musical mood: the last great american dynasty - taylor swift

Apparently, being poisoned and subsequently rendered unconscious for three months was a lot to recover from, even with countless magical remedies. Cass found herself ailed with aches and pains all over her body through the last few days at Hogwarts - though luckily, her professors let her off the hook for everything she had missed, even Snape, though she suspected not by his own will. Someone else probably made him. Maybe the Professors felt the need to make it up to her - standing by while their co-worker to nearly murder a twelve year old certainly wasn't something they'd want weighing on their conscious, even if it wasn't their fault.

The train ride back to Kings Cross was uneventful. She spent most of it reading the book gifted to her by George and Fred - no one else seemed to know what to talk about. Even talkative Naia was speechless on the ride back home. Cass liked it that way, she had no desire to speak of what happened, and was thankful none of her friends did either.

By the time she found Winky hidden in the crowd of parents waiting to pick up their children, and was apparated back to Stromness, the sun was beginning to set, and aches shot through her bones once again. Her father, as usual, was nowhere to be seen, and had she not been in so much pain, Cass would've kicked something. He didn't visit her when she had woken up, after being on her deathbed, nor had he even sent something material such as flowers. Heck, Cedric Diggory gave her a bloody bouquet of roses, and she barely knew him!

Ana insisted he had been there when the news first got out about her poisoning, and he'd seemed really concerned, but Cass doubted that. She was probably just trying to make her feel better, and Cass couldn't fault her for that. Bloody Ana. Truly, how was she so damn sweet?

Her summer was spent as they usually were - hoping between spending time with Connor, and reading in her room. Bartemius was rarely home, and Winky seemed overwhelmed with whatever it was she did, which would've left Cass a perfect opportunity to read the apparently illegal Blood Magic, but instead, she kept it buried in the bottom of her trunk. Quirrell was the last thing she wanted to think about, and that book, along with the polaroids and letters, were certainly not going to help her forget. So, away they went. Out of sight, out of mind.

Instead, she found herself diving into all the books on potions she could get her hands on, which was a lot. She was already one of, if not the best in her year in the subject, but clearly that meant nothing if she couldn't even recognize a poison being slipped to her.

She learned that an amateur Veritaserum would have a slight lemon smell, that a stone from a goat's stomach called a bezoar could save your life from nearly any poison, and that it was often impossible to trace a poison back to the person who brewed it, making remote assassinations relatively easy. Cass decided she'd carry bezoar around wherever she went - once she found out where to get one, that is, given their rarity.

Hopefully, until then, there'd be no more attempts on her life. She couldn't imagine there would be, but it didn't shake her paranoia. Some of the effects still hadn't worn off, and Cass began to fear they never would. Her voice, which had previously been smooth and clear, was now deep and raspy, like a middle-aged cigarette addict might sound. She had a new scar too, a long, thick one on the left side of her forehead, where she had scraped it against Myrtle's stupid sink.

Nothing felt more awful than the emotional scars left, though. Cass fell into a cycle of blaming everyone around her, then blaming herself, then pretending she wasn't bothered at all, then remembering everything, the emotions behind it all, and repeating the cycle all over again. She wanted to blame Quirrell - and she did, partially. Even if he had been possessed by The Voice, he had apparently made some sort of deal with it, meaning his actions couldn't have been entirely unwilling. She blamed her father, too. Of course, it had never been confirmed, but she was certain he had been acting so weird the year prior because of Quirrell - there was no other explanation she could think of, at least. None that she wanted to dwell on, not now. What kind of father would allow his daughter to be around a man like that?

Then, of course, she turned it onto herself. Everything was her fault, it always was. Had she kept her nose out of other people's business, she wouldn't have been poisoned. Had she realised The Voice was possessing the Professor, maybe she could've found a solution. Or, if she had gone to Dumbledore with her suspicions, begged him to believe her, got onto her knees and bloody prayed to him like the God everyone acted like he was, maybe Quirrell wouldn't be dead.

The weight of a man's death on her shoulders was the worst part of it all. Who cared that she'd been poisoned, when someone was dead, and it was her fault.

Those feelings usually lingered the longest, until she somehow convinced herself it didn't matter anymore. It was in the past, so why did she care about finding blame? She'd survived, she'd moved on, there was nothing else needed to discuss. Until, of course, she'd have a nightmare about being in Myrtle's bathroom, or her 'not purgatory' with Barty, and Quirrell's ghost haunting her, and the cycle would repeat.

It didn't help that starting in mid-July, Connor and his family had taken a long trip to Ireland, to stay with family there, leaving Cass even more isolated than usual. Of course, she couldn't speak of her issues with Connor, statue of secrecy or whatever, but being with him always helped her out of her thoughts.

As June, which blended into July passed over, and early August began, Cass' mundane summer was finally interrupted by the means of Padma and Parvati Patil, inviting her to spend a week in London, where they were also planning a vacation.

"I'm going to a friend's place for a few days, in case you or father actually care." Cass informed Winky as she hauled her packed bag to the fireplace. Her tone was dry and words needlessly rude, not hiding the fact that she was irritated with the elf, who had recently been just as absent as her father. Never before had she been upset with Winky, but now looking at her just made her angry.

Before Winky could harass her, Cass grabbed a generous handful of floo powder, throwing it into the fireplace while saying the address she had been given by the twins. In an instant, she was gone, leaving no sign that she had ever returned to Stromness in the first place.

*

The Patils were rich. Cass could've guessed as much, considering the twins' high class accents, and general auras of sophistication, but never could she have imagined just how loaded they were. When she had heard about a vacation in London, she assumed a manky hotel, or perhaps at a relatives home, but no. They managed to rent out an apartment the size of a bloody manor in the middle of Westminster, as if it were nothing. Whatever wealth they had stored up was surely enough to rival the Malfoy's, though no one would have guessed, based on how modest Padma and Parvati were.

"It's lovely to meet you, Cass." Their mother, Kina, shook her hand gently. She had a faded Indian accent, and smelled of roses. "We've heard so much about you."

"Thanks for having me, Mrs. Patil." A genuine smile formed on her lips, probably the first real smile she'd had in months.

"Of course, dear, and please, just call me Kina. No need for formalities here!"

Kina led Cass to the lavish city gardens across the street (yes, they had gardens here), where Padma and Parvati were, also accompanied by Lavender. The three were engrossed in a loud conversation about boys, of all things, when Cass sat down at the bench, somewhat regretting her choice to come. Boy talk was her least favourite topic, though she worried as she grew older, her friends would grow more and more obsessed with it. By the looks of it, her worries had been correct.

"I mean, sure, he's cute I guess, but his personality is complete shit! Seriously, Lav, what are you thinking with him? Oh, hi Cass!" Parvati greeted her with a bright smile and a wave.

"Hi. Er, who are you talking about?"

"Draco Malfoy." Padma rolled her eyes. "Apparently Lavender fancies him."

"I do not fancy him!" Lavender insisted, her face going bright red. "I just said he isn't sore on the eyes, is all."

Cass snorted, shaking her head. "Trust me, you want nothing to do with Malfoy. He's a prat through and through."

"Exactly what I said!" Parvati threw her arms in the air, exasperated. "He's such a dick. Seriously, you should've heard what he said to Terry Boot back in May!"

"Then who do you fancy, Parvati, since you're so judgey about it?" Lavender eyed her, and Parvati bit her lip. Padma shifted, and a momentarily silence passed between the girls.

"No one. You know that." Parvati finally said.

"Aren't we a bit young for fancying people, anyways?" Cass sighed. They were only twelve, after all. Why did they suddenly care about boys?

Lavender just shrugged, smirking. "You're one to talk! You clearly have a boyfriend!"

"I what?!"

"Whoever you got that letter from on your birthday, you're certainly dating! Or at least fancy - you were all smiley after!"

Cass raised her eyebrows, bemused at the idea of her and Connor being anything other than best friends. That would be less likely than her dating the Giant Squid. "That was from my muggle friend back home. I've known him since I was eight - he's like a brother, to me, and I hadn't heard from him in ages. Of course I was going to be all smiley!"

"Him." Lavender nudged her with a smirk, and she just rolled her eyes.

Mr. and Mrs. Patil - Sai and Kina, as they wanted her to refer to them, took them all out for dinner at a muggle restaurant called The Goring Dining Hall. Naturally, it was the fanciest place Cass had ever seen, which certainly said something. She tried to pay for her meal, but the Patil's wouldn't allow it, saying guests shouldn't have to pay a dime, especially children. Cass wanted to insist - it was her fathers money after all - but it seemed to make the Patil's happy to pay for everyone, so she allowed them to do so.

"So, Cass," Sai began from across the table, after a long conversation about how Lavender kept her hair so pristine. Apparently, she had hair products imported from Saudi Arabia. "We heard you had quite a scare last year. How are you doing now?"

"Dad!" Padma hissed, glaring at her father. "She probably doesn't want to talk about it!"

"It's alright." Cass said softly, despite Padma being correct. That was the last thing she wanted to talk about. The boy talk from earlier would've been better than this. But, instead, she lied through her teeth, to not make Mr. Patil feel bad. "I'm doing much better, thanks."

"Wonderful." He smiled at her, and Cass assumed he was done speaking. But no, no one ever was. "I work with your father, you know. Well, I did, a couple years back, when he was in the running for Minister. I was part of his campaign team. Bartemius is a brilliant man, truly. People don't give him enough credit, it seems. Fudge especially."

Cass nodded, looking down at her plate, willing for Sai to shut up.

"How is he? It's been ages since I've spoken to him."

"Wouldn't know. I haven't seen him all summer."

Sai laughed, surely thinking she was joking, though the twins and Lavender suddenly seemed uncomfortable. At this point, everyone even moderately close to Cass knew that the topic of her family was off limits, even if they weren't aware of her brother. "He's a busy man."

Too busy to see his daughter after she'd nearly died. Cass wanted to say as she poked her lasagne with her fork. Too busy to keep an eye on her.

The rest of their meal was eaten in moderate silence, with Sai forcing conversation. The more he talked, the more Cass realised how odd he was. He didn't quite seem to understand boundaries, and spoke too much about skincare, giving Lavender the brand of his ten step muggle skincare routine he had ordered from Japan. Of course, Cass never said anything about how off-putting he was, and she felt awful for even thinking badly of him - he'd brought her to bloody Westminster, after all, one of the most expensive cities in all of Great Britain!

After dinner, they took a double decker bus back to where they were staying, and planned what they wanted to do over the week. Parvati, being anything but consistent in her personality, wanted to visit the Tower of London, and see where Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard were beheaded. Apparently, not only was she a lover of anything dark and disturbing, like men executing their wives, but she was also a Tudor era history nerd.

Lavender, on the other hand, had her heart set on seeing Buckingham Palace, and had somehow convinced herself she'd run into the Queen herself, and Elizabeth would adore her so much she'd arrange her be married to Prince William once they were old enough, and Lavender would spend the rest of her life in the lavish lifestyle of the royals.

Padma just wanted to ride around on the double decker buses.

When they got back to the massive apartment, Cass wasted no time going into the bathroom and changing into her pyjamas, desperate to get away from any more discussions of her father and the events that had taken place on her birthday. She stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, glaring at her reflection, at the stupid scar on her forehead, larger and wider than the one under her eye, at the dark circles that never seemed to go away. She must've looked like some sort of preteen gangster, compared to Westminster's glamorous locals.

By the time she entered the room she was sharing with the other three girls, the sun had completely set. Lavender was absentmindedly brushing Parvati's hair, while Padma flipped through a tourism brochure she had picked up at a convenience store. Originally, there had only been one single bed, but by the grace of magic, Kina had extended the room and multiplied the bed, so now there was one for each of them. Of course, she'd have to bring the room back to normal size when they left, but she insisted it was perfectly legal.

"Merlin, what took you so long, Cass?" Lavender looked up, brush in hand. "I was beginning to think you were dead!"

"Lav!" Parvati elbowed her. "Don't talk like that!"

"Sorry, Cass."

Cass pursed her lips, sitting down on her bed. "You lot don't have to do that, you know?"

"Do what?" A crease formed in Parvati's otherwise smooth forehead.

"Walk on eggshells around me. I'm not made of glass, and I'm not going to have a breakdown because you made a joke."

"Are you sure?" Lavender stared at her, eyes wide with worry, and Cass couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, it's just...we figured you might be in a bad mood, because our dad brought up your dad. It's obvious you don't like to talk about your family." Parvati shifted, straightening her posture. "Sorry about that, by the way. Dad is great, really, but he doesn't really know how to shut up."

"It's alright, don't worry about it. I can't avoid the subject of my family, no matter how badly I might want to. It's just reality." Cass insisted with a shrug, mostly as a formality, but the words rung true in her head as she spoke. The Crouch name was forever tainted, and would always hold a reputation, which Cass would just have to get used to.

Everyone already seemed to know about Bartemius's neglect, despite Cass never airing her grievances to anyone, and most of the purebloods at Hogwarts were very much aware of her brother. Bethany certainly knew, and had no problem hanging it over her head when it suited her, or when she wanted to get a rise out of her.

Had she told the twins and Lavender? Was she planning on it?

If Bethany hadn't, Cass knew it was only a matter of time before it came out, one way or another, be it some Hogwarts student spreading gossip, or Sai's loose lips. The conversation at dinner easily could've turned to Barty, just like anything could.

All Cass ever wanted to keep her family secrets buried so deep that she didn't ever have to think about them, but she knew that was impossible. It was inevitable, someday, be it soon or far in the future, word would spread to her friends. As Cass thought about it, she wanted to be in charge of that, be in charge of her narrative. She didn't want the people she cared for to find out from anyone but her, on her terms.

If they hated her after, so be it. At least she would know.

"Guys," Cass said after many moments of silence. Lavender had gone back to brushing Parvati's hair, and Padma was now reading a different brochure - she seemed to have a collection of them. They all looked up at her, all wearing passive smiles. "Do you mind if I tell you something?"