musical mood: fare thee well, miss carousel - townes van zandt

Padma woke up almost immediately after, having no recollection of what had occurred. The last thing she remembered was them talking about Cass and Henry, then bam, she was on the floor, without a single memory of what had clearly been a prophecy. Gone were silly Quidditch match predictions, Padma was now confirmed to be a full on seer.

They spent the rest of the train ride attempting to decode the prophecy, though no one could quite come up with an explanation for it, Cass included. The sibling bit, it could certainly be about her, but a lover's demise? Could it be referring to Cedric? What did that have to do with flames, though? Perhaps it was metaphorical?

They said their goodbyes with tight hugs, which Cass found a bit obnoxious, considering they were only parting for a few weeks, before she spotted Moody among the crowd of eager parents awaiting their children.

She remembered his odd note, the one he'd sent demanding she return to Grimmauld Place for Christmas break, insisting he had something to talk about. It had been so odd, what could Moody possibly want from her that was so urgent?

"Hello, Alastor." She greeted her guardian with a nod, not bothering to force a smile.

"Cassiopeia." He responded, reaching out and grabbing her good arm, before apparating back to Grimmauld Place.

It was empty, void of just about everyone who usually occupied the place, except for Lupin and Tonks, who were on the couch, deep in conversation. At the two's arrival, their heads shot up, and they smiled, though it seemed forced. Cass certainly knew a thing or two about forced smiles, so she could tell them apart with ease.

"Hello, Cass." Tonks waved at her.

"Hi..." She gave her an awkward wave back. Her and Tonks rarely interacted, their personalities clashing far too much for them to get along, even in the slightest, so Cass tended to avoid her.

"Enough chit chat, Crouch, we need to talk."

"Don't call me Crouch." She glared at him, gulping. What could they possibly have to talk about, and why did she feel so nervous about it, like her body was instinctively telling her to run, run far away and never look back?

"Sit, Cassiopeia." Moody emphasised her name as he motioned for her to sit down on the leather chair next to Lupin and Tonks.

She obeyed, and Moody plopped down in the chair across from her. "Let's cut to the chase, Cassiopeia. I know. We know."

It felt as though her heart fell out of her chest and to the floor.

"Know what, exactly?" She said slowly, trying to keep herself composed, when in reality, she could feel a panic attack growing.

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you."

It was Lupin's turn to speak, as he took a deep breath. "Cass, we know you're working for You-Know-Who."

If she had been panicked before, she thought she might physically pass out, as all the blood drained from her freckled face. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Cassiopeia, do you know what my eye can do?"

When she didn't say anything, Moody continued.

"It can see through clothes, if I so desire to look. I checked your arm when you returned from France, I was worried about you. I've known you've had the Dark Mark since this summer."

"I can't have this conversation right now." She began to jump onto her feet, but Moody whipped out his wand, aiming it directly at her. She stared at the tip, eyes wide and breath somehow even heavier than it had been before.

"Sit, Cassiopeia, or I will not hesitate to hex you."

"You wouldn't." She shook her head, though she wasn't sure how true her words were. Moody hated her, she could see it in his mad eyes. He hated Death Eaters more than anyone on this planet, and that was exactly what she was. If he hexed her, if he tried to kill her, she wouldn't blame him one bit.

"Don't tell me what I would and would not do."

She bit down on her tongue, debating what to do. If she ran, Moody would hex her, and probably wind up taking her to Azkaban. Though, if he wanted her locked up, he would've done so the moment she returned from France. He didn't want her in jail, for whatever reason, he simply wanted to talk. Not that she cared much for the idea either, but she supposed, the least she could do was indulge him, if not for a little bit.

Hesitantly, she sat back down, avoiding meeting his harsh, unreadable gaze.

"I don't know what you want me to say." Her voice was tight as she spoke, threatening to break as tears of shame began to build up in her eyes.

"I want to know why."

"You won't believe me. You never believed me."

"It's about your brother, isn't it?"

She nodded. "You think I'm mad, I know that, but I'm not, Alastor. He's alive, and I don't know what I can do to make you believe me."

"I believe you."

"...what?"

He took a deep breath, as Lupin shifted in his seat. Tonks didn't seem to be breathing at all, and for a moment, it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

"I said, I believe you. It's why you went to France, it's why Connor Moore got killed." At the mention of Connor, she stiffened, inhaling sharply. Fuck, she needed a calming drought, and fast. "I don't know how it's possible that he could be alive, but I don't think you've gone so mad that you'd hurt your friend. Something happened to him, outside of your control."

"Barty poisoned him." Her voice was just above a whisper as she spoke, her entire body shaking. She needed to get the truth, the full truth out, and fast. Before she changed her mind, thinking it could put Alastor in danger. He needed to know. "He used this dark form of magic to keep himself alive, called Blood Magic. He used it on me, when I was an infant. Our bodies - our souls, are bound. I could see him because he projected himself onto me. He didn't want me hurt that night in the road because he can feel any pain that I do. That's why our father kept him safe all these years, because any harm caused to him would affect me. And...if I didn't join the Death Eaters, he said he would hurt the people I love. George. My friends. You."

At her last word, his gaze softened, just as she willed herself to look up at her guardian - at the person she considered to be her dad. He was her dad, in a far more emotional way than Bartemius ever had been. In the end, Bartemius may have loved her, but he still had made so many mistakes in her childhood, mistakes she didn't think she'd ever be able to fully forgive him for. But Alastor, he'd done everything in his power to protect her.

"I should've believed you, Cassiopeia. We should have listened. I'm so sorry."

I'm sorry as well." Lupin said. Tonks gave Cass a small smile.

"Does George know?"

Moody nodded. "No one is going to tell on you. We understand that it wasn't your choice. You thought you were doing the right thing. But Cassiopeia, if anyone is in danger, we need to know. We need to be able to stop it."

She avoided his last statement, unsure if she could bare to tell him her mission, Theodore and Malfoy's missions. If You-Know-Who or Barty found out she told, it could get George killed, Alastor killed, Theodore or Henry or Malfoy killed. She refused to let that happen, to let the people she loved die for stupid fucking Dumbledore.

Instead, she asked the question she felt she knew the answer to already, but she needed to hear it for herself. "Why aren't you going to arrest me? Even if it was against my will, I'm still working for You-Know-Who. I'm still a...a Death Eater."

"Because, it's my job to protect you. You're my daughter."

*

They went to the Burrow on Christmas, and despite Cass's pleas to not make her go with, Moody insisted she attend with him. She had no desire to see George, after her humiliating last moments with him, even if he now understood why she did what she did, she didn't think she could bare to see him again.

Did anyone else know? Or was it just George? Had he told Fred? Chances were, he had. She doubted the twins kept anything from each other.

But instead of being greeted by George, like she had been so dreading, she was met someone perhaps even worse than her ex boyfriend. Harry bloody Potter.

"Hello, Cass." He gave her a smile as she entered the living room, his lightning scar visible under his messy black hair. Just about everyone had already cleared out to go to bed after exchanging gifts, Cass having already opened hers at Grim Old Place - this time, Moody had gotten her a potions book, likely sensing she wasn't fond of last year's headband. There was nothing from George, which she was thankful for. "It's nice to see you. George mentioned to us that you'd be coming."

Next to Potter, were Ron and Granger, both looking uncertain, avoiding meeting her eye. Shit, did they know? Was that why Potter was talking to her? What other reason would he have to remember she existed?

She suddenly felt the desire to get a calming drought, as her Dark Mark began to itch. She resisted the urge to scratch it through her sleeve.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Potter motioned towards a spare cup of tea that he apparently had. He grabbed it, handing it towards her.

"Er...sure." She hesitantly took it from his hands, sitting down on the couch across from him.

"Cass." Hermione jumped in, and she frowned at the urgency in her tone.

"Yes?"

"Er, never mind."

"Alright..." She paused, before lifting the cup to her mouth, inhaling the scent of the nice, warm tea.

The scent of lemon.

Cass froze.

It didn't take a potions genius to recognise a poorly brewed truth serum. Bethany had made the mistake of drinking it once, and that had gone horrible. One couldn't even take a sip without their darkest secrets slipping out.

Potter was trying to get information out of her.

He knew something. Or at least suspected. This wasn't good, no, this wasn't good at all.

She pretended to take a loud, obnoxious sip, though none of the liquid entered her lips.

"How are you, Cass? How are you feeling?" Potter leaned in, his green eyes meeting hers, a look of honest concern meeting her.

She had to play this cool, she had to pretend she'd drank the tea, so she could get him off of her back. She'd lead his suspicions away.

"Miserable. Suicidal. Grief stricken. How are you?" She frowned after she spoke, pretending to be surprised at the words that had slipped out of her. "Why did I say that?"

"I don't know." Potter shrugged. Granger pressed her lips together in a thin line, and Ron continued to pick at his nails, not looking up at all. He was pale, and clearly fighting back the urge to say something. "Cass, I know this might be a weird question, but you're friends with Malfoy, right?"

"Not really."

"Then why were you arguing with him the day Katie Bell got cursed?"

Shit. She had to think fast.

"He's dating a friend of mine. I didn't want him to hurt her."

Technically, that wasn't a lie. Well, Saoirse wasn't her friend by any means, simply thinking about the fourth year filled her with more guilt than she knew what to do with, but she certainly had something going on with Malfoy, and it was the first thing that came to Cass's mind.

"Who's he dating?"

"Saoirse Moore."

"Saoirse Moore?" Harry frowned. "I don't know her."

It wasn't a direct question, so Cass kept her mouth shut, not wanting to give any more information than what was absolutely necessary.

"Well, Cass, do you know if Malfoy is up to anything?"

"No. Why would I keep track of what Malfoy does? I'm not his mother."

Harry stifled a laugh at this, though Granger looked even more disturbed than she had before, her pale face tinted a slight green. Clearly, Ron and Granger didn't approve of Harry's attempted drugging of Cass, but couldn't argue with him, either. Bloody pushovers. Of course Potter could get whatever he wanted, get away with anything he did, free of consequence. Cass burned with anger just thinking about it. She hadn't had a reason to dislike the boy before, but now, she did, and she didn't think she'd ever be able to let this go.

"So, he isn't a Death Eater?"

"Not that I know of. Like I said, we aren't friends."

"Of course." Potter forced a grin, and she mirrored it, trying not to bare her teeth, which would surely give away her fury. "Sorry I asked."

A silence fell between them, one Cass prayed no one would break.

Potter eventually opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Moody came into the room, clutching his walking stick in his left hand. "Cassiopeia, someone is here for you."

She rose from her seat, grateful to get out of what was growing to be one of the worst moments of her life - which certainly said something. "Who is it?"

Before Moody could answer, a figure emerged from behind him, wearing an uncertain smile as he ran a hand through his bright orange hair. "Hey, Cassie."

Fuck.

"Hello, George." She stiffened, her breath stopping short. He'd cut his hair since she'd last seen him, suiting his jawline well. He'd lost weight as well, not much, but enough for her to notice. She wondered if he'd been eating enough lately.

It isn't your problem. She told herself firmly. It isn't your concern, what he gets up to.

"Can we talk?" He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Alone? We can go to my room. Fred is still at the shop. If you want. We don't have to."

He was rambling. Cass had never seen George ramble in her life. Was he nervous? What reason did he have to be nervous? It was she who should've been freaking out, seeing the boy who knew her darkest secret.

Cass met Moody's eye, who gave her a nod.

"Sure." She stood up, trying not to give away the fact that she was trembling.

"Brilliant." He gave her a smile, though it faltered. The two made their way up the stairs, closing the door to the twins shared room behind them, before George turned to face her.

"Listen-" They both said at the same time.

George let out a soft laugh, and Cass attempted to mirror his sheepish smile.

"You first." She said.

"Moody told me everything. That what Henry had told you was true. Moody thinks your brother is alive, and you weren't imagining him after all."

She nodded slowly.

"I'm so sorry I didn't believe you, Cassie. I know you'd never join You-Know-Who, not without being forced. I still don't fully understand, but I know he killed Connor, and he would've killed other people had you disobeyed him."

She pressed her lips together at the mention of her best friend. She'd done such a good job at keeping him out of her mind, every reminder of his death felt like a knife to the heart. Not his death, his murder, which had been her fault. All her bloody fault.

When Cass said nothing, he continued.

"Can we just...start over? I want to fix this. I miss you."

She shook her head, and George stumbled backwards, as though he had been shoved. "We can't."

"Why not? Is it because I didn't believe you? Because I'll do anything I can to make up for it, I promise. I'll always believe you. Fuck, Cassie, I'm so sorry I didn't. I'm sorry about that night, I'm sorry about everything."

"It has nothing to do with you, George."

He seemed relieved, at this, his voice significantly less strained when he spoke again. "What is it, then?"

"I'm engaged."

"You're what?!" His eyes grew to the size of saucers. She could've told him she was Gellert Grindelwald in drag and he would've been less shocked.

"I'm engaged. To Henry. You-Know-Who set it up over the summer."

George blinked, brow furrowing together. "That doesn't make sense. Why? Why would he get a pureblood and a halfblood engaged? What happened to blood purity?"

"He said that the Nott family needs to be brought down a peg, for betraying him to me about Barty being alive. Henry, he reckons something else is involved, but honestly, I couldn't care less."

"You...don't care?"

"Why would I? There's nothing I can do about it. But I'm trying, with Henry. We agreed to try, to at least attempt to have a happy life together."

George pressed his lips together in a thin line. "He loves you, you know that, right?"

She shook her head, giving him a sad smile. "I don't think he does, George. Not anymore, not the new me. Not the me that came after what happened to Connor."

He nodded slowly, understanding that she didn't want to be argued with. "I want you to be happy, Cassie. That's all. If it isn't with me, I'll learn to live with that."

She didn't know why his words hurt so bad. She hadn't wanted him to fight with her, to argue, but the hopelessness in his tone just about broke her heart in two. "I wish it could be different."

"In another life, maybe." He winked at her, though it didn't have the desired effect. "Until then...you know how to contact me. And if Henry doesn't treat you the way you deserve, I'll give him hell."

It took everything in her not to burst into tears, and only just managed to keep it together until he had exited the room. Tears ran freely down her face, as it settled into her that she could never be with George, not in this life, not in this world.

*

After Cass had composed herself, she went downstairs to the living room, telling Moody that she was tired and asking him to apparate them back to Grimmauld Place. He, likely noticing her red rimmed eyes and pale face, didn't object, taking her home and wishing her goodnight.

She didn't sleep. All she could think about were Potter and George. How she'd nearly had all the secrets of her, Theodore and Malfoy's missions spilled, had it not been for a simple error on Potter's part. She ought to write to the two boys the next day, let them know what had happened...

Every time her mind drifted back to George, she could feel her heart break over and over again, though she continued to push it to the back of her head, for one specific reason. Henry. She had made a promise to him. She had to at least attempt to stick with it, for both of their sakes.

Early the next day, she slugged down the stairs, having given up entirely on the concept of falling asleep.

"Alastor, do we have any coffee?" She rubbed her dreary eyes as she entered the kitchen. Moody was sat on the table, mad eye scanning a newspaper, and looked up at her arrival. "If not, can I borrow some change to go get some at Dan's Convenience? I'll pay you back, I promise."

"Cassiopeia, coffee can wait. You're going to want to see this."

He handed the newspaper over, and she swiftly ripped it from his hands, reading the front page, as a sinking feeling grew in her stomach.

MINISTRY OFFICIAL, HOGWARTS STUDENT KILLED

Rita Skeeter

On the night of December 25th, Death Eaters swarmed the home of high ranking Ministry official Sai Patil, and set it ablaze with fiendfyre. His wife, Kina, and two daughters, Parvati and Padma, both aged sixteen, made it out of the fire with their lives, Sai, alongside Anastasia Vasiliev, a sixteen year old Hogwarts student and friend of his daughter's, did not.

A dark mark was cast among the ruins of the burned down home, confirming that it was the Death Eaters responsible.

Sai is known to have taken over the position as Vice Minister for Magic, after Lucius Malfoy was put in Azkaban last year for conspiring with You-Know-Who.

A funeral will be held on January 2nd for Sai, in St. Adelaide's Gardens in Westminster, London from 4-6pm. Anastasia, who was a muggleborn native to Belarus, will have a similar funeral, both in England and in Belarus. More details on her services to come.

The paper slipped from Cass's hands, falling to the floor carelessly.

She was the next to fall, collapsing to her knees, not noticing the pain that shot up her legs at the rough contact with the tile. Her heart rate had not picked up, but slowed down, as though she was the one who was dying, and not her friend, not sweet, loving Anastasia, who hadn't a cruel bone in her body.

If anyone in the world deserved to die, and in such a horrific way as fiendfyre, it was Cass, not Ana, never Ana.

"No." The words left her lips in a whisper, as she clawed at the floor with her hands, her nails digging into the stone tile.

"Cassiopeia-" Moody stood up from his seat, bending down on the floor to meet her eyes.

"No!" She repeated, the words coming out of her in a scream. "No, not again! This can't be happening again!"

"It's okay. It's going to be okay." He pressed a hand to her back as she began to hyperventilate, a feeling overwhelming her that no amount of calming drought could numb. It was Connor all over again. "Just breathe, Cassiopeia, please, just breathe."

She shook her head, unable to do as he said. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to breathe again. "Not again, please, not again."