musical mood: this is me trying - taylor swift

By the next day, everyone in the school knew what had happened - that Barty Crouch Jr. had kidnapped the real Alastor Moody, put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire, killed his own father, got Cedric Diggory killed, and tried to kill Harry Potter. Everyone knew that he had gotten his soul sucked out the same day by dementors, and had laughed the whole time. Everyone knew that Cassiopeia Crouch, the seemingly unassuming fourth year Ravenclaw, had been involved in the entire thing.

The real Alastor Moody was alive, but barely, recovering in St. Mungo's, which Cass was relieved to hear. She didn't have his death on her as well. There was enough blood on her hands as it was.

Pomfrey had to give her a calming drought, when she had entered the Hospital Wing, because of how much she was hyperventilating, though no tears escaped her. The drought dose ended up being so high, that she collapsed into a deep sleep the moment she lay down on the bed.

She spent two days in the Hospital Wing, even though she could've left much earlier. She wasn't actually physically injured, after all, but she didn't want to face anyone just yet. She turned down all visitors, and would've stayed longer, had Pomfrey not insisted she get up and leave, to make room for new ill students.

So she did. But she didn't return to her dorms, no, she didn't think she could handle that quite yet, handle seeing people. Instead, she kept her head down, ignoring the stares of those she passed by, and made her way to the library.

There was a spot in particular she planned on hiding out in - behind the leprechaun tapestry, where she had hidden with the Weasley twins all those years ago, when the troll had broken into the school. It had been so long, and she'd been so young, so naive. Cass so desperately missed the days when her biggest problem was her father's neglect, and not her father's death.

She swiftly ducked under the tapestry, crawling into the alcove behind it, and hugged her knees to her chest. She didn't cry, no tears came out, but she took deep, shaky breaths as she allowed everything to sink in.

Cedric was dead. Her father was dead. Her brother was dead - or well, as close to dead as he could get. His soul had been sucked out, after all. That might've been the only good thing to come out of all of this. If anything, at least she no longer had to worry about Barty. At least he was dead, for real this time.

Apparently, Potter was claiming that You-Know-Who was back, to anyone that would listen. She didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, it made absolutely no sense, but on the other hand, it made all the sense in the world. It was a conundrum, really.

Not that she cared much for what Potter had to say. What did the motive matter, when everyone was dead anyways? Who cared? Everything had gone to shit, leaving a numb frame of a girl behind.

She pulled out her wand from her robe pocket, examining it. She could do it, she could cast the spell and end her life as well. It would be easy, easier than being judged by the entire school, at least.

Cass shook her head, putting her wand away once again. No. That was stupid. She wasn't going to kill herself, not yet, at least.

"There you are."

Cass shot up, reaching for her wand, but it was just Henry. She lowered her wand when he stared at her in shock.

"Woah, woah, relax, it's just me." He held his hands up in mock surrender. His long hair was pulled back into a bun, and he was sweating, as if he had run there.

"Sorry." She bit down on her lip. "You scared me, that's all."

"I can see that. Mind if I sit?"

She was just about to say no, but she could use the company, and Henry would be the last person to judge her for everything that had happened. "Go ahead."

"Brilliant." He plopped down next to her, crossing his legs like a pretzel. "I brought you something." Henry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle, no bigger than a can of muggle soda.

"What is it?"

"Dragon Shots."

She raised her eyebrows. That was about as strong of alcohol as you could get in the wizarding world. "How did you get that?"

"I know people." He winked, and that reminded her of George.

Fuck.

She didn't want to think about him, to think about how he was probably furious with her. She'd gotten Cedric killed, and even if George never liked Diggory, he was sure to hate her because of it. No one wanted Cedric dead, of course, and it was her fault. All her fault.

When she didn't say anything, he handed her the bottle. "Drink up."

"I don't drink."

"Today, I think you do."

He had a point. Maybe it would help, if not just for a little while. She needed a distraction, from the pain, from the thoughts.

Cass took a deep breath as she unscrewed the cap, and pressed it to her lips. The liquid burned as it ran down her throat, and she nearly spit it out, but she somehow managed to choke it down. "This is disgusting." She told him, yet took another sip anyway.

"Woah there, you might want to slow down."

"Shut up." A third sip, this time, she'd already grown used to the bitter, burning sensation. It felt nice, actually, if not a little relaxing. A distraction.

Henry snorted, grabbing the bottle out from her hands. "Right, I want some."

"How'd you find me anyways?" She said as he gulped down nearly half of the bottle in one go.

"The twins told me. Fred and George."

"And how'd they know where I am?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Figured you'd talked to them earlier or something."

She shook her head. "I haven't talked to anyone except for Pomfrey since...you know."

"Want some more?" He handed it back to her.

Cass nodded, taking a massive sip from the bottle. She'd already begun to feel a bit woozy, her head spinning, not too bad, but enough to notice. She imagined she'd have trouble walking if she tried. "This stuff kicks in fast."

"Tell me about it. I'm already seeing double." His eyes were unfocused, and it appeared as though he were looking straight through her.

She laughed.

"So, now that Pretty Boy is dead, are you going to go after good old Georgie?"

She probably should've been upset at the mention of Cedric, especially in such a fashion as that, but for some reason, it didn't phase her. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, or maybe she'd already somehow grown numb to it. She suspected the former - she doubted sober, she'd ever be over his death. "No way. He's dating Dahlia."

"Yeah, but Dahlia is completely insufferable. All the Burkes are, really. Their relationship won't last much longer, I can assure you."

"It's lasted a few months now, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, but I reckon George is just trying to make you jealous."

"Well, it's not working." She lied, and pressed the bottle to her lips once more, finishing it off. "I snogged Cedric, you know?"

Henry's eyes widened, his lips curving up into a lazy smile. "You did?"

She nodded. "I never told anyone. Then right after, it was the tournament, and his treasure was Cho."

"That ought to have stung."

"It did, but I had bigger things on my mind at the time. It didn't register to me for very long - I was just angry." Her words were slow, slurred, and she wondered to herself why she'd admit these things, to Henry of all people, yet she continued on. "I liked George better. And now I can't have either. Even if George wasn't dating Dahlia, he'd never date me now. Not after everything."

Henry didn't say anything, instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into his touch, against his warm chest. She could feel his heart beating, faster than it should, she thought. Maybe he was sick, or it was a side effect of the drinking.

"I'm sorry about everything, Cass." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It isn't your fault."

"It isn't yours either."

"Yes it is."

"There was nothing you could've done. Your brother would've hurt you. Do you know what I would've done if he'd hurt you? How I'd feel?"

"I'd rather be hurt than Cedric and my father be dead."

"I wouldn't." He shook his head, his chin resting on the top of her hair. The pressure was calming, grounding, just like the alcohol had been. She wished she had more, even though drinking more would probably give her alcohol poisoning, and that was the last thing she needed. "If something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do."

For some reason, this made her laugh. "You're weird."

"I know."

"Thank you for not hating me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because of...well, everything."

"I don't think anyone hates you for what happened, me least of all. It wasn't your fault."

"You keep saying that."

"I'll say it until you believe it."

And with that, Cass leaned up and kissed him.

Their drunken lips mashed together without any rhyme or reason, as Henry instantly began to kiss her back. His hands tangled through her hair, pulling her close. She could smell the alcohol in his breath, and he made no attempt to mask his clumsy nature, his lips going from hers to her jaw and back again. Despite having kissed Cedric in a literal bath, when he had been half naked, this was far more seductive, far more needy. Henry kissed her like she was a glass of water and he was a man dying of thirst. She kissed him so long and so hard, she knew her lips would be sore for days, but it didn't matter. He was distracting her, he was making her happy, and she craved that distraction, so deep it hurt. Nothing matters, while his lips were on hers, she could almost perceive a world where her father and Cedric were still alive, where Barty was dead and had been dead all this time, and all she had to do was focus on her drunken snog with Henry Nott.

"What the hell?!"

The two broke apart just as quickly as they had first collided, to see George and Fred Weasley standing at the opening in the tapestry, mouths agape.

"What do you want?" Cass's face went scarlet. Had she really just done that? Had she really kissed Henry? Had she been sober, she would've delved deeper into why on earth she would do that, but instead, she just giggled. Had she been sober, that likely wouldn't have happened in the first place.

"Er...Dumbledore wants you." Fred sputtered out.

Cass groaned, pushing herself up onto her feet, and nearly falling over as she did. "Again? That old man needs to get a life."

Henry snorted.

"Cassie, are you...drunk?" George stared at her incredulously as she struggled to keep her footing, his eyes darting between her and the empty bottle of Dragon Shots.

"As a skunk." Henry confirmed, his voice slurred.

"Shit, Henry, you're drunk too?" Fred was shaking his head. "Brilliant, I have to babysit you again."

"You don't have to do anything, actually." He pointed out.

"And leave you unsupervised? No way in Merlin am I doing that." Fred turned to George. "You bring her to Dumbledore, I'll watch Henry. Make sure he doesn't accidentally walk off a cliff or something."

"There aren't any cliffs in Hogwarts." Cass said.

"Yeah, yeah." Fred waved a hand. "Off with you two."

"I can walk by myself, you know. I know the way." Cass said to George as they walked out of the library, George's arm linked in hers as if to keep her upright.

"Not gonna happen." He said, his voice low. He seemed upset, Cass noticed, but she didn't bother to ask why. She was in too good of a mood, she wasn't about to let George bring her down with whatever it was he had going on. Maybe that was selfish, but oh well. She didn't have it in her to care.

"You shouldn't drink, you know. You're underage."

"Up yours."

"Oi, no need to be rude."

"I already have a father, I don't need you to pretend to be one." She rolled her eyes, before stopping in her tracks. "Well, I don't have a father anymore, but you know what I mean."

George stopped walking as well, the two of them standing in the middle of the hallway together. A few students walked by, giving them odd looks as they did.

"Cassie, do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, forcing a lopsided grin. "I'm good."

"Are you sure? Because-"

"We shouldn't keep Dumbledore waiting." She interrupted him, beginning to walk again, this time far faster than before, and George had to jog to keep up with her speed. When they reached the golden eagle that led to his office, George gave her a pat on the shoulder.

"I'll be here when you come back." He flashed her a smile, though it didn't seem very genuine.

Cass made her way up the stairs, giggling as she did. She had really kissed Henry Nott! And the look on George's face when he walked in...good grief, could he have been more shocked? The thoughts were so funny, she laughed all the way to the door to Dumbledore's office, barely composing herself before she entered.

"Hello again, Miss Crouch." Dumbledore greeted her from his desk. Flitwick was there as well, wringing his tiny hands nervously.

"Hello Professor Dumbledore." She nodded, trying to keep a straight face. Dumbledore, that was such a funny name. "Professor Flitwick."

"Come, have a seat." Dumbledore motioned towards the empty seat, which she approached without any nerves. Had she been sober, she probably would've been on the verge of a panic attack, but the alcohol proved to have a calming effect. Why had she never tried drinking before? The stuff was brilliant!

"Am I going to Azkaban?" She asked as she sat down.

"Of course not. You should know, the Hogwarts staff does not blame you for any actions you may have committed during your brother's stay here." The way he said stay, as if this were some sort of hotel and he was just an average man and not a raging maniac, made her giggle, though she tried to suppress it with a cough.

"Brilliant."

"We've called you here to discuss your guardianship moving forward. Of course, as a minor, you cannot live alone."

Oh. Right. She was an orphan now. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to Cass until now to concern herself with whom she would be living with. Perhaps she'd been too numb to care.

She nodded as a wave of nausea hit her. This could go so wrong in so many different ways.

"Alastor Moody has offered to be your guardian."

If Cass had been drinking anything, she would've done a spit take. "What?!"

"Of course, Alastor is currently recovering in St. Mungo's, so you will reside with the Weasley's until he's well enough." Dumbledore continued, as though she hadn't spoke.

"That-but-what-why?!" She sputtered out. "I helped Barty keep him kidnapped for months! He was in that trunk, right? I mean, I helped keep him in a bloody trunk!"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I believe the words he said when offering were, Crouch seems headstrong."

Headstrong?! Headstrong?! That was ridiculous - headstrong was perhaps the last thing she was. No, she was a coward, plain and simple, a coward who had allowed her father and Cedric to die.

Moody wanted her for revenge, she could tell, not for her personality. She was going to be tortured and killed by the Mad ex-Auror and she would deserve every moment of it.

She leaned over and threw up, the contents of the alcohol spilling all over Dumbledore's pristine stone floor.

Flitwick let out a yelp, jumping away from her, and nearly falling off of his chair as he did.

Cass's throat burned, and she looked back up at Dumbledore with watery eyes. "Sorry."

"No matter." Dumbledore waved a hand, seemingly completely unphased by the fifteen year old girl who had just thrown up in his office. With a flick of his wand, the puddle disappeared, as if it hadn't been there in the first place. "Now, if you please, Miss Crouch, I have some personal matters to discuss with Professor Flitwick alone. I hope you will come to find comfort in your new home."

Comfort? Yeah right.

She could've laughed, but she didn't, as she exited his office and walked back into the halls. She was still feeling nauseous, though significantly less so, and George was waiting for her when she returned.

"You look like hell." He commented with raised eyebrows.

"I threw up." She responded, deadpan.

"In Dumbledore's office?"

"Unfortunately."

"That's brilliant." His face lit up. "What did he say? Did he give you detention? I mean, he had to have been able to tell you're drunk off your arse."

Cass shook her head. "Nope. He just cleaned it up."

"Wicked."

"I'm living with you for a while, apparently."

"You are?"

"Yup, your parents agreed to take me in until Moody gets out of the hospital."

George's brow furrowed together. "Moody? What does he have to do with you?"

"He's adopting me."

"He's what?!"

"Yeah, that's what I said." She shrugged as she began to walk away, swiftly, so she didn't have to talk to him anymore. He was judging her, she could tell. She knew what he was thinking. It was obvious.

But no, George couldn't just leave her alone, as he jogged to keep up with her.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the library."

"Back to Henry, you mean?" He said Henry's name with disdain, like one might say a real nasty curse word.

Cass stopped in her tracks. She turned around to face him, slowly, as anger flooded her in just a matter of seconds. "What do you have against Henry?"

"Oh, I don't know, Cassie, maybe the fact that he got you drunk to snog you? Who knows how far you would've gone had Fred and I not shown up!"

"He's drunker than I am! And he did not get me drunk for the purpose of snogging me! He just wanted to help, and he did."

"How would you know?"

"Because I kissed him! Not the other way around!"

George's lips parted ever so slightly as he fumbled for what to say. "Fine. Go back to Henry. Be a slag if you want, snog someone instead of mourning like a normal bloody person. It's none of my business."

Her jaw dropped at the pure audacity of him. What gave George the right to speak to her like that?! "I...I don't see why you care."

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head, backing away. "I'm not having this conversation with you while you're drunk."

"Fine."

With a deep breath, he pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry about everything, Cassie. Really, I am."

And with that, he walked away.

*

Bartemius's funeral was two days later.

Cass used the Hogwarts floo network to get to the chapel - a small, run down one in a wizarding village up in the Scottish Highlands. No one came with her. Bartemius didn't have many friends at Hogwarts, it seemed.

Actually, Flitwick offered to come with her, but she declined. The last thing she needed was her Professor's pity. It was bad enough as it was, surrounded by his colleagues, eyeing her with sympathy. It made her want to puke.

He didn't have many friends, but plenty of Ministry workers showed up to pay their respects. The funeral was short, and nothing like Malcolm and Fionn's. There was no talk of heaven or an afterlife, or of him being in a better place. There was no time to share memories about him, or say a muggle prayer, or anything of the likes. It was bland, and boring, and superficial. Exactly how Bartemius would've liked it.

No one cried, Cass included. She hadn't cried once over him and Cedric as it was, and she wasn't about to start now. Not because she didn't want to, on the contrary. If she did start to cry, she didn't think she'd be able to stop.

The chapel cleared out right after the pastor finished his last speech, no one bothering to stay for visiting. They all had better things to do. Bartemius hadn't affected them, in life or in death, he'd simply been a passing figure, not one to get too close to. Of course, everyone now knew of his treachery, and those who had liked him didn't want to say so, in fear of being labelled a death eater sympathiser.

No one could've expected it. Bartemius Crouch Sr., perhaps the greatest hater of the dark arts in the Ministry, hiding his fugitive son in his attic. No one could've seen it coming, that his daughter would keep the secret for over a year, for what reason, they didn't know.

Cass didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, not yet, so she stood in the graveyard, arms crossed as she examined the various names. It was an old cemetery, with some of the graves dating back to the sixteenth century. At least Bartemius wouldn't be lonely in his new underground home.

"Cass?"

She didn't have to look up - she knew that voice instantly. "Hello Percy."

"How are you?"

"I'm grand. You?"

"I'm alright." He gave her a small smile, that looked odd on his usually placid, serious face. "I'm sorry about your father."

"I'm sorry about your boss."

"You warned me that he was messed up, that I shouldn't work for him. Was this what you meant?"

Cass nodded.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

"It's alright. What's done is done."

"I'm sorry about Cedric, too. George told me you two were close."

"George told you that?" Her eyebrows perked up. Why would George be talking to Percy about her and Cedric?

"Yeah. He talks about you nonstop. It's a bit annoying, actually. No offence."

"None taken. Thanks for coming. To the funeral, I mean."

"Of course." He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and Cass decided, in that moment, that maybe Percy Weasley wasn't all that bad. "I'll see you around, Cass."

"Yeah, see you around."

*

Cass chose to sit alone on the train ride back to Kings Cross. She didn't want to deal with people, with talking, with faking being alright. She just wanted some space.

She started off by reading a book, a muggle one she'd been given by Connor years ago. Les Misérables - or The Miserables. She could certainly relate to the title.

Once again, she considered delving into her fantasies, considered taking out her wand and ending it all. She'd never have to deal with another horrible emotion, never deal with the look of disappointment on her peers' faces, never have to speak to Moody or George or anyone else ever again.

But she didn't.

Eventually, she dozed off, her head leaning against the window as the train took her to her new home. Moody was still in St. Mungo's, but would be out any day now, and she'd have to meet him, have to face the man who she'd allowed to be locked in a trunk and tortured for months. To say she wasn't looking forward to it would be a severe understatement.

When she opened her eyes as the train came to a stop in London, she noticed she wasn't alone. First, she saw the feet, across from hers. Her eyes trailed up through the legs, the emaciated torso, and the thin, unfed face, the maniacal eyes.

"You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you, sister?"