breath in, trying to control himself, before handing Voldemort his very own wand.

"Do I detect... elm?" He asked, inspecting it.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Ah," Voldemort nodded, before lifting a second hand and snapping the wand from its handle. Lucius winced, squeezing his eyes shut, but the man above him payed no attention. "And the core?"

"Dragon heartstring, My Lord," Lucius answered.

"Dragon heartstring," Voldemort repeated. "Mm-hmm."

He wasted no time in throwing the broken handle to the table with a clatter, and straightening up, gesturing, finally, to the woman hanging above them.

"To those of you who do not know, we are joined tonight by Miss Charity Burbage, who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry," he announced. "Her speciality was muggle studies."

There was a light laughter, but Cassia wasn't a part of it. She kept her eyes to the ground, trying desperately not to let tears fill them.

Voldemort continued. "It is Miss Burbage's belief that muggles... are not so different from us. She would, given her way... have us mate with them."

There were a few retching sounds and more laughter, which almost tipped Cassia over the edge.

"To her, the mixture of magical and muggle blood is not an abomination... but something to be celebrated," Voldemort told them, sitting back down.

Then, Charity spoke. She was crying, and there was a wound on her face, but she spoke anyway, her voice nothing more than a whisper. "Severus! S-Severus, please-"

She sobbed harder. "We're friends!"

Snape just stared at her, not replying. Voldemort almost smiled.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Charity Burbage didn't even scream as she fell, she didn't have time to. She was dead before she hit the table.

All Voldemort did, however, was stroke his pet snake, hissing. "Nagini... dinner."

Cassia tried not to look at the snake as it slithered onto and up the table. She tried not to think about how terrible it was.

As the snake pounced, she closed her eyes.

And wished for one person to come to her.

Harry, please.

❦︎❦︎❦︎

Far away from Malfoy Manor, in a little house on Privet Drive, a certain Harry Potter was wishing for her to come to him.

"Where's Cass?" Was the first thing he'd asked Poppy when he saw her.

She just looked down, pressing her lips together. "We, um... we haven't managed to see her."

Harry had read Cassia's letter more than five times a day since he'd first seen it. It never left him, and was always in his pocket, right near him. He wasn't letting it slip away from him, it was the only bit of her he had left.

And now he knew he wasn't going back to Hogwarts... he just had to keep it.

"She'll be fine," Poppy assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

But deep down, he knew that wasn't necessarily true.

And he just wanted to kiss her once more, to hold her in his arms.

He needed it.

❦︎❦︎❦︎

Since she and her mother weren't actual death eaters, Cassia and Narcissa had not been positioned out in the sky to fight Harry and the aurors attempting to protect him. Lucius also had not, because he didn't have a wand.

But, of course, he didn't for long.

He took Cassia's.

Almost as soon as the death eater meeting had ended, and Cassia was in her room, really trying not to cry, he burst in.

"Your wand," he said, standing above her. "Give it to me."

"What?" Cassia frowned, tightening her grip on her wand.

"Your wand," her father snarled. "Give."

"No-" Cassia started-

SLAP!

She didn't even cry out anymore, as his flattened palm struck her cheek. She had even come to expect it.

"I SAID, GIVE ME YOUR WAND, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Her father had yelled, stealing it off her before she could say anything.

So now it was Cassia who did not have a wand, not her father.

However, that night, as she washed dishes in the kitchen (Wormtail was Voldemort's servant, not the Malfoys') she did overhear a conversation that made her blood boil.

Voldemort hadn't dropped in that night, so it was only death eaters, but that didn't mean there wasn't action.

"We got one!" A voice was yelling, very excitedly. "We got Mad-Eye Moody! The Dark Lord hit him with a killing curse, I saw!"

Cassia wanted to cry and scream at the same time.

They got Mad-Eye. Mad-Eye's dead.

"Yes, but, did you get Potter?" Her father was snarling.

"No, there was fucking seven of them!" The man replied.

Seven Harrys? The f-?

"Seven of them?" Her mother's voice cut in.

"Yeah, a bunch of the Order had taken polyjuice potion to look like him, and confuse us!"

Cassia's heart ached. She could've done that. She could've been part of the good side, the side that fought Voldemort.

But she made all the wrong choices.

"Well, at least you got someone," Lucius sighed. "No more are dead?"

"Nah, I think Severus cursed the Weasley boy's ear off, though," the man laughed. "He was in a right state, but no more dead."

"Okay, well... thank you for letting us know," Lucius nodded. "See you soon, Rowle."

As her father walked this Rowle out, Cassia stood by the sink, her body jerking with each sob.

And her tears filling up the basin.