musical mood: first love/late spring - mitski

After downright refusing to speak to the twins, and taking full advantage of Malfoy's sudden devotion towards her, she had him get her a pile of books from the library, and spent the next few hours of her time in the hospital wing, absorbed in a muggle book on the Saxon kings of England. She wasn't sure why the Hogwarts library had it, but she'd learned by now not to question the castle.

It was nearing curfew, when the door to the hospital wing, and in ran a frantic Cedric Diggory, holding a limp body in his arms.

"Mr. Diggory? What is it?" Pomfrey, who was at her desk, shot up at the same time as Cass, running over to him. When her eyes hit the motionless boy in Cedric's arms, she paled. "Oh no, oh God no, not another..."

"I found him in the boy's lavatory, by the sinks." Cedric explained, trembling from head to toe. Pomfrey lifted the boy with a whip of her wand, setting him down on a bed nearest to the curtains, and furthest from Cass. "I-I don't know who this is, I'm sorry."

"No matter. Did you see anyone nearby?"

Cedric shook his head. "No, there was no one. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise, dear." Pomfrey said, and while she was obviously sincere, her mind was elsewhere.

She moved to bring the boy's bed behind the curtains where the other victims were, and Cass finally stood up from the bed, peering over the healer's shoulder, and her heart dropping at the sight. It was impossible not to recognize him, between his dark skin, curly hair, and distinct look of confusion on his permanently frozen face.

They'd got Terry.

Just as soon as she'd stood up, she fell back down, landing on the bed as her legs gave out, her head spinning. Not again. Fuck, not again. Not Terry. She'd just spoken to him that day, how could he have gone from helping her, to petrified, in just a matter of hours?

The same that had been said about Ana applied to Terry - he hadn't done anything to hurt anyone. Out of everyone, out of all the Ravenclaws, all the muggleborns, he certainly didn't deserve this. Neither did Ana, or Colin, or the others that the heir of Slytherin had so mercilessly targeted.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

"You alright, Cass?" Cedric seemed to notice her mental anguish, and stepped over towards her. He wore an expression of shock, clearly finding Terry Boot petrified in the men's restroom wasn't how he planned to spend his evening.

He sat down at the side of her bed, resting his hands on the edge.

She shrugged, saying nothing. Usually, she would've lied, told him she was alright - it was the polite thing to do when someone you weren't close to asked that question, but she didn't have the energy. She didn't even have the energy to be elated that Cedric was talking to her, even though her heart rate did pick up.

"What happened to your arm?" He motioned towards her bandaged up right arm when she didn't respond.

"I got attacked by a plant in Herbology." Her deadpan voice shifted as she cracked a smile, thinking about the sheer absurdity of the situation.

"A...plant?" Cedric blinked. "What plant?"

"Anima Iudicium. It's supposed to attack dark creatures and dark magic and whatever, but it went after me. Bloody idiot. The plant, not you!" She interjected hastily, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Good, I'd like to think I'm not that much of an idiot."

"You're definitely not, don't worry."

"Why do you think it attacked you? I mean, you're obviously not a dark creature or an evil mastermind."

Cass shrugged again. She truly had no idea. Part of her liked to assume it was an accident, a mistake, but she wasn't that naive. It hadn't attacked Theodore, after all. It went after her for a reason, which made her skin crawl to think about.

"Maybe it was hungry?" He suggested when she didn't speak, his voice completely serious.

Cass burst into a fit of laughter.

"Or maybe you're a werewolf." He continued, making her laugh even harder, her shoulders beginning to shake, even though it wasn't even that funny. She needed something to take her mind off of Terry, and Cedric certainly helped.

"Please, as if a werewolf would ever be allowed at a school. Dumbledore isn't that incompetent."

"I mean, he did let Lockhart in..."

"You have a point." She bit down on her lip, her grin only growing.

Cedric Diggory was truly contagious, between the way he effortlessly made her smile, and the way his mere presence caused her to feel like she'd ran a marathon, he was like a drug. It was horrifically pathetic of her to have such a severe crush on someone older than her, but she couldn't help it.

"Well, I best be off." He stood up, giving her an apologetic smile. "I have lots of homework to do...bloody Snape...do you know when you'll be out?"

"Tomorrow. Pomfrey's just keeping me overnight, in case the stupid plant poisoned me or something. Can't have that happening again, apparently."

He forced a laugh, stiffening at the mention of her poisoning. "I hope you feel better soon. See you tomorrow?"

Cass blinked, hoping her confusion didn't show. See you tomorrow? What the hell did that mean? Was he planning on talking to her tomorrow? Why would he do that? Or did he just mean he'd see her in the halls, in passing between classes?

"Yeah. Thanks." She nodded, and just as he was about to exit, she called out his name again. "Cedric?"

"Hm?" He turned around.

"Thanks for the necklace, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to thank you earlier, I've been a bit...preoccupied."

"Oh, yeah, of course! You're welcome!" He flashed her a grin, a genuine one this time, and she nearly swooned, like a bloody girl from a romcom. "See you later!"

"See you later."

*

As promised, Cass was released from the hospital wing the next day, and allowed to return to her classes as usual. Sure, she got plenty of stares, and the bandages on her arm weren't allowed to be removed for a week, but it was good to be back. Or, it was, until...

"Crouch!"

She turned around, taking a deep breath, as a furious Draco Malfoy approached her outside of History of Magic. His pale face was glowing scarlet, and his icy grey eyes were fixed on her, bulging out of his head. If looks could kill, Malfoy would be in Azkaban for life.

Odd, Cass thought, against her better judgement. The love potion should've lasted longer. Once again, she mentally kicked herself for allowing the twins to do the potion without her. She should know by now not to trust anyone to do her dirty work, especially not George and Fred.

"Hm?"

"Care to explain why I apparently professed my love for you all day yesterday?!"

"Not really, no." She attempted to push past him and into the classroom, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Nearby students started to stare at them, even more than they had been prior.

"You put me under a love potion, didn't you?"

She eyed him up and down, forcing her expression to remain impassive. "Why would I put you under a love potion? I hate you."

"You're the only one in our year capable of making a love potion." His jaw shifted, glaring at her.

"Wow, a compliment. Thank you." She rolled her eyes. "But have you ever considered, why would I want you obsessing over me? Whoever did it was clearly trying to prank us both."

"It was humiliating! Now everyone thinks I'm in love with you! As if I would ever fancy a filthy halfblood." Malfoy spat out the last word like a slur, his face scrunching up.

"Precisely. Now, may I go to class, or are you going to continue to berate me for something I didn't do?"

He said nothing, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Cass's lie had stuck to him like glue, and she wasn't sure if that meant she was a good liar, or that Malfoy was just extremely gullible. Technically speaking, was it a lie? She hadn't wanted her to be the subject of the love potion, after all, that was truthful, nor had it been her idea to do the prank in the first place.

What Malfoy didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she decided.

*

The months came and left with nothing of interest happing. Terry was seemingly the last victim of the heir of Slytherin, and while no one let their guard down, the feeling of safety slowly seeped back into the lives of Hogwarts students.

Cass spent most of her time ignoring various things - ignoring the Weasley twins, ignoring the Blood Magicbook, despite her conscious telling her to do otherwise, and ignoring the lingering hurt of her father's absence. She was good at ignoring heavy emotions, and other issues she didn't want to deal with. She'd done it all her life, it was nothing new to her.

Truthfully, she didn't talk to many people at all. The atmosphere of the remaining Ravenclaws was significantly dreary, with Ana and Terry petrified, and everyone else on edge. Padma spent her days with her sister and Lavender in Gryffindor, likely thinking she was safer there than Ravenclaw, where Ana had been petrified in their bloody dorm.

Bethany did the same - hanging out nearly exclusively with her Slytherin sisters. With only Cass, Naia and Luna left, it was significantly quieter. Sometimes Henry and Theodore would join them, but even they were...off.

At one point, Naia suggested one of them were the heir of Slytherin, and it took a moment for Cass to refute it. Sure, they came from one of the most blood prejudiced families in all of Great Britain, but it didn't seem possible for some reason. They weren't like their father. Why would they hang out with a group of almost exclusively halfbloods and muggleborns if they hated them so much?

Cass's thirteenth birthday was just as dull as every other day. The only exciting thing to happen was a letter from Connor, and a birthday wish from Cedric, which made her stomach do a summersault.

On the third of May, Cass was at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast, in between Luna and Anthony Goldstein. Henry was running over Quidditch plays with Naia, though she seemed distracted. The silence and tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife, and Cass sighed with relief when the owls flew down with mail.

Her father's owl swooped down to meet her, a letter in his beak that she quickly ripped open, grinning from ear to ear at the distinct handwriting. It had been several months since she'd last heard from Connor, and she'd missed him terribly. Though as her brown eyes scanned the words, her grin instantly faded, her stomach dropping, and her mind racing with a single dreaded thought. Oh God, no. Please, no.

Dear Cass,

My dad and Fionn died yesterday. We don't know how. Police say it was probably a carbon monoxide leak (did I spell that right?) in our house, but no one is sure. None of us were home when it happened, so it's all up in the air as of now. If we were home, we'd probably be dead too though.

I don't know if you're allowed to leave your school at all, but if you can, the funeral is this Saturday at 11. If you can't go, that's okay.

Love you.

Connor

*

It didn't take much convincing from Flitwick to allow her to return to Stromness for the weekend, but Cass was prepared to have a battle to the death if he dared tell her no. She refused, downright refused, to not be there for Connor in a time like this. If the roles were reversed, if her dad died one day, he'd be there for her no matter what. Luckily, she didn't need to argue.

"This is a school, not a prison, Miss Crouch." The tiny professor told her when she approached him after Charms that day, barely looking up from the essay he was grading. "Students are permitted to leave on weekends or holidays whenever they need, as long as they have parental consent."

Getting Bartemius's permission was just as easy. All she had to do was send him a vaguely emotionally manipulative letter threatening to hate him for eternity if she wasn't allowed home, and he responded with a simple yes.

On Saturday, she woke up bright and early, not even bothering to eat breakfast before she took the floo network from Flitwick's office and landed in her parlour in Stromness seconds later, covered in ash. She swiftly magicked it away, not caring one bit that it was illegal. Screw the Ministry and their stupid rules, a little underage magic never hurt anyone.

Winky was there to greet her, her floppy green ears drooped in mourning. The little elf mirrored the dismay that Cass felt, but of course, couldn't show. She had to be strong for Connor.

"Winky has left out a funeral dress for Mistress Cassiopeia upstairs." Winky attempted a smile. Of course, the elf had never met a member of the Moore family, but she'd heard all the stories about them that Cass told, so many it was like she knew them.

"Thanks." With a forced smile, Cass ran upstairs to get ready, shaking with nerves. She'd never been to a funeral before, nor had she ever had to comfort someone over a death. Not a death, two deaths, and under such odd circumstances...what if she said the wrong thing? What if she somehow upset Connor and made him even more miserable than he was.

When she reached her bedroom, shutting the door behind her, she took a deep breath, trying to relax. As Winky said, a black funeral dress was laid across her bed, a conservative one, with long sleeves that covered her scars from the plant, and a skirt that fell to her ankles. It was loose on her thin figure, and wearing it made her feel like a nun, but she knew it was the proper attire.

At ten on the dot, she showed up at Connor's front doorstep, momentarily hesitating before knocking on the wooden door. What was she supposed to say, to someone who'd just lost two family members, and in such an unexpected way as well?

Moments later, Connor opened the door to greet her, in a simple black suit and a white tie. His freckled face was red and blotchy, his eyes bloodshot, yet he still somehow managed a genuine grin as Cass embraced him without a word. Maybe she didn't need to speak, maybe all he needed was her presence, to know he was supported.

"I'm so sorry." She murmured into his shoulder. He just squeezed her tighter.

*

Cass had never been to a church service before, and the shock from it felt like an out of body experience. Sure, she knew the general idea of Christianity from Connor, Jesus died for their sins and whatnot, but she hadn't known about communion, and felt extremely uncomfortable that everyone around her was eating Jesus's body and drinking his blood like it was nothing. Was it a metaphor? Surely it had to be.

If not, was it cannibalism? Why was cannibalism okay in the Bible, but not adultery? The latter couldn't possibly be as bad. Or because Jesus was God, was it not cannibalism? But why would you be allowed to eat a God...

The disturbing questions, along with the ramblings of the Priest made her head ache, so she stopped paying attention halfway through the service. Her hand was holding Connors the entire time.

The Catholic church the Moore family attended was on the mainland, a solid half an hour drive from isolated Stromness. It was nearly impossible to fit the entire Moore family plus Cass into the two cars they owned, but they managed. Sure, Cass was sandwiched in the back with three other people, and the air conditioning wasn't working, but it could've been worse.

Other than the complexities of muggle religious customs, the service was beautiful. It was heart breaking, of course, seeing the Moore family in mourning - little Saoirse especially, was far too young to deal with such immense loss. But the priest had wise words to say, about Fionn and Malcolm's souls being at peace and how they'd moved on to a better place, but were still watching over their loved ones. Cass liked that idea - about people never really dying, and always looking out for the people that were still on earth. It was sweet.

Of everything in the church service and funeral, the most daunting thing was seeing the photographs of Fionn. He looked so much like Connor, the two really could've been twins. It was shocking, that someone so young could die so tragically. Of course, Malcolm's death was just as sad, but seeing a boy who looked just like Connor being buried in the ground forever...it was an image Cass would never be able to erase from her mind.

*

"Thanks again for coming." Connor said as the pair walked out of the restaurant. They'd all gone out to eat after the service, at the only diner in Stromness. The rest of the Moore family were staying behind a while longer, but Connor insisted on walking Cass home. He claimed he wanted to go home to feed their three cats, but Cass knew him better than that. She could tell he was overwhelmed, and needed some space from everyone. Everyone but her. "It can't have been easy getting permission to leave your school."

"It was nothing, don't worry about it. I'd like to see them try to keep me from you." She reached over and squeezed his hand as they turned a corner on the desolate street. It was warm out, far too warm for the long-sleeved dress she wore, and she longed to change. The bright summer weather felt odd, considering the dismal events. In the movies, it always rained during funerals.

Connor's hand lingered, clutching hers gently, yet with a clear message not to let go. She didn't. She never would.

The roads were empty - more than usual for the small town. For a moment, Cass imagined the people of Stromness were too ashamed to leave their homes, to face the mourning family whom they had treated so cruelly. How guilty they must all feel, now that two of their victims were dead.

Cass eyed her friend up and down when he wasn't looking. He had grown a few inches taller since she'd seen him last Christmas, his hair had darkened slightly, but most noticeably, he held a much different aura. Gone was the innocent, dopey child. At just thirteen years old, Connor had the ambiance of a young man.

Grief would do that, Cass supposed. Losing a father and a brother in one day would change someone.

The pair continued down their route in silence, and what an odd pair they must've seemed. Two young teens in funeral attire, holding hands while walking down a gravel road. It would've been something out of an edgy vinyl cover.

When they reached the Crouch manor, they paused at the end of the curb, both not wanting to say goodbye. Cass would do anything to stay behind - to not go back to Hogwarts where muggleborns were being petrified left and right. She wanted to stay with her best friend, and make sure whatever fate had fallen upon Malcolm and Fionn stayed far away from him. If something were to happen to Connor...

"Is there someone inside?"

Cass was jolted out of her thoughts. "What?"

"In your house." Connor pointed up near the highest point of the manor. "I thought I saw someone in that window."

She blinked, staring at the window he was referring to. It must've connected to their attic - Cass had never been in the tallest point of their home, Bartemius forbade it. It was his sacred work space, apparently, and she had no desire to explore the mundane ministry paperwork he must've had stacked up there.

"No. No one's home."

Her father was at work, and Winky was too small to be seen from a window, assuming the elf was allowed in that room either.

"Must've been the wind." Connor frowned, not seeming at all convinced by his words.

"Or the ghost." Cass offered with a slight laugh, referring to the ghost she believed haunted her house. Connor had never been a believer in the paranormal, but he had still always comforted her on days where she was scared of going home.

"Or the ghost." The corners of Connor's mouth curved up ever so slightly.

Cass leaned into him, giving him a tight hug, every bone in her body willing her to not let go. "Promise that you'll write to me if you need anything - and I mean anything. If you need me to come see you. I'll sneak out of school if I have to."

She felt him laugh as he squeezed her back, his body moving against hers. Oh, his laugh was music to her ears. It meant he wouldn't be miserable every day, if he could have a genuine laugh. She didn't need to worry so much. He'll be okay.

"Of course. I promise."

After several moments, Cass let go, dropping her arms from Connor's midsection. But while his grip loosened, his hands remained on her waist. He looked down at her with an expression she had never seen on him before.

Then, without any warning, Connor leaned in and kissed her.

Cass froze.

Not just physically, no, but mentally, her brain seemed to shut off. She knew this was wrong, so, so beyond wrong, but she couldn't seem to process anything else. She couldn't kiss him back, or push him away, it was like she'd lost all the mobility in her body.

All Cass could do was stand there, eyes wide open, with his gentle lips on hers, until he broke apart from her a moment later. It was brief, chaste, a blink and you miss it type kiss. But to Cass, it felt like it went on forever, and not in the good way.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He bit his lip, his hazel eyes staring at the ground instead of at her. "I don't...I don't know why I did that. I'm really sorry. That was a mistake. Bloody hell, Cass I'm so sorry."

Cass opened and closed her mouth several times, willing for words to come out. Something, anything. But nothing did. She remained in a complete state of shock, barely able to process the abundant apologies Connor was spewing out. His voice was thick with panic, and it sounded like he was about to cry again.

Don't cry. Cass wanted to shout. Please, no, don't cry.

Instead, the words that came out of her mouth, just as shaky and panicked as he, were simply, "I have to go."

"Go?" Connor paled.

"School." She managed to sputter out, though it was a complete lie and they both knew it. Flitwick wasn't expecting her back until the next day - she'd planned on spending the night at Connor's. Of course, that no longer seemed likely, and her body had gone on autopilot.

"Oh." Connor struggled to not let the disappointment in his face show.

"I'm sorry. For your loss." She managed to say, her voice even more scratchy than usual.

"I'm sorry too."