musical mood: the show must go on - queen

When Cass opened her eyes, the first thing she was met with was the blurry face of George Weasley. Well, she assumed it was George, her vision was so unclear she couldn't quite tell, but what reason would Fred have to be hovering over her like a concerned mother?

"Where...where am I?" She murmured, attempting to sit up, though a hand on her shoulder prevented her from doing so. Not George's hand, someone else's. Alastor's, she realised, as she glanced to her left.

"You're at the Burrow." His tone was even more gruff than usual, and as her vision cleared, she could see his mad eye swivelling about. He let go of her shoulder, and she didn't try to push herself up this time, though it was tempting. Her head was spinning with every gentle movement she made, and her entire body ached, like she'd been in a car crash. "No one could get a direct answer for us as to what happened, or why you're covered in blood."

This was clearly an invitation for her to explain her version of events, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. As she breathed in and out, chest heaving with effort, the memories of that night came flooding back to her like a tidal wave.

"Henry..." She finally managed to whisper. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a tear run down her cheek.

"Henry?" George frowned. "What happened to him?"

Did they not know? Had they left the battle so soon after, they didn't find the victims?

"Theodore, he killed him." She choked back a sob, and George's eyes widened. "Henry's dead. Is Dumbledore...?"

"Dead. Snape killed him." Alastor nodded, his tone unreadable. She tore her gaze away from him, instead looking around her surroundings. She was on the couch in the living room, and all of the other Weasley's were there, plus Lupin, Tonks, Fleur Delacour, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, all doing their own things. No one seemed to have noticed she'd woken up.

"We tried to stop it." She continued, her voice trembling. "Henry and I. We went to stop it. But then, Theodore...he killed him. I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to do, I wanted to protect you guys..."

Alastor shook his head. She refused to look at George, she could only imagine the disappointment he felt towards her. The disgust. "It isn't your job to protect us, Cassiopeia. It's my job to protect you, not the other way around. It isn't your job to protect anyone else but yourself."

"Yes it is, Alastor!" She cried as she sat up, and this time, he didn't try and stop her. "I didn't do enough of a job protecting my father or Cedric, and I'm paying for that every single day. And I didn't protect Connor, or Ana, or Henry, oh my God Henry..."

Her breathing grew shallow again, as images swarmed her mind of Henry's bloody, mangled body. Him dying in her arms. His last words to her, asking if she loved him. Oh, how she wished she hadn't. Maybe if she didn't love him in the end, she wouldn't be hurting so much right now.

"Lavender Brown said you were hit with the killing curse." George eventually spoke. "Is that true?"

She nodded slowly, tears streaming down her freckled face. She didn't need to explain how she survived, they both knew about the Bond by now, and understood just how real it was. "Is Slughorn dead?"

"Slughorn?" Alastor frowned. "No, he's fine, as far as I know. Why?"

"Theodore was supposed to kill him." She gulped. "Is anyone else dead?"

"Just some Death Eater. Gibbon, or something like that." George shook his head, and she let out a sigh of relief. Though her relief didn't last long, when he spoke again. "Cassie, I just don't understand, you knew this was going to happen? You knew Malfoy was going to try and kill Dumbledore?"

"I did." She admitted, her voice tight, not prepared for the hate they were going to spout, but also not wanting to lie to them any longer. "I thought...I thought it would be okay, if Dumbledore died, because I'd be keeping you safe. You-Know-Who promised not to hurt you two if I did as he said. I had to help Malfoy..."

And marry Henry. Was what she silently said.

"You told me you weren't under any orders." Alastor said. "You told me that just because you were forced to join, that didn't mean to you had to do anything yet."

"I lied. I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry!"

No one said anything for a long moment.

"You should take off your clothes." George eventually said, and she frowned.

"What?"

Alastor gave George a similar look of confusion, and he swiftly continued. "I mean, you're covered in blood. You should change, borrow some of Ginny's clothes. They should fit fine."

He was right. She was drenched in blood - Henry's blood, that even had stained the tips of her long brown hair. "You're right." Cass said as she pushed herself onto her feet. She wobbled for a moment, nearly crashing down to the floor, but managed to keep herself upright. "I'm going to go shower, if that's okay."

She didn't get an answer from Alastor or George as she swiftly made her way up the stairs, slamming the bathroom door behind her and locking it shut.

Cass didn't look in the mirror, she didn't think she could handle seeing the blood that must've covered nearly every inch of skin. Instead, she peeled off her soiled clothes, and hopped into the shower. The water was kept at the coldest possible temperature, as Cass watched the blood drip off her body and collect below her in the murky water.

Henry was dead.

Bartemius. Cedric. Connor. Ana. Henry.

How many more people was she going to lose? How many more of her friends would be violently ripped from her hands, while she simply stood by, unable to stop it?

She couldn't even blame Barty, not anymore. He'd become the bane of her existence, but Henry's murder had nothing to do with him. If anything, Barty had seemed...upset, that Henry had been killed, when he'd appeared next to her. She hadn't thought her brother had the ability to mourn, but she couldn't think of another way to describe what emotion he had been presenting.

When Cass stepped out of the shower, shivering from the cold water, she finally allowed herself to stare at her reflection. She'd gained some of the weight she'd lost over the previous summer back, but her cheeks were still hollow, her face remaining gaunt, her brown eyes just as lifeless. A life she imagined she'd never get back, just as Henry would never get his.

She swiftly tucked a towel around her body, having forgot to snatch some of Ginny's clothes, as she was so desperate to get in the shower and cleanse herself of her husband's blood.

When she exited the bathroom, opening the door, she walked straight into George, who was standing directly outside of the door.

"What the fuck?!" She stumbled backwards, only just keeping the towel over her naked body. "George, what the hell are you doing?"

"I...I was waiting for you. I wanted to talk."

"Can it wait? I'm literally naked." She stepped past him, and walked into Ginny's room, George trailing behind her like a dog to their owner. Ginny was absent from her room, likely downstairs with the rest of her family. When she opened the closet, she turned to George. "Which clothes of her can I borrow?"

"How would I know?"

"Er, you're her brother. What doesn't she wear?"

A small smile slipped onto his lips. "You really think men pay attention to what their sisters wear?"

"Suppose not." She shrugged, yanking off a small sweater and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms from their hangers. "Think she'll mind if I take these?"

"I doubt it." He said, remaining stationed in his spot.

"Are you going to turn around, or...?"

"Right, right, yeah, sorry." He let out an awkward laugh as he turned his back towards her.

She dropped the towel, feeling a bit awkward as she pulled on Ginny's clothes. Sure, George wasn't looking at her, and even if he had, he'd already seen her naked, but it felt odd nevertheless, to have him in the room while she changed.

"You can turn around now." Cass said after she finished tugging her arms through the sleeves of the hoodie. It was a bit tight on her, as Ginny was quite smaller than Cass, but they were comfortable enough.

"You're not wearing a bra." Was the first thing George said after he turned around, his eyebrows raised.

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to come off as embarrassed. "Mine was covered in Henry's blood. And forgive me if I don't want to steal one from your sister."

"That would be a bit odd, wouldn't it." A sad sort of smile formed on his lips, as he took a step towards her. "I'm not mad at you, Cassie. I know you thought you were protecting us. But...if it comes between me and saving the wizarding world, I want you to choose the world. I'm okay with dying, if it means everyone else gets to live, and I know Moody feels the same."

She didn't reply to him, unsure of what to say. They were right, and in the end, she had been prepared to sacrifice them, with Henry, when they'd attempted to stop the assassinations. But now, after losing yet another loved one, she wasn't sure she'd be able to do it, in the end.

"I'm sorry about Henry, too. I know you cared about him."

Cass pressed her lips together. She didn't want to lie to George, he deserved to know the truth, the full truth about the nature of her and Henry's relationship. "We got married."

He blinked. "You did? When?"

"February. On my birthday. We...we didn't want to wait any longer. We didn't want to have a wedding with Death Eaters and You-Know-Who in the audience. We wanted it to be on our own terms."

"That makes sense." He nodded slowly, though his gaze trailed off, as if debating whether or not to speak. "Did you...did you love him?"

She took a deep breath. "In the end, yes, I did."

No more questions came from him, instead, he simply nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I am too."

*

All Cass wanted was a calming drought, but all of her things were left at Hogwarts, including her potions materials. She hadn't had such severe cravings for the potion in the past few months, but that was because she had been happy, and now, she wasn't sure she'd ever be happy again.

So instead, she stayed up all night, sitting on the couch, watching a pair of knitting needles magically create a scarf. George had tried to stay up with her, but he'd eventually gone to bed, exhausted, and even Alastor had grown too tired to keep her company.

That was good. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to have time to think about her husband.

Henry had died in her arms. She'd been unable to save him. Even though she'd washed herself, every time she looked down at her hands, they were coated in blood. Henry's blood. The red would disappear after a moment, leaving her palms clean, but it was still there, she could still feel the thick liquid coating her hands, like a ghost haunting her.

Cass was a widow. At seventeen years old, she'd been widowed, like a medieval peasant. Wasn't she too young for this? Weren't they all too young for this, for war?

In the end, it didn't matter. Death doesn't discriminate, and neither does war.

The next several days were spent in a state of pure emotional agony. Cass talked to George, and to Alastor, but that was about it, preferring to spend her time holed up on the couch, reading various books Percy Weasley had left. She could tell everyone at the Burrow resented her, for what had happened to Dumbledore. For what she had done, and hadn't done to stop it.

It was okay. She hated herself too.

More people began to move into the Burrow, as time went by. Lupin and Tonks, Fleur Delacour, who was apparently engaged to Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger, and more. Practically the entire Order of the Phoenix. Now that Grimmauld Place had been compromised, the Burrow was apparently the Order's new headquarters. The only notable person absent was Harry Potter himself, and that of Barty. He hadn't shown up once since she'd left Hogwarts, which was shocking to say the least, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was late in July when George approached Cass on the couch, sitting down next to her with a hesitant look on his face. "Hey, Cassie."

"Hey." She greeted, not looking up from her book.

"What are you reading?"

"War and Peace."

"It looks long."

"It is." A gentle laugh escaped from her lips. "Is there something you want, or..."

"Do I have to want something to sit by you? Can't a man just want to talk to a pretty girl?"

Her smile faltered.

George noticed this, as he pressed his lips together, tearing his gaze away from her. "Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't flirt with you. You're mourning."

"It's alright." She shrugged, taking a deep breath and looking to meet his eye. "George, I know because I'm out of the Death Eaters now, and because I'm not with Henry anymore, you might think we can get back together. And maybe we will, someday, if it doesn't put your safety at risk. If Barty allows it. I need time, okay? I...I loved Henry. I really did."

"More than me?" He asked, the words seemingly spilling out before he could stop them, and Cass froze. How was she supposed to answer that? Why would he even ask such a thing, put her in that position? He seemed to recognise his mistake, as he swiftly jumped in. "Shit, Cassie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask that."

"It's fine." She pressed her lips together. "To answer your question, no. I didn't love him more than you. But I didn't love him less either. I loved you two in different ways, under different circumstances, but no less equal. I mean, fuck, George, he was my husband."

"Who was your husband?" A voice jumped in, and the two whipped around to face Alastor, who was leaning against his cane in the doorframe, his mad eye fixed on the two.

"Nothing, no one. It doesn't matter." Cass stood up to leave, but Alastor stood in the doorframe, keeping her from moving.

"Cassiopeia." He said simply. "Don't lie to me. Please."

Her heart nearly broke in two.

"Henry." She whispered. "We got married. You-Know-Who wanted us to. He wanted to bring the Nott family down, for betraying him, by telling me that Barty was alive."

"I see." Alastor stared at her for a long moment. "Were you happy, with him?"

Cass nodded, gulping, as tears began to prick at her eyes. Glancing up at the ceiling, she willed her tears not to spill.

Eventually, Moody spoke, not to chastise her, or judge her, or feel sorry for her, but only to say, "I wish I could've been there."

*

"I don't understand, why do you have to do this?" Ginny was close to tears as she stared between her four present older brothers and her father. Molly rubbed her shoulders, comforting her daughter, though by the look on her face, she could do with some comforting himself. "This could go so wrong. I care about Harry, you know I do, but I can't risk you all dying for him."

"I agree." Cass sniffed, close to crying herself. "You guys, please, don't do this. Harry can ride a muggle train or something here, it's much safer."

"Cassie, we have to do this." George placed a hand on her shoulder. Alastor was next to him, his stick in hand. He was to lead the group that was to fetch Potter, with an overly complicated plan involving Polyjuice potion and thestrals. Even Hagrid and Kingsley were there to help, because everyone was just so fucking obsessed with Potter. He had to live, at the risk of all these people, people Cass loved.

"They might, but you don't have to, though." She stared up at him, her brown eyes wide in a silent plea. "Please, you can stay here. They don't need you!"

"They need as many people as they can."

"Then let me go with! Let me help, let me protect you guys!"

"Me too!" Ginny said, wiping a stray tear with the palm of her hand. "Let me come with."

"You're too young." Molly insisted to her daughter. "You aren't seventeen yet, you still have the trace on you, if you use magic."

"And what about me?" Cass folded her arms together. "Why can't I come with?"

"You don't have a wand. Even if you did, do you really want to face Barty, Cassiopeia?" Alastor raised his eyebrows. "Chances are, he'll be there, and if he sees that you are, he'll do anything to get you back, I trust. Besides, I need you safe."

"I need you safe!" She cried, the tears that had been threatening to spill running down her freckled cheeks. "Please, please don't go."

"Cassiopeia, it will be alright." Moody looked down at her, meeting her eyes. "We'll all be alright, I promise. I'll come back. We all will."

She gulped, turning to George. "You have to promise me too. Promise me you'll come back."

"Of course, Cassie. I promise." Before she realised what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. She melted into his touch, hugging him back before she could stop herself. "I'll always come back to you, I swear."

*

Waiting was the worst torture Cass had ever experienced. Forget the death of her loved ones, at least she knew what was happening. At least she wasn't stuck there, waiting, not knowing, not able to do anything but sit there like an idiot.

"It's going to be okay." Molly would say to the two girls, over and over again, though it was more like she was trying to convince herself. Her husband and four sons were out there, the poor woman must have been frightened. "They'll be fine. They'll be okay."

The first to arrive were Hagrid and Potter, with a few bumps and bruises but were generally unscathed. Though, Potter was a wreck over the death of his owl, Hedwig. Cass couldn't help but feel bad too, for the death of a defenceless animal.

Potter sat next to Ginny on the couch, his breath heavy as they awaited the rest of the crew. "We were ambushed." He explained to Ginny and Cass as Molly tended to Hagrid's wounds. "Someone leaked it to the Death Eaters. We've been betrayed."

Ginny's brown eyes flickered over to Cass.

"What?" She stared back at her, a furious red flush creeping onto her face. "Do you think I did it? You think I'd do something to hurt George, to hurt Alastor?"

Ginny paused for a moment, before shaking her head, though she didn't say a word as she looked away, and back at Potter. Cass noticed Potter and her were holding hands.

Several minutes went by before the next arrival, a loud snapping sound signalling someone had returned. The three, plus Molly, rushed onto their feet and raced towards the door just in time to see Remus Lupin stumbling towards them, holding a barely conscious boy up with an arm over his shoulder.

"Oh my God, George!" Cass cried as the two grew closer. George was covered in blood, his face hardly recognisable through the crimson liquid. Her heart seized in her chest

"Get out of the way!" Lupin yelled, and they obeyed, giving the two room to get into the house. He let George down gently on the couch that they had been seated on, and Cass ran over, falling onto her knees in front of him. The blood was seeping from his ear - or what had once been his ear, as there was no longer an ear there, but a gaping hole.

"What happened?!" She whipped around to Lupin, as George let out a strangled sort of moan. She didn't try to conceal the fact that she was crying, as her heart pounded to the beat of her only thought; not again, not again, not again.

"He was hit by some curse. I don't know which." He shook his head, as Molly began stroking George's forehead. "He's going to be okay, Molly."

"Yeah, mum, don't worry, I'm all good." George gave her a weak thumbs up, and Molly let out a sob.

Cass reached down, grabbing George's hand and gently holding it. "You promised me you'd be okay, George! You promised!"

"I am okay, Cassie." He squeezed her hand back, though his grip was soft, too soft, too weak. "I'm more than okay, I'm saintlike."

"What?"

"I'm saintlike, Cassie. Get it, because I'm holy." He pointed at the hole that had once been his ear, his lips curled up in its typical George Weasley smirk. "Holy, holey, get it?"

She let out something between a laugh and a sob. "You're really joking at a time like this?"

He gave her a wink, and she took a deep, shaky breath. He was hurt, but he was okay. George was going to be okay, everyone was going to be okay. They had to be.

More and more people slowly returned, as the hours went by. First, Kingsley and Granger, then Arthur and Fred. George made the same saintlike joke to Fred, who found it far more amusing than Cass had. She didn't move from his side, his clammy hand still in hers for hours upon hours. He eventually fell asleep, around the time that the bleeding stopped, as Molly continued to stroke her son's forehead.

Ron and Tonks came back later, much to Granger and Potter's relief.

It was nearing midnight when Bill and Fleur returned to the Burrow, both alright, though Fleur had a massive gash on her beautiful cheek.

Though the relief at their return didn't last for long, as Bill spoke, his tone full of remorse and his eyes fixed directly on Cass. "Mad-Eye's dead."

"No."

"Cass-" Remus began, taking a step towards her with an outstretched arm.

"No." She repeated, shaking her head. "No, he said he'd come back! Where is he?" She whipped around to Bill, panic filling her veins. "Where is he? Bill, where is he?"

"Cass, I'm so sorry." He shook his head. "We'll look for his body tomorrow. We'll arrange for a funeral, before our wedding."

For a long moment, she said nothing, simply staring at Bill, trying to comprehend that he wasn't joking, that he was entirely serious about the news he'd delivered to her. "He said he'd come back."

"I'm so sorry." He repeated, but she didn't respond to him. Instead, blinking back tears, she shoved past him, their shoulders brushing against each other as she made her way out of the Burrow, and into the watery grass outside.

"Cass-" She heard Remus trying to chase after her, but she ignored him, as she stared up at the sky, at the stars and the moon that Alastor would never see again.

Then, she sank to her knees and screamed.

*

Cass's head was rested on the edge of the couch that George was stretched on, her eyes fluttering open and closed. She couldn't decide which she preferred, the nothingness of her closed eyes, or the calming aura of the Weasley's home with them open.

She wasn't going to be able to sleep. Her heart was beating too fast to even consider resting, like she'd just ran a marathon.

Alastor was dead.

Her dad was dead. Bartemius had been her father, but Alastor had been the one to end up as a true dad to her. To treat her like his child. They'd got off to an odd start, and they'd had their moments, but at the end of the day, he was more of a parent to her than Bartemius ever would've been. He'd loved her, and she'd loved him.

And he was dead.

If Cass hadn't been so heartbroken, she would've been angry. He'd promised her, that they'd all be okay. He promised her that he'd come back.

She was about to close her eyes again, listening to George's gentle snores, when something across the room met her eye.

It was a blue, shining animal. A possum.

Like the one in Padma's letter, she'd written her on her birthday. A fucking possum.

Was it a coincidence?

Cass stared harder at the thing, as it walked up towards her, its nose stuck in the air. When it was only feet away from her, did she realise it was not just a possum, but a patronus. What the hell?

She stood up, pushing herself onto her feet, as the thing began to walk out the front door.

Should she follow it?

Deep down, she knew this likely was some sort of trap, some way to lure her out and kidnap her, but she didn't care. The death of Alastor had numbed her enough to consequence, and her Ravenclaw curiosity had taken over her body.

The possum wanted her to follow it, that was obvious, and she did, with one look back at George.

"I'll be right back." She whispered to him, even though she knew he was asleep and couldn't hear, before following the possum out the front door to the Burrow, softly shutting it behind her.

Cass trailed behind the possum, her heart rate speeding up as the patronus made its way into the tall grass that surrounded the Weasley's home. Her trek only stopped when the animal did, it's little feet stopping yards into the wild grass, in front of a person.

Her eyes flickered upwards from the muddy shoes the person wore, up their thin, emaciated frame, and to their face. Only then, when she made eye contact with the person, did she finally experience fear, as it was a person she thought she'd never see again.

"Professor Quirrell?"