musical mood: generation - triples

The owls came in early on Christmas morning, bearing all sorts of odd gifts and waking her up from a dream about the heir of Slytherin being George Weasley, and he went around petrifying people while he wore Cass's father's top hat.

This time around for Christmas, Cass had thought in advance, and bought each one of her Hogwarts friends a gift as well, not just Connor.

She received two chocolates frog from the Nott brothers, more mood-enhancing gemstones from the Patil's, a fancy brush that apparently washed and dried your hair while brushing it from Lavender, a pair of earrings from Naia, and, her personal favourite, from George and Fred; a copy of Pride and Prejudice. She bit down on her lip, grinning, when reading the message they'd scribbled on the inside cover.

To Cassie,

Happy Christmas! Don't be too lascivious without us.

Love,

George & Fred

P.S. potion is going great. No one is dead yet.

Part of her still felt uncomfortable, from the revelation the other night via drunk Dahlia, that the twins had been the one to find her when she had been...

She didn't know why it upset her so much, and didn't care to think too much into it. Thinking about it only upset her more, and she'd moved on, so what point was there to dwell on it?

She always found herself rationalizing that she was over it, forcing it into her brain, yet it never seemed to stick. If she had truly moved on, why was that event still plaguing her nightmares?

Whatever. She shook her head. It didn't matter anymore.

Just as Cass was about to go downstairs to whatever breakfast Winky had made, something she could already smell, another owl appeared at the window, pecking on the glass impatiently, a small package in its beak.

"Hey little guy." She tilted her head, letting the owl in and opening the package, ignoring the snow that blew into her room. "What do you have for me, aye?"

With gentle hands, she pulled out a tiny silver necklace, with a green coloured gemstone she didn't know the name of at the end, from the envelope, with an even tinier note attached to it. Inside, a simple message was scribbled down in neat, formal handwriting, far nicer than Cass's

Happy Christmas Cass! It was nice talking to you the other night.

-C

For a moment, Cass assumed the letter had been from Connor, because what other 'C' did she know, but no, his handwriting was terrible, and he was a muggle, he didn't use owl post!

It was nice talking to you last night...

Holy shit.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

It was from Cedric.

Cedric had sent her a bloody Christmas gift!

Cass took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Why would he do that? She hadn't gotten him anything! Were they friends now? Bloody hell, was she friends with Cedric fucking Diggory?

She didn't know why thinking about this made her heart race so fast, she was afraid she might combust, just like she didn't know why he'd been stuck on her mind for so many months. What was so special about Cedric Diggory, after all?

Sure, he was older, good looking, popular, incredibly nice and selfless and truly had no business speaking to someone as basic and peremptory as Cass...but still!

If her heart had been racing before, she was close to having a full on heart attack when she gently placed the necklace around her, the cold silver causing the hairs to stick up on her bare neck.

Once again, holy shit.

*

"Where'd you get the necklace?" Connor asked, from where he was sprawled lazily on his unmade bed.

Cass looked up from where she was sorting the clothes on the ground. She'd been absentmindedly playing with it with one hand, as she cleaned with the other. He shared a room with his older brother Fionn, and between the two of them, the room became a pigsty, which Cass couldn't stand. Every time they'd hang out up there, she'd end up spending the entire time picking up his mess. It used to annoy Connor, but he'd grown used to it by now.

"Oh, this? It was a Christmas gift."

"From who?" He raised a sandy blonde eyebrow, eyeing it up and down. "It looks expensive."

"A bloke back at school, Cedric."

"Cedric? Haven't heard that name before." He wrinkled a nose.

"Yeah, well..." She shrugged, unsure how to respond to him, though a smile crept onto her lips as she continued sorting through the laundry. She wasn't sure if it was dirty or clean, by the way it was so thoughtlessly discarded on the ground. Typical boys. "Seriously, Connor, you leave your underwear on the ground? That's disgusting!"

"Oi, stop going through my boxers!" He leaned off of his bed, reaching for them. "Hey, you're blushing!"

"What?"

"I brought up this Cedric dude, and your face is all red. Unless you're blushing over my dirty underwear-" He was cut off when she violently threw a pair at his face. "Oi! Bloody hell!"

"Do your own laundry and we won't have this problem."

"You and I both know that's never going to happen." He leaned in, a playful smirk on his face, one that very much resembled the Weasley twins. "Anyways, tell me more about this Cedric character."

"There isn't much to say, really." She insisted with a shrug. "Our parents know each other. He goes to my school. We talk occasionally. I'm not even sure why he gave me this, we aren't close."

"Maybe he fancies you."

Cass snorted, nearly dropping the shirt she was folding. "Cedric Diggory fancies me? As if."

"Why not? Not many guys give girls expensive necklaces for Christmas if they aren't close friends. Hell, I haven't gotten you anything that expensive, and we're like, proper besties."

"Maybe he's rich." She shrugged, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt. "There's no way he fancies me. He's older. And popular. And good looking."

"Holy shit, you fancy him!" Connor exclaimed, bursting into laughter.

"What?! I do not!"

"This is priceless! Cassiopeia Crouch has a crush! Who would've thought?" He howled, rolling over onto his back.

"Connor Moore, I swear to God, I will throw more underwear at you!" She clutched a pair in her fist, aiming it at him.

"No, no please! Anything but the underwear!" Connor pleaded between loud, obnoxious giggles, holding his hands in the air in mock surrender.

She gave him a pointed stare, though she was grinning all the same.

The two spent the rest of the afternoon on the bedroom floor, laughing and talking about everything they could think of. It was New Years Day, and most of the Moore family was out with their respective friends, meaning no one bothered them.

"So, you're positive you don't fancy this Cedric dude?" Connor said, laying on his stomach, propping himself up with his elbows. His hazel eyes bore into hers.

She shrugged, though she felt a flurry in her stomach just at the mention of his name. "I don't know why you care so much."

"Uh, because I'm your best friend. Duh!"

"Aren't we a bit young for fancying people, anyways?"

Connor shrugged, his blonde hair shifting as he did. "Maybe. I fancy someone, though."

"What?!" Cass shot up at this, brown eyes growing wide. "Who?! Do I know her? What's she like? You need to tell me everything!"

"Only if you tell me about Cedric." He raised his eyebrows playfully, and she nearly smacked up.

"I hate you!" Cass groaned.

"It's only fair!"

"Fine." She took a deep breath. "I don't know. I might fancy him. I've never really thought about it. I don't like those things. I don't like feeling like that."

"Why not?" He tilted his head.

She shrugged. "I don't know." It was the truth. She hated feeling too deeply about anyone, anyone but Connor, that is, though she couldn't pinpoint why. She didn't want to pinpoint why.

"But you do fancy him?"

"I don't know...I think about him a lot, though. I went to a...rugby game, that my friend was playing in, and he was too, and all I could focus on him, even though I should've been watching Naia. And one time, when I was really stressed over...stuff, and needed to calm down, I thought about him, and it helped. When I think about him, I kind of go fuzzy, and when he talked to me, my mind goes a bit blank, like I forgot English or something."

That was probably the most emotion Cass had ever shared to her childhood friend, and even though it was superficial compared to other stuff in her life, she was shaking by the end of her tangent. She only hoped he didn't notice.

"Yup, sounds like a crush to me."

She buried her face in her hands. "I hate you."

He patted her on the back. "I only speak the truth."

"It's your turn now!" She looked back up at him expectantly.

"My turn for...?" Connor tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion.

"To tell me who you fancy, you wanker!" She swatted him on the shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Connor Moore, you tell me who you fancy this instant, or so help me God I will suffocate you with your dirty boxers!"

"Bloody hell, fine." He laughed, taking a deep breath. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he was cut off, as the door to his bedroom swung open.

"Saoirse, what the hell do you want?" Connor glared at his sister, who stood in the doorway. Her curly red hair was askew, and she wore a typical scowl on her freckled face.

"Shut up." She spat at her brother, before turning to Cass. "Your father is at the door."

Cass sat up instantly, her posture stiffening, and a sense of dread filling her. "My-my father?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Saoirse! Don't be rude!" Connor scolded, as Cass pushed herself onto her feet. "Sorry Cass."

"No worries." She bit her lip, barely registering what he had said. "I better go see what he wants..."

With a deep breath, she descended down the stairs and through the hallway of the Moore home, landing at their front door, where sure enough, Bartemius stood. He looked frazzled, and uncertain, and he kept glancing back at the Crouch house, as if he expected it to grow legs and walk away.

"What is it?" Cass asked, shutting the door behind her. She hoped he didn't notice the tremble in her voice.

"Sorry to interrupt, I know how you enjoy your time with your muggle friend, but...a letter came for you." Bartemius stuck out a hand, where sure enough, he held a tiny envelope addressed to her. When she looked up with a frown, he continued. "I, er, tried to ignore it, but the owl wouldn't leave me alone. When I set it aside for you to read when you got home, it bit me, so it must be rather urgent."

That had likely been the most words he'd spoken to her all year.

Hesitantly, Cass took the letter, opening it with a gulp.

Crouch,

Ana was petrified today. Loony Lovegood found her near a window. She was in your dorm room, so Henry reckons the Heir of Slytherin is a Ravenclaw. Even worse, I overheard Flitwick and Pomfrey talking about the school shutting down. Thought you'd want to know.

Be careful.

-Theodore

P.S. Happy New Year

"Fuck, no."

The words fell out before she could stop them, her entire body going as pale as a sheet in an instant.

"Language!" Bartemius scolded, though Cass could hardly hear him over the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. Her legs had turned to jelly, rendering herself completely immobile, as one thought echoed through her brain, over and over and over.

Not Ana. Not Ana. Not Ana.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't bloody fair. Why her? Why Ana, of all the people in Hogwarts. Why her? Why sweet, innocent, kind, loving Ana, who hadn't a negative bone in her body. What had she ever done to anyone to deserve this?

There had been rumours, for the past month, that Sprout had no idea what she was doing. That she told the rest of the students and the parents of the victims that she was working on some sort of potion with Snape, that was supposed to bring them back to life. But rumour had it, it was a lie. The staff were as in the dark as the rest of Hogwarts was, and weren't at all close to saving the poor petrified students. That they'd never wake up.

What if Ana never woke up?

Cass subsequently leaned over and vomited all over the Moore's front lawn.

"Merlin, Cassiopeia, are you alright?!"

"Peachy."

"Come on then, let's go inside."

Cass wasn't sure how, because she was certain she hadn't moved her legs so much as an inch, but somehow, she ended up back inside her own house, on the couch, leaned over and clutching her knees with her palms.

Bartemius was holding the letter in his left hand, his brown eyes scanning the contents with an unreadable expression.

"This is from Theodore Nott, I take it?"

She nodded.

"I wasn't aware you were friends with the Nott's." He muttered, seemingly more to himself than her, a pregnant pause between the two. "Do you want to go back?"

"What?" Cass looked up.

"To Hogwarts. Do you want to go back, after break?"

"Do I want to - what are you talking about?"

"There's a lot of talk, at the Ministry, about people not wanting their children to go back. That between what happened last year with Quirrell, and all the attacks this year, Hogwarts isn't safe. I'm sure the newest attack on your friend Ana will only solidify their fears. If you don't want to go back, I understand. We can make other arrangements for you." Bartemius's weight shifted from foot to foot. For the first time in what felt like her entire life, his mind didn't seem to be elsewhere. For once, her father was present, both physically and emotionally. It was odd.

Cass bit down on her tongue.

When she didn't speak, Bartemius continued, "Some of my colleagues, they're considering home-schooling, or even sending them abroad, to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. If either of those are an option you'd prefer, just let me know."

"I don't feel safe at Hogwarts." She spoke, her words soft, nearing a whisper. "Not about the attacks. Just in general. I haven't since..." her voice broke, and she didn't dare say another word, as the tears she had been holding back so desperately threatened to spill.

"Well, of course you don't." He sat down on the couch next to her. His voice was soft, his and his French accent thicker than usual. "How could you, after last year? After what that madman did to you? I don't feel safe having you there."

She slowly turned her head to look up at her father, her brown eyes riddled in confusion. His voice was filled to the brim with emotion, emotion she thought he didn't have the capacity to possess. She'd never felt so torn in her life.

Since when do you care? Part of her wanted to say - no, scream, yell so loud that all of Stromness could hear her. You left me alone all summer. You didn't check up on me, you didn't visit me in the hospital wing, and now you want to pretend you care? Now you want to act like a loving father?

How long would his affection last, before he had another breakdown like he had the previous Christmas, so terrible he sent her to the Malfoy's of all places, and had been acting like he'd seen a ghost? How long until he allowed his façade to drop, and went back to his typical apathy.

Another part, the part buried deeper inside her, wanted to jump into her father's arms, wanted to cry like a child. Wanted him to say he loved her, to say he was sorry, to swear to care about her more. It was so pathetically sad, when Cass thought about it. Her one wish was for her father to love her.

But that would never happen. She needed to be realistic about these things. At least, when she was at Hogwarts, she had distractions to keep her mind at ease when it came to the emotional neglect she'd experienced all her life, and which was only just starting to take a toll on her. Optimism had never been her forte, and she wasn't about to try it now, she wasn't about to get her hopes up when it came to Bartemius, only to have her heart broken once more.

Cass willed the tears forming in her eyes to go away. They obeyed.

She took a deep, shaky breath, gathering all the strength she had. "I don't feel safe here, either."

Bartemius stared at her, his eyes widening in...panic? Yes, pure, utter panic, like it had been a year ago, when she'd shown up at his office with the letter he hadn't written. Once again, panic was certainly the last emotion she'd have expected her father to react to the situation with, but he wasn't exactly known for his predictability, was he?

"W-why?" He sputtered out. "Did something happen? Did you see someone?"

"Did I - what are you on about?"

"What are you on about?" He said slowly, eyes frantically flickering around the room.

"You really don't get it, do you?" When he didn't respond, Cass shook her head, running a hand through her hair as she stood up from the couch. "Just forget it. I'm going back to Hogwarts on Sunday, I don't care if the bloody Chamber of Secrets is open or not."

As Cass retreated into her bedroom, she ignored Bartemius calling after her. She ignored the shortness in her breath, as her throat clenched up. She ignored the feeling of her heart breaking into a million pieces.