31 - Dead Man Running

musical mood: dead man runnin'- seulgi


Sirius Black had been found in the castle that night, which was absolutely terrifying. The nutter attacked the Fat Lady portrait and everything. Cass couldn't help the pang of sympathy she felt for Potter, having the lunatic who wanted to kill him so close to you ought to shake you up a bit.

They had to sleep in the Great Hall on mattresses, because apparently crowding all the students together in a massive room is a good idea.

"Cass! Come sleep with us!" Naia waved at her, calling over a group of people as she had made her way to Henry.

She shifted her weight. They'd been apologising for weeks - Padma had told them all why she was upset, and while it could've been easy to forgive them, and it was tempting, she wasn't sure she knew how. But she couldn't shut them out forever, right? She had to share a room with them, after all.

With a heavy sigh, she walked over to them, and Naia's lips morphed into a beam of triumph. Other than, Bethany who was already in her mattress reading a book, everyone else also seemed to be overjoyed that she'd returned. Even Luna was grinning from behind her weird glasses.

"Sup." Parvati greeted, leaning away from Lavender.

"Hey." She gulped, sitting down on the spare mattress.

"How are you doing?" Lavender piped, looking uncertain.

"Exhausted." She said honestly. Today had been an emotional rollercoaster for her, between Cedric and Cho, her discussions about Connor, what George said about an unhealthy attachment...since when did George have emotional insight? She'd be angry at him for daring to suggest something like that, if she didn't know deep down that it was true. "All I really want is to sleep."

"Same." Ana yawned. "It has been a long day."

"Yeah, Merlin, we did so much walking at Hogsmeade." Padma nodded. "What did you get up to? Theodore said he saw you with Henry and those twins."

"Just hung out. Nothing special, really." Cass shrugged, pulling the blankets of the mattress up to her chest, ignoring thinking about her last conversation with George. Hopefully, closing her eyes would push the anxieties out of her life. Just for a while.

*

After a very...odd lesson, where Snape taught Defence Against the Dark Arts while Lupin was out ill, Cass made her way down to the kitchens, where George and Fred wanted to meet for another prank. Of course, she should've been wary, considering what happened last time...but she needed a laugh, and what was life without a little risk?

Tickling the pear caused her to lose a bit of pride once again, but she pushed past it and sat down at their usual table, where house elves surrounded her.

"Is Mistress Cassie hungry? Can we get Mistress Cassie anything?" One of them - Apple, she thought, squeaked.

"No thanks." She shook her head, before turning to the twins. "So, what's the plan this time?"

"I'm so glad you asked, Cassie." George winked. "We've devised a way to get back at pretty boy Diggory for breaking your heart."

"He did not break my heart!" She exclaimed, her cheeks burning scarlet.

"You don't have to lie to us, Cassie." Fred patted her on the shoulder condescendingly, and she shrugged him off.

"I'm not lying." She insisted, nostrils flaring. "Nobody breaks my heart, least of all Cedric Diggory."

"Yeah, let's just pretend we believe you." George snorted. "Anyways, we've improved our Ass Tonic."

"Oh joy."

"This time, instead of making them bray like donkeys, we took it a step further. The drinker will sprout ears as well!" Fred puffed out his chest, looking quite pleased with himself.

"I-what?! No! What the hell? I am not turning Cedric into a donkey!"

"Why not?" George raised his eyebrows, as if they were discussing her weather preferences.

"Why not?! Why not?! Because it's a terrible idea! I have no reason to do that - he's my friend. Friends don't turn friends into donkeys!"

"Technically, he's not being turned into a donkey." Fred tapped his pointer finger on his temple.

"Oh, my bad Fred, thank you for pointing that out. No, friends do not give friends donkey ears and make them honk!"

"Bray."

"Oh my God, please shut up."

"I don't think I will."

Cass ran a hand through her hair. "I hate you both so much. Seriously."

"We know." The twins said in unison.

"You know, if I kill myself one day, you two will be at the top of my suicide note!"

"Us? And not Cedric? He's the one who broke your heart after all." George tilted his head.

"For the millionth time, he did not break my heart! I don't fancy him!"

"It's cute when you lie."

"I am going to kill you."

"Speaking of killing," Fred interjected, changing the subject entirely. "I have a feeling Snape killed good old Lupin."

Cass blinked. "Er...that was random. Why?"

"I mean, he's wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts position for ages, according to Percy, and it's pretty obvious him and Lupin have some sort of bad blood. Did you see how Snape was glaring at him at lunch the other day? Merlin, I haven't seen him have that much hatred in his eyes. Except for maybe Harry."

"I didn't notice..." Cass bit down on her tongue. "I doubt Lupin's dead, though. He's been ill lately, hasn't he?"

"Maybe Snape's been slowly poisoning him." Fred commented without thinking. When Cass flinched, his expression soured. "Shit, sorry Cassie."

She forced a smile. "It's alright. It's been nearly two years, I'm over it."

Lies. She should be over it. But she wasn't.

"Right..." George eyed her, clearly not quite believing her statement. "It's possible he's just sick. I mean, look at all those scars. Maybe he was attacked by some evil creature that gave him a disease."

"Like a werewolf?" Cass frowned.

"Well, that wasn't what I was thinking...but it works. It is the full moon, after all."

"I doubt Dumbledore would allow a werewolf in the castle." Cass rolled her eyes. "Though he did somehow allow a man with You-Know-Who on the back of his head to teach us for an entire year...so anything is possible."

"Don't forget Lockhart, the bloody maniac. He tried to erase Ron and Harry's memories." When Cass stared at George, he continued. "Yeah, in the Chamber of Secrets. The spell backfired on him though, that's how he lost his mind. He's in St. Mungo's now."

"I suppose Hogwarts has a reputation for nutty professors, huh? Lupin seems nice though, even if he is a werewolf." She rolled her eyes at the last bit. As if.

"Anyways, back to Cedric and becoming a donkey." Fred rested his elbows on the table. "We'll make a deal with you. We've already come up with the potion instructions, stolen from a library book...if you start brewing it now, it should be ready in January, just in time for our houses to compete in Quidditch. If Gryffindor wins, we give Pretty Boy donkey ears and the like. If Ravenclaw wins, you do whatever your little heart desires. We'll drink it, if you'd like."

Cass took a deep breath. The Ravenclaw team was pretty good, so she had a good chance of winning this bet. She also knew the twins would never let it go if she refused, and seeing them turned into donkeys would be amusing...

"Right. Fine. You've got a deal."

*

Cass started brewing the potion that night, in their dorms. It was quite similar to the Ass Tonic, to which the twins called Ass Tonic 2.0. There were a few differences, of course, but it was generally the same, and because she had all the ingredients on hand, she didn't need to owl Mr. Mulpepper for any more. She feared the man was getting annoyed with her, or at least suspicious of what she consistently needed so many ingredients for.

Cedric won a spectacular victory in the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff match. Cass hadn't attended, since it was raining so heavily, but apparently Potter had fallen off his broom! Cedric, being the bloody lionheart that he was, insisted on a rematch, and when Cass congratulated him on his win, he insisted it wasn't a fair win, so there was nothing to congratulate him on.

He really didn't make it easy for her to get over him.

A few weeks later, during a match Cass did attend, Ravenclaw completely dominated Hufflepuff. She wasn't sure who to cheer for, but she decided at the end of the day, house loyalty was more important, and was exceptionally proud of Naia and Terry, even if she was still a bit mad at them.

There was another Hogsmeade trip as well, before Christmas break. Cass went with the twins and Henry again, who somehow managed to form an odd friendship.

"We need a name." Henry was saying over his butterbeer. They'd opted to go to the Three Broomsticks this day. It was more crowded, and the drinks weren't as good, but it had a more friendly atmosphere than the Hogs Head.

Cass raised her eyebrows. "A name?"

"For us. Our group. You have your Lady League-"

"Lady League?" She stared at Henry, bemused.

"Yeah, you, Vasiliev, little Johnson, the Patils, Loony Lovegood, Burke, and Brown. That's what me and Theo call you...well me. That's what I call you."

Fred and George didn't even seem to be listening, conversing about something completely different, as Cass eyed them, before leaning in. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "No. He hates me. There's nothing else to say."

"Theodore doesn't hate you!"

"Well, he won't talk to me. He's been all gloomy and depressed, haven't you noticed? I think he's mad that I left after mum died...but I couldn't stay in that place any longer. He didn't come with, even though he had the choice. Now he hates me."

She shook her head. "He's your brother, Henry. Those kinds of bonds are bound to hold, even when things like these happen."

"Whatever." He shrugged, forcing a smile. "Like I was saying, the four of us need a name, like your Lady League."

"I do not consent to that name."

"It's already set in stone. Sorry Cass."

"What about Cool People?" Fred piped.

"Cool People?" Cass stared at him incredulously. "Merlin, you really are dim, if that's the best you can come up with."

"You try one then, if you're so clever!"

"Yeah, go on Cassie." Henry urged with a smirk, earning a glare from George.

"Sorry mate, only we can call her Cassie. She's Cass or Crouch to you."

"Do I not get a say in this?" Cass asked.

"Nope." George patted her on the shoulder.

"What about the Cedric Haters?" Fred suggested, and this time George liked it.

"Wonderful idea!"

"So we're all agreed?" Henry raised his eyebrows.

"No! I don't hate Cedric though!" Cass said a little too loudly, earning glances from those around them. "You can't name a group after someone we don't all hate."

"Sorry Cass, but I think it's three against one." Henry snorted, and Cass groaned.


*

Henry and the twins perhaps made a stranger friendship then Cass did with the two redheads. At least Cass never had anything against the Weasleys, but it was in Henry's blood to hate 'blood traitors'. Even if he didn't actually care about those things, he'd never hidden his distain for the Weasley family. Cass assumed it was more of a class issue, which made sense. Muggles and wizards were the same, in the end, when it came to class. Stupid bloody Britain.

But no, they were now close friends, despite all of this, and were officially dubbed the Cedric Haters. Cass just hoped their group name didn't get back to him...

She'd been both looking forward to and dreading returning to Stromness for the Christmas holidays. She didn't want to see her father, per usual, but this time she also didn't want to face Connor, but she knew she had to. She needed to know, to confirm, if he hated her.

What she would do if he did...Cass had no clue.

She sat with what Henry dubbed the Lady League on the train ride back, though Theodore joined them this time. Cass was tempted to talk to him, to discuss what had happened with Henry, to help the brothers reunite, but she figured that it wasn't any of her business.

Similar to last year, after the break-in at Hogwarts with Sirius Black, parents didn't deem the school safe anymore, and wanted all their children back at home for winter break. Only a select few stayed behind, including Henry, even though Cass offered him a place at her house if he wanted to.

It was a long ride, as Cass waited anxiously to return to Stromness, to return to Connor, to make sure he didn't hate her forever.

*

Rain poured down from the dimly lit sky, the only light source being the moon and a few stars that peaked out from behind the dark clouds. Rain was not uncommon for Stromness Decembers, though it felt ominous, considering the situation at hand.

"Connor, open the hell up!" Cass banged on the Moore family's door, not bothering to push back the soaking wet hair that stuck to her face. "I know you're in there!" She'd been pounding on the door for minutes now, and she knew they were inside, she could see the light on. They were ignoring her. They knew.

Her stomach was in knots, her hands trembling as she repeatedly pounded on the wood. Part of her was sure Connor would understand, he'd forgive her for lying, he'd realise she had no choice in the matter. That him not responding to her letters had been a mistake - maybe his mother wasn't allowing him. Maybe he didn't receive them.

They'd been best friends for years, after all, he couldn't hate her now. Could he?

The door swung open, just as Cass was about to shout out again, and a tall boy now stood in the doorframe. It took a moment to recognize the person in front of her, but when she did, she let out a gasp.

Connor's blonde hair had grown out nearly to his shoulders, and was matty and unkempt, as though he hadn't brushed it in weeks. His usually bright hazel eyes had dark circles under them, and his kind, lopsided smile was replaced with a grimace that only grew worse as he made eye contact with her.

"What do you want, Cass? Or is that even your real name?"

She took a step forward. She could hear her heart beating, pounding in her ears, louder than her voice as she spoke. "Connor, please, I can explain-"

"Explain what? Explain that you've been lying to me for six years? I'm not an idiot, I worked it all out the day Saoirse got that bloody letter in July. Your friend Henry made it really obvious, too."

"You...knew all summer?"

"I'm not as stupid as you think."

"I don't think you're stupid."

"Clearly you do! Or am I just not good enough anymore? I'm not good enough to know that you have fucking magic!"

"Not so loud!" Cass hissed, glancing down the street to make sure no one had overheard. "Connor, please, can I just come in? Can we talk about this inside?"

"No."

She bit down on her lip. "Alright."

"You lied to me."

"I didn't have a choice. The law-"

"We all have choices! All of us. You chose to lie to me for six years. You chose to pretend to be my friend! What else are you hiding? What else haven't you told me?"

"Nothing! I am your friend!"

"Yeah, and I'm the bloody Queen. Why don't you just go burn like they did to the witches in Salem or whatever?"

"No one burned in Salem."

"See, this is what I mean! You think I'm stupid, you treat me like a pet project, like a therapy animal, not an actual friend. Seriously, Cass, you're such a bitch! You think you can come to my house after lying to me and try to give me a historical lecture?"

"Connor, come on. I'm sorry. Please, just listen to me. This doesn't have to change anything!"

"Of course it does! For fucks sake, I thought you and your father were just weird, like my family. I thought you and me were alike. We were outcasts together. I thought I loved you, and I thought you loved me."

"I do love you-" She took another step forward, but Connor pushed his hand out.

"No you don't. Not the way I did, at least."

Here it was. "...did?"

"Haven't you heard a word I've been saying? We aren't friends. We never have been friends. You're just...the girl that lives across the street from me."

The door slammed shut. It was over.

And that...that was her worst fear. That was her boggart.

*

Cass wasn't sure how she got inside. She didn't remember moving her legs. She didn't remember opening the door to her house, or collapsing onto the floor in a mess of sobs. She didn't remember Winky seeing her, and immediately rushing to get Bartemius.

The elf must've known whatever was wrong was really, really bad. Not her usual teen girl emotions. No, her life was over.

What she did remember, was Bartemius sitting down on the ground next to her, wrapping his arms around her, and allowing her to sob into his chest like a child might. He didn't ask questions, he didn't say a word, he just let her cry.

Maybe he knew. Maybe he figured it out too. Maybe Catherine Moore had said something to him in a fit of anger, called him a heathen or a satanist or whatever other nonsensical insults she threw around.

If she wasn't so distracted by her heartbreak, she would've dived into the emotions that her father was there, on the wood floor, allowing her to sob into him. This was something she never, ever in her wildest dreams, would've imagined happening. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

"Connor..." She cried out, her heart aching as she did. When dementors attacked, they sucked out your soul, they made sure every ounce of happiness was gone. Cass imagined this was what that felt like. She didn't think she'd ever be happy again.

"It's alright." Bartemius's hand rubbed her hair, which was still soaking wet from the rain.

She shook her head, unable to say anything else. He was wrong, nothing was alright, nothing would be alright.

George had been right. She had an unhealthy attachment to Connor. The years of neglect from her father had built up into a massive mistrust of the world, and she'd projected them all onto one person to allow herself to fully and completely love. It was like a drug, the most unhealthy coping mechanism she could ever imagine, and it was all gone now, in one fail swoop.

Bartemius continued to hold his daughter tight, as the world crumbled down around her.

*

It was three days before Cass left her room.

Winky had brought her food and water, forcing her to eat, and she'd used the bathroom connected to her room, only occasionally, but other than that, Cass spent all of her time in her bed, the blankets held tight over her head and eyes closed. It was easier to sleep, easier to pretend to be dead, then think about Connor. Everything reminded her of him, even in her room.

When they'd use flashlights to communicate through their windows, when they'd sneak out and make paper planes in the night, seeing who's would go farthest. The little Edward the Confessor pin she'd bought him at Westminster and forgot to give him sat on her dresser, reminding her of the time he'd explained the saints to her.

"Edward's my favourite." He'd said one night, as they lay in the grass, looking up at the stars.

"Why? What did he do?"

"I mean, other than causing a war by ruining the line of succession last minute, he's the saint of kings, which I think is kind of badass."

"Is there a saint for queens?"

"I'm not sure. Probably." Connor frowned at this, pondering, before turning to her. "Maybe it'll be you."

"Don't you have to be Catholic to become a saint?"

He shrugged. "For now, yeah, but times change."

Every little thing brought back memories, memories she so badly wanted to erase, for a moment she genuinely considered obliviating herself. She might've, too, but she was worried it might cause her to go mad. The Crouch family didn't need a second child to go insane.

When she did leave her room, she went down to the kitchen. Maybe eating would help. Not peanut butter, though. Connor was allergic to it. Once he accidentally had some at their primary school, and had to go to the hospital in the mainland for two days straight.

Yet another thing that would remind her of him.

She stared out the back window, as she folded some cheese between bread. Cheese was good. Nothing about cheese reminded her of Connor. That she could think of off the top of her head, at least.

The afternoon sun reflected on the snow, the white becoming nearly blinding. She'd missed Christmas, and had a decent sized pile of gifts and notes from friends on her windowsill that she'd yet to look at.

When made her way back to her room, she sat down on the bed - eating on their dining chairs was so uncomfortable, and Winky rarely scolded her for eating in her room anymore. She was halfway through her sandwich when her eyes travelled over to her desk, in the corner of her room, against the wall.

Something stood out - a tiny piece of paper, crumpled up and untouched for a while, sparking her interest. A distraction. Great.

As she opened it, she recognized it immediately. It was the letter someone had forged from her father, all the way back in first year. She must've forgotten it on her desk before returning to school that year.

A tiny smile formed on her lips as she read it, the thin paper bending against her gentle fingertips. She'd almost forgotten about it, about the confusion and panic it had sent her into, which had seemed a bit overdramatic, now that she thought about it.

But as she re-read the mysterious letter, a tiny alarm bell began to go off in her head. An alarm that grew louder and louder and louder...

The handwriting. She knew it.

But that was impossible...

She was mistaken, surely she was wrong.

This was a fluke.

But she frantically went through her trunk anyways, pulling out Blood Magic, and tearing out one of the many love letters Quirrell had saved. From Barty.

With trembling hands, she placed it next to the forged one on the desk, and all the pieces began to fall into place.

"Oh my God."

The alarm in her head turned into a bell, a massive church bell that clanged with every realisation that she made, every realisation that she should've made a long time ago.

Clang

That's why Bartemius panicked when he found out she'd received a mysterious letter. Because Barty wrote it.

Clang

That's why Bartemius didn't want her spending time with the Moore's. Because Barty threatened them.

Clang

That's why he'd been so neglectful and mysterious her entire life. Because he was taking care of his son, and hiding him from the world.

Clang

There was no ghost that haunted their house. It was a living person.

Barty was alive.

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