musical mood: king of rome - pet shop boys

After only five days into summer break, Cass caved. Sure, she was still beyond furious at Connor, but it was impossible to exist in Stromness without him, when he was right across the street. The temptation was too much. It was worth the initial awkwardness, spending time with her best friend.

They had a silent agreement, not to speak about what happened. He was simply emotional, from the funeral, from his father and brother's untimely death, and acted on impulse. It meant nothing. Or so Cass convinced herself. It was easier than indulging in the idea that Connor could possibly have feelings for her.

Now, she was lounged on his couch in the basement, one of the Moore's three cats on her lap, as they watched some terrifying Christmas movie on his VHS. At least, Cass thought it was fucked up, while Connor was laughing his ass off the entire way through.

"Bloody hell!" Cass jolted, as the bad guy burned his hand on a scolding hot doorknob. "How is this for kids? This is a horror movie!"

Connor looked at her, eyebrows raised in amusement. "You think Home Alone is a horror movie?"

"Yes!" She cried. The cat leapt off of her lap at her outburst, landing on the floor and scurrying away. "See, it even scared Cheddar away!"

"It's literally a comedy." He insisted.

"How?! His family left him alone and now he's torturing some burglars who want to kill him! This is sadistic!"

"It's funny."

"Are we watching the same movie? They're trying to kill an eight year old!"

Connor simply rolled his eyes, biting his lip as a smirk formed. They continued to watch the movie in relative silence, Cass cringing with every bit of violence that occurred.

This is the type of movie George and Fred would like. She thought to herself while shaking her head.

"Well, that was horrific." She said once the credits began to roll, and Connor removed the VHS, putting it back in the box.

"Yeah, well..." He shrugged, sitting back down on the couch, avoiding eye contact. "Fionn loved it. My dad would've agreed with you, though. He hated violent movies, even the funny ones."

"Is that why you chose to watch a Christmas movie in the middle of summer? Because you miss them?"

He shrugged again, his hair flopping as he did. He'd grown it out quite a bit, it nearly reaching his shoulders. Cass was surprised his mother Catherine didn't oppose it. Maybe she was too consumed in her own grief to care about her son's haircut.

"I'm not very good at this whole grief thing." Connor said finally.

Cass bit down on the side of her cheek, rubbing the scar under her eye. "I don't think anyone is."

"Really?"

She nodded.

"You seem good at it."

She frowned at this. "I've never lost anyone, though."

"Your mum."

"That's completely different." She blinked, staring at him in confusion. "I didn't know her. You can't grieve someone you didn't know. You knew your dad and brother."

"I suppose. Like I said, I'm not good at it. Especially compared to the rest of my family...they're so...normal. Like it didn't even happen. Like they never even existed. They don't even talk about it. Except mum, I guess, but that's nothing new."

She tilted her head, eyeing him expectantly. She didn't need to say anything, to get him to talk. The right look always got his mouth to run.

"She thinks dad and Fionn were murdered."

"What?!" Cass gaped.

"Yeah, well, you know her. She's gone completely nuts. I mean, at least she's leaving Saoirse alone now, but at what cost?"

"So...you don't believe the same?"

He shook his head, his sandy blonde hair flying about as he did. "They died in a chemical leak. Carbon monoxide. It makes sense. There was no sign of injury, or struggle, or anything like that. Mum just doesn't want to believe it, she keeps insisting the homeless lad she pretends to see is behind it. It's ridiculous, how could a homeless guy kill two people without leaving a trace? Without leaving a single injury on their bodies? It's just terrifying, that we could all be dead, had we been home at the time."

"It was scary, for me too." Cass bit down on her lip. "At the funeral. Fionn...he looks so much like you." Connor rolled his eyes playfully at this - he'd had a lifetime of being told how similar he looked to his older brother. "It was so jarring, all those pictures, and the open casket...it was like being at your funeral, seeing your body. I don't know what I would do if something like that happened to you. I don't think I could live."

"Don't worry, I don't plan on dying any time soon." He gave her a weak smile. "Though I suppose dad and Fionn didn't plan on dying either...I'd be devastated if something happened to you too."

He reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it softly - the first physical contact that they'd had since she'd arrived at the Moore home. Since the kiss that she was so desperately trying not to think about.

"Cass, about the funeral-" he began, his voice low, but was interrupted by the basement door swinging open.

Catherine stood at the top of the stairs, her hands on her hips. She looked completely exhausted, her flaming red hair messy, as if it hadn't been brushed in weeks, and her hazel eyes wide. "Cass, someone's at the door for you."

Cass shot up, Connor's hand dropping out of hers as she did. Was it her father again? Last time he'd shown up, she'd received such awful news...

She practically ran up the stairs and down the hall, Connor at her side, but no, it was not her father at the door.

Henry Nott stood on the Moore's front porch, looking unsure of himself. His hands were nervously wringing together, his long dark hair was askew, and the left side of his face had a massive bruise stretched across it, so severe that his eye was swollen shut.

"Holy shit, what happened?" She instinctively stepped forward, and ran a gentle finger over his bruise, causing him to flinch. "Sorry."

"Is this Cedric?" Connor asked from her side. She'd momentarily forgotten he was there.

Henry frowned, though only one of his eyebrows seemed to function properly. "Uh...no? Why would you assume I'm Cedric?"

"Never mind him." Cass waved a hand before Connor could say anything else. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

Henry didn't answer, instead he just shook his head. He was trembling from head to toe. "I'm sorry Cass, I didn't know where else to go...I wasn't thinking...I can leave."

"No. Don't leave, it's okay." She grabbed onto his wrist, gently clutching his hand. "Talk to me, Henry. What happened?"

"I took the Knight Bus to your house-"

"-Knight bus?" Connor raised his eyebrows.

"-and your elf said you'd be here."

"Elf?"

Cass took a sharp breath, turning to her friend. "Er, Connor, could you give us a moment?"

Connor, who looked completely baffled, eyed the two with a muddled expression, that for the first time, Cass couldn't decipher. She'd always been able to read her best friend, but not this time.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. See you later." He bit his lip, backing into his home and shutting the door behind them, a bit too hard.

"He's intense." Henry commented. That was perhaps the first time anyone could consider Connor in any way intense, but she couldn't disagree, considering how he had been acting.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

A pregnant pause fell between the two.

"I can make you a bruise cream." Cass said. "I know a recipe, it'll take half an hour, tops. Come on."

Henry silently followed her back across the street, and into the Crouch home. She wasn't supposed to bring anyone inside, she knew that, but there was really no logical reason behind the rule. Sure, it made sense that Connor couldn't come in, in case he stumbled upon anything magical, but Henry was a wizard, and his dad worked with Bartemius. It wasn't a big deal.

The Tudor style house was dimly lit, nearly all the windows covered by blinds, but Henry didn't seem to mind as she led him up the staircase and into her room. Winky greeted them at the door, and said nothing, though she looked apprehensive by their guest.

"Your room is nice." Henry said, glancing around as Cass pulled out her potion's ingredients from her trunk. He sat down awkwardly on her unmade twin bed, bouncing up and down on the baby blue blanket, as she set up her materials on the floor.

"Thanks." She barely registered what he said, and didn't look up as she began mixing various items into her cauldron, barely looking at the instruction book. She knew this potion by heart, even though she'd never made it before. It was quite simple, and she was surprised Henry hadn't thought to make it himself. Though, he wasn't very bright...

"Sorry again, to intrude." He looked at the ground.

"It's no problem, really."

"I just didn't know where else to go." He continued, repeating what he had said earlier, outside Connor's home. "Honestly, you're my only friend."

Cass actually looked up at him, his brown eyes meeting hers with a look that convinced her he was serious. "I am?"

Truthfully, when it came down to listing her Hogwarts friends, Henry had never made the cut for her. It was her dormmates, plus Lavender and Parvati, and maybe George and Fred, if she was in a good enough mood. The Nott brothers had always been more on the line of acquaintances to her, and she suddenly felt a pang of guilt at this.

"I mean, you're the only person who's nice to me. And not fake nice, like all the pureblood families have to be to each other. Not that they're very nice to me..." His voice trailed off, referring to his unfortunate house placement. "You're the only real one, at that stupid school."

"Thanks. I think..." She gave him a small smile, just as she began stirring the potion.

When it became a thick substance, creamy and hard to actually sift through, she gathered it up and poured it into a mason jar. "Done. That was quicker than I thought."

"You didn't have to do that." Henry nodded to the jar, as she sat down on the bed next to him.

"Nonsense. Look at me." He tilted her head towards her. Blood crusted the area surrounding his black eye, though his cheek was far more swollen. For a moment, Cass was worried he'd broken his cheekbone, but it didn't seem that bad.

With two fingers, she liberally scooped up some of the substance, which was a bright pink, and gently applied it to his bruises. He shuddered when his skin met the cream, though moments later he let out a sigh of relief.

He must've been in a lot of pain, Cass thought bitterly, as she continued to rub it until the entirety of his facial injuries were covered. She didn't apply it to his split lip, though - she wasn't sure if the potion was consumable, and she didn't want to risk it.

"Feel better?"

Henry nodded, wincing as he smiled at her. "Much. Thank you. You're a miracle worker, truly."

She scoffed at this. "It was simple, really. Nothing to go ringing the Pope about."

"The what?"

Bloody purebloods.

"Never mind." She lifted his chin, examining her handywork. "You'll need to leave it on for an hour, for it to fully get rid of the bruise. The pain should be gone, though. Do you have any other injuries, or is that it?"

"That's it." He confirmed.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Henry paused at this, clearly deep in thought. For a moment, Cass thought he wasn't going to say anything, but eventually, he answered her with three simple words.

"My mother died."

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright." He shrugged, though by the tone of his voice, it clearly wasn't. No, it was practically impossible to be okay with the death of a loved one.

"You don't have to do that."

"Do what?" He frowned.

"Lie. Pretend to be okay. You don't need to fake that stuff around me. Or anyone that's worth anything, for that matter. It's okay to be upset."

Henry's brown eyes widened, staring at her as if her words had caused some sort of epiphany. "You really are different, than what I thought you'd be like. I mean, I knew what you were like, but...I didn't know you'd be...this kind to me."

Cass bit down on her lip, preventing the words that were so quickly about to spill. About how she was told that constantly, and never knew what it meant. Why would she surprise people by being kind to them? Did they think she didn't understand basic human emotions? Just because she refused to be vulnerable around people didn't mean she judged those who did.

Of course, it would be an inappropriate time to air those thoughts, so she bit her tongue.

"Where's Theodore?" She asked finally. "Is he coming?"

Henry shook his head, his long hair growing even more messy in the process. "He stayed home. He's always been more...loyal, to our father."

"Your father?" Cass's brow furrowed. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know. I can't...I can't explain it. I'm sorry."

He looked close to tears. Cass reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. "You really need to stop apologising for things that aren't your fault."

"So I've been told." He snorted.

"Do you want to tell me why you're all bruised?"

Henry bit down on his bloodied lip, his gaze travelling from her to the wood floor. His feet nervously swung back and forth from where he sat on her bed, the speed increasing by her question.

For a second, she thought he wasn't going to respond at all, but he did, his voice barely above a whisper. "My dad is not a good person."

*

Henry spent the next few weeks at the Crouch manor without any interruptions.

Cass insisted he sleep in her twin sized bed, and she took the floor. She had Winky prepare a cot for her, so she wasn't on the bare wood. It wasn't the most comfortable of places to sleep, but she didn't mind.

Surprisingly, when Bartemius returned to their house and spotted Henry, he didn't object. Of course, he asked what he was doing there, but when they explained the situation, he didn't seem to mind. Maybe he should've - most fathers would be concerned that their daughter was alone all day with an older boy, but Henry was very visibly harmless, and it was evident that Cass clearly had no interest in that sort of thing.

Maybe it was because Bartemius knew John Nott, and everyone who knew him knew how terrible of a human being he was. Well, maybe they didn't know the extent of it, the abuse of his oldest child was probably not common knowledge, but his horrific blood prejudice and violent outbursts were known to everyone with Ministry connections.

There was a funeral, later that week, for Matilda Nott, but Henry refused to go. Cass didn't push him on the subject. It wasn't any of her business.

On a windy day in early August, Cass and Henry made their way to the one park in Stromness, where they planned on meeting Connor. The weather was absolutely dreadful, which was probably why they were the only ones there, instead of the typical crowd of children running around and climbing on the playground.

Perhaps the weather represented the dreary mood of all of wizarding Britain. It had just been announced that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban prison. No one was safe, and it probably wasn't the smartest idea to go to a park unsupervised, but Cass imagined the fugitive had bigger things to worry about than three teenagers.

"You're late." Connor said from where he gently swung on the swing set. Cass took a seat next to him, while Henry remained standing, leaning against the post.

"Sorry." She gave him an apologetic smile. "We got caught up with some things."

Some things being the escape of a mass murderer, but of course, they were unsure if the muggle population had been made aware of the danger.

"Right. Well, nice to finally see you again. You kind of ran off that day."

"Sorry." Cass apologised again. "It was kind of an emergency."

"I'm Henry, by the way. Nice to meet you." Henry stuck out a hand for Connor to shake, giving him a goofy grin that he didn't reciprocate.

"I'm Connor." Connor tentatively shook the boy's hand, staring at him with a blank expression. It was bizarre, Cass had never seen him act like this. "I've been Cass's best friend since we were kids."

"That's cool." Henry blinked, bemused. "Er, she talks about you sometimes, to all of us at school."

"Us?"

"Our friends. Her friends."

Cass laughed softly to herself. "I think they're your friends too, Henry. None of them have anything against you."

Henry shifted at this, his gaze falling to the ground. He dug his toe into the dirt, his shoe leaving imprints as he drew lines back and forth.

"So, tell me about this secretive posh school you two go to." Connor's hazel eyes flashed between the two, his lips pursed in a straight line.

"There's not much to say." She shrugged, sending a knowing look at Henry. He knew by now that Connor was a muggle, but she wanted to take the lead in this conversation, since Henry had next to no knowledge of the muggle world. He didn't know who the Pope was, for Merlin's sake!

"It's pretty boring. Really, nothing interesting happens there." Henry confirmed with a nod.

Connor's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

Henry seemed to notice that Connor wasn't satisfied with their answer, and continued. "We have a girl from Russia, though."

"Belarus." Cass corrected.

"Same difference." He shrugged, continuing. "Her name is Ana, she's friends with Cass. And my little brother." His eyes darkened at the mention of his brother, and Cass bit down on her lip. Were Theodore and Ana friends? Surely John wouldn't allow that, but then again, maybe he didn't know...

"Interesting."

The conversation continued with the same level of awkwardness as it had began with. Connor seemed to truly despise Henry, who was trying his best to be nice. By the end, Cass had grown so fed up with Connor's odd behaviour, she made up some excuse about dinner to get Henry and her back into the Crouch home.

When they plopped down on the couch in the parlour, Henry stared at her, his eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"I don't know why he was like that." Cass shook her head, rubbing her scar as she did. She could already feel a headache coming on from the stress. "He's usually so much nicer, I swear. I've never seen him act so...mean."

"You really don't know why he was being so weird?" Henry stared at her, his eyes wide like it was obvious.

She frowned. "No?"

"Merlin, Crouch, for a Ravenclaw, you really are dense."

"That's rich, coming from you!"

"Oh, shut it." Henry smacked her on the shoulder, a playful laugh emitting from him. He looked genuinely happy, for the first time since he'd shown up at the Moore's doorstep, and that made her heart soar.

Why had she never considered him a friend before? She should've spent far more time with him than she did. Well, now she had the rest of her Hogwarts life to do so, plus summers, if he chose to stay with her again.

"Anyways, your friend, Connor, he's being weird because he fancies you, and he thinks you fancy me."

Cass gaped, her heart sinking to her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and die at the idea of that being true. "W-why would you think that?"

"I'm not socially incompetent like you. I can read those things."

"I am not socially incompetent!"

"Clearly you are, if you don't think that kid likes you."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "He's my best friend. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Whatever you say."

"I don't fancy you, by the way. Or him." Cass added after an awkward silence fell between the two.

"Oh, don't worry, I know." He rolled his eyes. "You either fancy Diggory or that Weasley twin you're always ranting about. I can't figure out which - maybe both? You do seem to be a bit indecisive, so you fancying them both wouldn't be surprising."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She sputtered out, her cheeks glowing a bright red.

"Don't I?" He tilted his head.

Cass opened her mouth to respond, with an argument or a confession about her feelings for Cedric, she wasn't sure, because before she could speak, a sharp pounding from the door jolted the two out of their conversation.

"I'll get it." Cass stood up - Winky was all the way upstairs, last she'd seen her, so she likely hadn't heard.

Though when she opened the door, she instantly regretted it, as she was face to face with John Nott. He had the Nott's signature tan skin and chocolate brown eyes, but his hair was a wispy white from age. He'd been twice the age of his now deceased wife, which had always rubbed Cass the wrong way. It was bizarre, in her opinion, that he outlived her.

Cass moved to slam the door shut on his face, but he stopped her with just one hand. A grown man was bound to be stronger than a thirteen year old girl, but it was still impressive.

"What do you want?" She hissed as he pushed the wooden door open, despite her attempts to stop it.

"Don't speak to me, you filthy half blood! I've come for my son."

She couldn't help but snort. Of course his first insult was about her blood status. "Yeah, sorry John, but that's not gonna happen." As if she'd ever allow Henry go back to that hellhole of a home, to the man who hit him so bad that he needed bruise cream.

"Move, you insolent child."

She stood her ground, blocking his path as she glanced back at Henry, who was still sat on the couch, paralyzed with fear. He looked like he wanted to run, but likely didn't know how. Cass knew how that felt - being so frozen with emotions that you became unable to move. This made her more determined, to protect her friend. It was instinctual.

"Get out." She demanded, looking up at him to stare into his dark eyes. John towered over her, despite her being tall for her age and gender, but he didn't intimidate her.

Well, he didn't, until he pulled out his wand and aimed it directly at her, and now it was her turn to be frozen in shock. What was an unarmed thirteen year old girl to a grown man with a wand, after all? Her wand was upstairs, uselessly on her bed. Why would she carry her wand around everywhere in a muggle town where nothing was supposed to happen?

The tip of his wand brushed against her neck, sending goosebumps down her back. Surely he wouldn't actually curse her, surely this was an empty threat.

But when John demanded she move again, she was about to, until a voice echoed through the hallway.

"Expelliarmus!"

The wand went flying out of John's hand, the man behind her catching it. It wasn't Henry, who was pale as a ghost, still on the couch. No, it was Bartemius, the person she'd least expected to intervene. Cass didn't even know he had been home.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Nott?" He marched up to him, this time his wand was aimed at John, his face twisted in anger. If John was scared, he didn't show it, his chin held up high.

"I'm retrieving my son." He spat with equal animosity. His eyes flickered over to Henry, who shrunk.

"Like hell you are!" Cass spat, taking the opportunity now that a wand was no longer aimed at her. She turned to her father, brown eyes wide with a plea. "You can't let him go back!"

Bartemius's gaze flickered to her, his expression softening as he did, but only for a moment, as he turned back to John, his wand still raised. "You come into my home, you insult our blood, you threaten my daughter, and you expect me to simply allow this young boy to return to your care? Are you forgetting my station at the Ministry is higher than yours? Raising your wand at a thirteen year old girl could get you thrown in Azkaban, with my witness. Not to mention how you treat your children. No, Harry is staying with us."

"My name is Henry, actually." Henry piped up from the couch, his expression hopeful for the first time since his father burst in.

He waved a dismissive hand.

"So, John, are you going to leave, or do I have to call the Aurors? Moody may have retired, but I have no doubt he'd be more than happy to pay you a visit."

John pressed his lips together in a tight, thin line, his eyes drifting between the two Crouches and his son. "This isn't over." He snapped, before apparating away.

His wand remained in Bartemius's hand, which he twirled around aimlessly. With a bemused blink, and a glance over at Cass, he said, "That went well."

"T-thank you." She managed to sputter out, staring up at her father with wide eyes. He simply nodded.

It was times like those when Cass was reminded that her life could be much, much worse. At least she didn't have someone like John Nott as a father, and the father she did have, when it came down to it, would evidently do the right thing, like he had that day. It was difficult, but Cass wrapped it around her mind, that maybe, just maybe, Bartemius wasn't all bad.