musical mood: mirotic - tvxq

Cass's footsteps echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls as she practically ran to Dumbledore's office. Where that was, she had no idea, but she figured she'd find it eventually if she continued to roam around, or find someone who could show her.

She'd been up all night, the sun having barely risen when she decided now was the time to get out of bed and hunt down the Headmaster, to confess to everything. She'd been kept up with thoughts of nothing and everything, so incoherent that she couldn't process a thing.

For all she knew, she might end up in Azkaban for hiding her secret for so long, but it didn't matter. Azkaban couldn't be as miserable as living with the guilt and paranoia that she did currently. Maybe Azkaban would be a blessing in disguise, have the dementors suck out her soul and end everything.

"Cassiopeia."

Cass whipped around, heart pounding. She sighed in relief when she made eye contact with the person who had spoken her name - it was only Moody.

Ex Auror Moody. Best wizard of his time Moody. Someone who could help her.

"Professor."

"What are you doing wandering the halls so early? Constant vigilance!"

"I need your help." She said, hoping her voice was steady. While she was on the verge of a complete breakdown, he didn't need to know that.

Bartemius is dead.

Her fault.

Her fault.

Her fault.

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you, now?"

"Could you show me to Dumbledore's office? It's an emergency."

His eyebrows shot up. "An emergency, you say?"

She nodded, already growing frustrated by this conversation. Did he not understand what the word emergency meant?

"May I inquire on the nature of this emergency?"

That was perhaps the least Moody thing he could've said - who spoke like that?! He sounded like bloody Shakespeare, not the gruff Professor he usually was while he taught their classes. Oh well, maybe he was acting funny because of how early it was. She simply didn't have the time to care.

Besides, maybe Moody could help her. If she couldn't speak to Dumbledore, she could try him.

"I think something happened to my father."

His eyebrows perked up with interest, and his mad eye darted around the hallway, as if to confirm the two were alone. "Come with me to my office. We may discuss this further there."

Cass nodded, following him down the hallway, though she couldn't shake the feeling in her stomach that something was wrong. Surely, Moody would be the next best person after Dumbledore himself to approach with such matters, but it felt...wrong. But she couldn't quite place her finger on it.

Moody's office was disturbing, to say the least. The last time she'd entered this room, it had belonged to Quirrell, which had been rather barren and boring, outside of, of course, harbouring his Blood Magic book. No, unlike Quirrell, Moody's office seemed to have every possible creepy magical artefact you could think of, including a glass with what seemed to be ghosts reflected in it, and a chest in the corner that shook and yelled like a person was trapped inside, trying with all their might to break free.

Of course, that was impossible.

"Professor, this really is urgent." Cass said as Moody shut the door behind them, walking at an agonisingly slow pace.

"Right. Sit." He gave her a curt nod, motioning towards the empty chair at his desk.

She hesitantly took a seat, he doing the same across from her. His mad eye bore into hers, and she felt a shiver go up her spine. Suddenly, Cass regretted even speaking to Moody in the first place, something deep down was telling her he'd be of no help at all.

But of course, she was being silly. This was Moody, an ex Auror, and one of the best wizards alive. If anyone could help her, it was him. He was simply odd, that was all.

"Now, tell me, what's going on with your father?"

And she told him everything. Every shameful detail of the story, starting with how she discovered Barty was alive, via the handwriting in an old love letter, and ran away. How she hid it from everyone because she was scared of Bartemius going to Azkaban, but now that didn't seem to matter, if he was dead. He had to be dead, if Percy couldn't get ahold of him, if he was 'sick'. There was simply no other option out there, no reasonable explanation. He was dead - no, murdered, and her crazy brother was out there, on the loose to hurt more people.

She was probably next, but maybe that was okay. Maybe that was karma.

But Moody didn't have the reaction she thought he would. He didn't seem shocked by her tale, in fact, he seemed amused, and by the time she had finished speaking, the professor was at the cusp of laughter, shaking his head with a smirk plastered on his lips.

"And you were going to go to Dumbledore with this?"

"Yes?"

"Merlin, you silly, stupid child."

"I...beg your pardon?"

"You should know better than to trust that old fool by now, Cassiopeia."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Professor." She bit down on her lip, her heart rate picking up even faster than it had before. "Please, this is urgent. Barty, he could hurt someone at any moment. You need to get aurors out there to look for him!"

Moody just stared at her, his lips still curled in a smirk.

She paled, realization hitting her like a punch to the gut. She sounded delusional, she sounded like she'd gone mad. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Fine." Cass shot up from her seat, prepared to storm out of his office and find someone else that would help her - McGonagall, Flitwick, for fucks sake, even Snape might believe her! What reason did she have to lie about all this, after all?

But suddenly, she was glued in place where she stood, unable to move no matter how hard she tried. Like a body bind spell, but still upright.

Had Moody cursed her?!

Yes, yes he had, she realised almost immediately after, as he hobbled in front of her, leaning on his cane for support as he did and his wand in his left hand. "You stupid child." He repeated. "Do you have any idea what you could've done?"

She found her mouth was still able to move, and responded. "Professor, what's going on?"

"Stupid child." He repeated once again, his mad eye going crazy, spinning in circles. "You really didn't realise?"

Moody met her eye, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Realise what?" Cass spat, trying desperately to move, though she failed in this attempt. Whatever curse he had put on her was quite strong, it felt like invisible ropes were holding her in place, like an animal in a zoo. If she could, she would've clawed the Professor's face off. "That you're apparently a raging psychopath? My father is missing, my alive brother is on the loose, fucking help me!"

Moody began to laugh at this. "How on earth did you get into Ravenclaw, Cassiopeia? You're so bloody thick sometimes."

"Fuck you!"

"Now, that's no way to talk to family."

She would've froze, had she not already been forcefully still. She could feel all the hairs on her neck stick up, a heaviness in her chest growing. "Family?"

Cass thought she knew what he meant, but she had to hear it from him. She had to be sure she wasn't simply being delusional, paranoid. Her usual self.

"You never made the connection? Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire, your friend Nott being hexed, our father going missing? It's me, you blundering idiot!"

She let out a gasp, a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

Moody wasn't really Moody. Moody was her brother. Moody was Barty.

It all made sense now. The see you at Hogwarts in the note he had sent her, it was a mockery, a warning. He'd kidnapped, maybe killed the real Alastor Moody and taken his place. How had she not realised it? He had to spell it out for her! Maybe she really was thick.

"Fuck."

"Now, if I uncurse you, will you run and cry to Dumbledore like a little girl, or will you sit and have a proper conversation with your big brother?"

"I won't run."

She'd be stupid to. He'd simply curse her again, and where would that land her? In his grasp and on his bad side, endless things could happen. She could be tortured, killed, forced to endure everything the Longbottom's had, what her father probably was experiencing at this very moment.

"Good." With a wave of his wand in a nonverbal spell, she was able to move again.

With trembling legs, she stumbled over to his desk, practically falling into the seat across from him, hardly able to keep herself upright. She was shaking from head to toe, the anxiety coursing through her like a drug. One wrong move, one wrong word, and she was as good as dead.

"Why'd you tell me?" She asked after a moment of silence between the two. Her voice was wobbly, unsteady, and she hoped he didn't notice. "You...could've easily played it as if I were delusional. You could've simply calmed my fears and moved on."

"It was the simplest option." He shrugged. "Contrary to your recent behaviour, sister, you're smart. You likely would've figured it out eventually. Better you hear it from me first."

It was hard to believe that she was truly face to face with Barty again, for the first time since the forest. Having a real conversation with him, as if just a year ago he hadn't been thought dead to her.

"You know I could go to Dumbledore right now."

"You know if you even attempt to turn me in, I could have your father and that Moore kid killed with the snap of a finger?"

Cass's breath caught in her throat at the mention of Connor.

"What makes you think I care about either of them?" She tried to feign indifference. "Connor isn't my friend anymore. I've never liked our father. Why would you assume I'd save their lives in exchange for your freedom?"

"You're not a killer. Even if it was true that you didn't care for the Moore kid, you'd never sentence anyone to death."

"How would you know?"

"I've watched you for years, Cassiopeia. Watched you grow, from an isolated, misanthropic child, to someone who loves freely, to someone with friends and crushes and feelings." He spat out the last word like a curse. "If younger, colder you felt guilt at the death of Quirinus, someone who had tried to kill you, the you of the present would be destroyed. Not to mention what I could do to the people at this blasted school that you care about now. Father and your precious muggle aren't the only ones on the line."

At the mention of Quirrell, Cass's eyebrows shot up. How Bartemius said his name with such indifference, as if they hadn't been lovers, hadn't been each other's everything. He truly was mad.

That aside, he was right. Even if she didn't still love Connor with every fibre of her being, she'd never in a million years allow him to die, or her father.

"So Bartemius is alive?"

"For now."

"Where is he?"

"That, my dear sister, is a secret. But he's alive, and well. Or, as well as he can be."

She let out a sigh of relief before she was able to stop herself, and hoped it wasn't too obvious. He was alive. Thank Merlin. Maybe, somehow, if she really tried, she could find a way to keep it like that. She could find a way to keep Bartemius and Connor safe, and get her brother thrown in Azkaban at the same time.

Somehow, she would. Whatever it took to keep Connor safe, she'd do, but he'd never be safe until Barty was gone.

"So, you were the one to curse Henry? Why would you do that? He's harmless."

"He saw me speaking to our father in the restroom of that pub. A bit too aggressively, for him to not notice. I didn't want him asking questions, or remembering, for that matter."

"And what do you gain from putting Potter's name into the Goblet?"

"To get him to the Dark Lord, of course."

*

Cass had one thing on her mind when she left her conversation with her brother; suicide.

She could never, she would never, not when she didn't know the outcome. If she died, that didn't guarantee Connor's safety. If anything, it might get him killed alongside her.

What does it matter? The dark side of her said, the side she rarely let herself listen to, but she was in far too emotional of a state to block her thoughts. He was a terrible friend. He abandoned you. He hates you. Just let it happen.

Part of her wanted to listen, too. To allow herself to indulge in her fantasies of ending her life without giving a damn about what happens to the people she'd leave behind. She knew so many ways she could do it, as well. She'd brew her own poison, turn her wand on herself, or even attempt it the muggle way, with a rope and something high to hang it on.

But she couldn't. Even though the thought of her brother being so close to her made her want to literally crawl out of her skin and hide away, she couldn't allow something to happen to Connor, even if he hated her. And to a lesser extent, her father, who she'd never wanted dead.

No, Cass had a duty to keep people alive. When she'd succeeded in her mission in getting Barty incarcerated, or even killed, maybe then she could consider ending her life.

As she walked down the halls, pushing through the few students that were awake after staying up all night at the ball, she mentally repeated over and over to herself, keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

She couldn't cry, not in public, not when someone could notice and ask what was wrong. She wasn't sure she had the energy in her to lie.

Cass couldn't cry, she couldn't kill herself, she couldn't do any of the things she wanted to the most.

"Cass!"

Oh for fucks sake.

"Hello, Cedric." She forced a smile, which she could tell looked maniacal, but it was the best she could do. A few passersby turned to look at the two as he approached her, as if he hadn't been ignoring her for the past few weeks.

Maybe he should've continued ignoring her. It was for the best, after all. Better not become a person Barty could threaten her with. But what was she supposed to do? Not speak to him?

"I've been meaning to have a word with you."

"Have you, now?" Maybe being abrasive would get him to go away - it wasn't like it was out of character for her. Well, maybe to Cedric it was.

His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly confused by her odd behaviour. "Yeah, er, I was wondering if you could help me?"

She blinked. Cass, help him? What could Cedric Diggory possibly need help with?

"Er, what is it?"

"The second task is coming up."

"Yes....?" The and was absent, but still very much implied.

"I have no bloody idea what the clue is. From the egg that we had to get from the dragon in the first task. You're probably the smartest person I know. If anyone can help me out, it's you."

"Right." She nodded, a bit unsure. Was this a good idea? How was she to say no, though? "Er, yeah, sure, I'll help."

"Brilliant!" Cedric's expression melted into one of relief. "I can show you the egg now, it's in my dorm. Don't worry, all my dormmates are out already."

"In...your dorm?" Her breath caught in her throat. Had she imagined that?

"Er, yeah, is that a problem?"

Cedric wanted her to go to his dorm. Alone.

"No, not at all." She hoped the tremble in her voice wasn't obvious.

How could this go wrong?

She followed Cedric to his dorm, and anyone watching would've found this an amusing sight indeed, a fourth year Ravenclaw trialling after the Hogwarts champion.

The password to the common rooms was Butterbeer, which she kept in mind for later, just in case the twins wanted it.

Just as the thought of the twins entered Cass's mind, she pushed it right back out. There would be plenty of time to dwell on what had happened yesterday with George later, when she wasn't about to enter Cedric Diggory's dorm alone.

Like he had said, his dormmates were out doing whatever, leaving the two of them alone, as he shut the door behind him. The room was surprisingly clean, for one belonging to teen boys, with only some clothes scattered on the floor. No boxers in sight, thank Merlin, Cass didn't think she'd be able to cope if there were.

"Sorry for the mess." Cedric gave her a small smile. "It was kind of a last minute idea, enlisting your help. I would've cleaned had I thought to."

"No worries." She had far bigger things on her mind than a little mess. At least this was a welcome distraction.

"The egg is in here." He walked over to a trunk at the base of what she assumed was his bed, and opened it. Inside, he pulled out a massive golden egg - the one that he had to rescue in the first task.

It was beautiful, with small designs trailing the exterior, like it had been handcrafted by Michelangelo himself. Though, she doubted Cedric knew who that was. Bloody purebloods.

"Right, so, what does it do?"

"Well, that's kind of the problem." His lips pursed together, as he put a hand on the top of the egg, and began to twist it. "You might want to brace yourself."

Before Cass could, a massive scream emitted from the egg, louder than anything she had ever heard before. She instinctively brought her hands to her ears, covering them, as Cedric twisted the egg shut again. When the screaming finally came to an end, did Cass remove her hands, eyes wide in shock.

"What the hell was that?!"

"I don't know." His shoulders sagged, as he set the egg down on his bed. "It's the only clue we've got."

"A screaming egg. Brilliant." Cass folded her arms across her chest, searching her mind as best as she could for an answer. Something in the back of her head was ringing, a tiny bell, that she couldn't quite hear yet.

"Sorry if this was a waste of time. I just...like I said, you're the smartest person I know."

"You must not know many smart people, then." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh come off it, Cass, you're bloody brilliant and you know it."

"I'm not brilliant enough to decipher the language of a screaming egg."

"Is anyone?"

She shrugged, letting out a small laugh. Despite the day she'd had, maybe something good could come of it. Maybe Cedric would cheer her up, if not for a little bit, and get her mind off of everything.

"Are you and George back together?"

Well, wasn't that an odd change of subject.

"No." She said simply, not wanting to think about George. Not wanting to think about last night...him confessing his feelings for her, her turning him down...she ought to apologise, if he'd even speak to her again. "Are you dating Cho?"

"No." He threw her basic answer back at her.

"Brilliant." She shifted from foot to foot.

"Do you care if I'm dating Cho?" Cedric asked after a moment of silence, eyeing her up and down, as if searching for an answer.

"Should I?"

"I mean...I care if you care. If you know what I mean. I'd like you to care who I date."

"Mermaids!" Cass exclaimed suddenly, whipping towards the abandoned egg.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It's speaking Mermish! Your egg! That's why it's screaming - you need to put it underwater!"

"How do you know that?"

"My father speaks Mermish."

"Your father speaks Mermish?" Cedric stared at her incredulously.

"He speaks over one hundred and fifty languages." She waved a dismissive hand, as if everyone on earth had that ability. "You ought to put this in a bath or something. It'll tell you the actual clue."

"We could go to the Prefects bathroom now. I'm sure it's empty, it's early enough, and the bath is really big, so it should work. It's practically a pool."

"We?" Cass blinked.

"Well, yeah." Cedric shrugged. "I imagine there will be a riddle or something, which I'll need help with. If that's okay with you."

Well, a distraction from Barty was what she needed, and taking a bath with Cedric Diggory certainly was that.