musical mood: hayloft ii - mother mother

The next few months were stuck trekking through the mountains, at such a slow pace it was almost as though they were going backwards. The thick blankets of snow that seemed to never stop expanding made it so even walking a few miles a day was nearly impossible.

Cass and Quirrell had become accustom to sharing a sleeping bag as the cold grew worse, surviving through the freezing temperatures of the night with each other's body heat. The implied intimacy of it was not lost on Cass, sleeping on the chest of a significantly older man, arms wrapped around each other like a couples might be, but there was nothing strange, nothing romantic about it. It was a means of survival, a way to get through the never ending winter. If anything, it was like...well, like sleeping in the arms of an older brother.

It was around April, when the snow finally began to clear and they descended the worst of the mountains. The months had stretched by without anything of interesting happening. Cass figured, spending so much time alone, isolated with just one other person might drive her a bit mad, but no bad blood ever formed between the two. They didn't argue, they didn't talk much at all, really, outside of what was needed to be said. Talking took energy, energy they desperately needed to preserve during the endless cold.

It felt like a miracle, when they finally reached Albania. It was like a massive weight had been lifted off their shoulders, like the months they'd spent slaving away finally were adding up to something. Like it was worth it.

"We still need to find Mopsus." Quirrell reminded her as they made their way through a small village at the end of the forest. Merlin, how she'd missed people, missed seeing life. She'd been so isolated over the winter, just her and Quirrell and the cold, she'd nearly lost her mind.

"Of course." She smiled at him, the spring air hitting her skin and melting into her bones. Nothing could bring her mood down. Nothing at all. They were so close, she was so close to killing her brother, to ending everything wrong with her life, she could taste freedom on the tip of her tongue. "We find Mopsus. Er...how do we find him, exactly?"

"I know a woman, in Vjose, named Ambra. She'll be able to help us."

"Ambra. Pretty name."

The next few weeks were spent in a state of pure anticipation, Cass practically skipping down the streets of Albania as they made their way south. She could barely feel the aches in her feet, paying no mind to the multitude of blisters that had formed over their several month journey, as her entire attention was focused solely on what was to come. Freedom.

Eventually, on a late afternoon in the early days of May, they approached a bar on the outskirts of a village called Vjose. The sun shone down on them, casting orange hues on their skin as they pushed open the door. The bar was generally empty, with only a few drunk men inside watching a sports game on the telly, but it was the only woman inside that was of interest to them.

"Ambra." Quirrell approached her at the bar, as she handed a large man a glass of yellow beer.

"Quirinus, as I live and breathe." Ambra turned around to face them, a bright smile on her lips. She was beautiful, there was no other way to describe her, with one brown eye, and one blue. She had hair even more of a fierce shade of red than the Weasley's, and a sparkle in her eye that was reminiscent of George. Her accent was thick, her English just barely understandable. "What brings you back to Vjose so soon? And who is your friend?" Her blue eye pivoted towards Cass, while her brown remained fixed on Quirrell.

"I'm sorry to be rude, Ambra, but we're in a hurry. We need to find Mopsus, as soon as possible."

Her ginger eyebrows jumped up. "You seek the Speaker of the Dead so soon?"

"Yes, we do."

Ambra took a deep breath, considering. "I'll take you to him. But you owe me, understood?"

*

In front of Cass, stood the biggest, grandest home she'd ever seen. The stained glass windows bore images like that of medieval saints, and the beige brick shone against the evening sun. With pearly, castle-like pillars, and green vines running down the sides of the massive estate, the home made the Malfoy manor look like a shed.

"You'll find the Speaker of the Dead inside." Ambra said with a smile.

"Thank you, Ambra, really." Quirrell stared at her like she'd just saved his life - which, she sort of did, Cass reckoned. Bringing them to Mopsus was the final step in what was a long, gruelling journey to freedom, for both of them. Not just to her. He was Bound to You-Know-Who, which was significantly worse than being Bound to Barty, she imagined.

Ambra simply nodded, staying behind as the two walked down the driveway, and up to the front door.

"Do we knock, or...?" Cass began, but before either her or Quirrell could say anything, the door swung open, to reveal a man, who appeared to be as old as time itself.

"Mopsus." Cass breathed as she met his bright blue eyes.

He nodded. "Cassiopeia, Quirinus. I have been expecting you. Come in."

They followed him inside, trailing behind him as he led the two into a ridiculously large parlour, about the size that the entire Crouch house had been.

"Sit. Please." Mopsus motioned at the couch in front of them, as he sat down on a chair of his own, his ancient joints cracking as his body lowered. "I trust I know why you two are here. You wish to breaks your Bonds. I'm sorry to say, that I cannot help you."

Cass's posture straightened from where she sat on the couch, as she heard Quirrell inhale sharply from next to her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I cannot help you." He repeated, his voice an eerie calm. Mopsus wore an odd sort of smile, one that Cass couldn't quite interpret. Not that she wanted to, not that she cared.

"You're a fucking liar." Cass spat.

Quirrell jolted up, staring at her. "Cass-"

"No, don't say a word." She pushed herself onto her feet, running a hand through her messy half blonde, half brown hair, that hadn't received a proper wash in months. "Listen here, Mopsus, you little shit, we have walked here from fucking England. Do you know how long it takes to walk from England to Albania? Nine fucking months! Do you know the shit we've been through? We've survived exploding trains, wild animals, winters in the bloody Alps! We've been through hell and back all to find this oh so great Mopsus, and you're not about to bloody tell me you can't help us! Understood? We didn't do all that for nothing!"

To her surprise, Mopsus didn't yell, didn't react at all, actually. Instead, his lips curled up in a funny sort of grin. "Who do you think you are, coming into my home and speaking to me in such a way?"

She stared at him incredulously, the heat on her cheeks growing with every passing second. "I'm Cassiopeia fucking Crouch, who the fuck are you? Just some washed up old author who gets off on immortality, that's all!"

"Cass-" Quirrell said once again, but she held up a hand to cut him off, continuing her tangent.

"I did not live on a diet of fucking fish and bathe in river water for nine months to be told you can't help us! Find. A. Way."

Mopsus did not seem startled by her raised voice, and by the end of her tirade, he burst out laughing, a strange, odd cackle. "Now that was the reaction I wanted."

"...what?" She blinked.

"You truly believed that I, the Speaker of the Dead, would be unable to help you? Please. There is little to nothing I cannot do."

"So, you can help us?" Quirrell frowned.

"I can." Mopsus nodded, a wry smirk on his lips. "I just wanted proof that you were worthy of my help. That you truly wanted it. Cassiopeia, thank you."

She gulped, taking a deep breath as she attempted to suppress her rage. "How do we break our Bonds, then?"

"It's as simple as a spell."

"A spell?" Cass frowned. It sounded horribly simple, as Mopsus had said. Basic. Unreliable.

He nodded once more. "Yes, a spell only I know of, because I created it. I couldn't have put it in my book, lest the people I'm Bound to decide to use it against me."

"Who are you Bound to?" She raised her eyebrows, and he shook his head.

"I'm afraid I cannot say, dear Cassiopeia."

Cass shrugged, feeling oddly apathetic. "Right, sorry. I should've supposed as much."

"Never apologise for curiosity, Cassiopeia."

"Right..." She frowned. "Anyways, can you like, break our Bonds now, or...?"

"Of course." Mopsus gave her a smile. "I cannot simply help you without payment, though."

"How much do you want? All my money is back in England, but I can get it to you as soon as possible, if that's alright."

"Oh, you silly child. I haven't delt with things as simple as money in centuries. What I require from you and Quirinus is a debt. You will owe me a favour, when the time comes."

"I'll do anything you ask of me." Cass said, not sure if she should agree to it. Owing people things, being in one's debt, that could go so wrong...

She shook those thoughts out of her mind. It didn't matter, what she had to do to make it up to Mopsus. She'd do whatever it took, to break her Binds. No matter the price, no matter the cost. Anything.

"And you, Quirinus?" Mopsus turned to Quirrell, who nodded, not saying a word, though he didn't have to. His face said it all. "Wonderful."

Mopsus took out his wand, aiming it first at Quirrell. He began whispering a spell, so quiet neither of them could hear the words. Cass assumed this was intentional, so no one could know the spell that Bound Mopsus to the lives of so many, that kept him alive for so many years.

Quirrell's face was scrunched together, his eyes closed as sweat began to bead on his skin. His breath grew heavy, and after several moments, he collapsed from the couch and onto the floor in a dead faint.

"Quirrell?!" Cass cried, jumping off of where she was sat and falling to the ground next to him. She whipped up to face Mopsus, as panic rose in her chest. Not again. Not again. Not again. "What's happening?"

"He's in transition." Mopsus said, as if that explained everything. "He'll be fine in a moment. Don't worry, Cassiopeia."

She let out a sigh of relief. He was okay. Her friend was okay. Everything was okay.

Before she could rise back to her feet, Mopsus's wand was now turned on her, the wooden tip only inches from her face.

Then, the moment he cast the spell, pain like Cass had never experienced before flooded her body. Pure, agonising pain consumed her entirely, every inch of skin burning, all her bones shattering, her organs melting. She couldn't scream, the pain was so unbearable she couldn't so much as move, her mouth remained forced shut. Nothing, nothing could compare to this sensation, nothing ever would, and for the first time since she'd set off with Quirrell nine months ago, she regretted it, she regretted everything. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, all she could do was sit there and absorb the pain that took over her.

Blackness dotted her vision as the agony grew more intense, a blackness that grew and grew as she slowly lost consciousness. It was a blessing, the fading in her mental cognition, as she couldn't process the pain anymore.

The last thing she felt was her arms giving way, and her head slamming against the floor of Mopsus's home.

*

"Cass! Cass, wake up, fuck, please wake up!" Cass felt strong hands on her, shaking her out of what had been a blissful sleep.

Her eyes slowly opened, revealing Quirrell only inches from her face, his blurred expression corrupt with panic. Mopsus was nowhere to be seen, his lack of presence arising concern in Cass.

"What...what's going on? Is it over? Are the Bonds broken?"

He nodded. "Yes, they're broken. We're free. But Cass, I had a vision. Something is happening at Hogwarts. There's a battle. You-Know-Who is there. So are students - your friends, I assume."

"No." She breathed, shaking her head as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "No, fuck, no, that can't be true."

"I Saw it, Cass." He insisted, grabbing her hands. She winced at the harsh contact on her bad hand, her body still more sensitive than it should've been from what had been the worst torture of her life.

"Then we need to go. Now." She began to push herself onto her feet, stumbling as she did and nearly losing her footing.

Quirrell shook his head. "We can't. You don't have a wand."

"Here."

She whipped around, to find herself face to face with Mopsus, who's arm was extended. In his wrinkly hand, he held a small blade, no larger than a kitchen knife, adorned with red jewels.

"Take this." He pressed the hilt of the knife into her hand, taking her fingers and wrapping them around the handle for her. "You won't need a wand, as long as you have this. It will protect you. Trust me, Cassiopeia."

"Thank you." She gave him a small smile, that he mirrored. "For everything. For saving us."

"Of course."

Cass then turned to Quirrell. "If we apparate, and they trace us, it won't matter. Our Bonds are broken, our mission is done. We can apparate into Hogsmeade, and run to the castle. I know a passageway, through Honeydukes, that'll lead right into Hogwarts."

"The guards are down, Cass. We can apparate directly into the castle." Quirrell reached out his hand, grabbing hers, and in an instant, the world around them had dissolved.

*

A killing curse nearly hit Cass in the face, the moment they apparated inside the castle, in the middle of the Great Hall. She ducked, the green light speeding behind her and hitting an unknown Death Eater instead.

She clenched the knife she held tight in her grasp, turning to face Quirrell, who was already duelling a masked man. With a silent spell, the Death Eater went flying across the room, and Quirrell met her eye. "Stay by me, Cass. You don't have a wand, I need to protect you. You're my little sister, you can't get hurt."

Battle raged around them, as Cass scanned the area, students, professors, death eaters, all throwing spells at each other. Some she recognised, some she didn't, all fighting each other. Killing each other.

Another curse, one she didn't recognise, shot past her, just barely grazing her skin. As she followed the direction of the spell, someone caught her eye, at the back of the Great Hall, standing in the doorway to the hallway. His back was towards her, as they fought off who appeared to be Hannah Abbott, but it was without a doubt Theodore Nott.

The man who had killed Ana, and Henry. The man who had left Cass a widow at seventeen.

She knew what she had to do. There was no other option. Quirrell would have to accept her choice.

Henry would be avenged. Ana would be avenged.

Knife in hand, she raced through the Great Hall, dodging spells left and right, some aimed at her, some she just happened to get in the middle of. By some miracle, none hit her. Perhaps the weight she'd lost, and the agility she'd gained on her journey paid off after all.

When Cass reached Theodore, Hannah Abbott was on the ground in front of Theodore. Not dead, thank God, but unconscious, her chest rising and falling with every shallow breath she took.

Theodore must've heard her behind him, because he turned around to face her, his wand in hand and his deep brown eyes wide as they met hers. "Cass-?"

She cut him off by thrusting the knife into his stomach.

It came back coated in blood, as he let out a strangled cry, his wand falling out of his grasp and onto the floor with a clang. He followed in suit, collapsing first to his knees, and hunched over, holding himself up with one hand as he cradled his wound with the other.

"That's for Henry. And for Ana." She spat, before kicking him in the face, sending him flying backwards, blood spurting out of his nose.

Cass reached down, grabbing his wand and feeling it with her hand. It felt wrong, odd, in her grasp, but she supposed it was better than nothing. At least she had something to defend herself with.

"Cass, please-" He cried, his voice breaking as he clenched his stomach, blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers.

He would die, if no one came to save him. She knew anatomy, she knew where she'd stabbed him. It would likely be lethal, and she suddenly felt a jolt of guilt. This was her friend, someone she'd known since she was eleven years old. Someone she'd went to the Yule Ball with, someone she'd laughed with and cried with and experienced teenagerhood with. And she'd likely just killed him.

But he'd killed Henry. He'd killed Ana. He'd likely kill more, if given the opportunity.

With a deep breath and a last look at Theodore, Cass turned around and sprinted away.

Though she didn't get far, as she heard a voice cry out her name.

"Cass!?"

"Parvati!" She whipped around to face her friend, who was standing over the unconscious body of a Death Eater. She had a large gash over her cheek, crimson blood dripping down her dark skin, but other than that, she appeared okay. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She insisted, her voice fast as she glanced around the battle. "Have you seen Lavender?"

"Lavender? No, I haven't, I just got here."

"If you see her, tell her I need to talk to her. I want to tell her how I feel, before we all die."

"Of course." Cass gave Parvati a quick squeeze on the shoulder, though she was cut off by a spell shooting directly at the two.

"Protego!" Cass cried, blocking the spell only inches before it hit them. "Stay safe, yeah?"

Parvati nodded. "You too, Cass. It's good to see you again."

Then, the black haired girl sprinted away into the hallway, leaving Cass alone once again.

Not for long though - she had to fight. For Henry, for Ana, for Connor, for Alastor, for Cedric, for Bartemius, she would fight until the very end.

Wand in hand, she tucked her knife into her pocket, and began racing down the halls, in search of any Death Eater she could take down. Battle surrounded every corner of her, her friends battling her enemies until their dying breaths. There was no sign of Lavender, though, no matter how hard she looked. No sign of anyone she was close to, actually.

Except, as she turned the corner, she spotted Bethany and Colin, duelling two Death Eaters side by side. As Cass looked harder, she realised who they were - Cuthred and Cynric Burke - Bethany's father and uncle.

Colin was faltering, being just sixteen, he was no match for Cynric Burke, a fully trained Death Eater. But he fought bravely, and as hard as he could, and when a green spell came out of Cynric's wand, he didn't hesitate, he didn't run away, as he took the spell head on.

"COLIN!" Bethany screamed as Colin fell to the ground, his eyes open. They'd be open forever, because Colin Creevey was dead. The boy Bethany loved more than anyone was dead, in front of her, and it was this that caused Bethany to make a fatal error.

She lowered her wand ever so slightly, as her chin jerked over to face her dead boyfriend. The agony she was feeling was clear as day, her pale face melting with every passing second.

Cynric was smirking, his job done, before he ran off into the battle, but Cuthred was not done with his daughter. As Bethany moved over to Colin, he raised his wand, and before Cass could do anything to stop him, the killing curse escaped his lips and hit Bethany Burke square in the chest with enough power to send her flying across the hallway. She was dead before she hit the floor.

It was Cass's turn to scream, a horrible cry escaping her lips. Bethany had been so many things to her in life, a nuisance, an enemy, a friend, someone she'd grown to care for just as much as she did her other friends.

Bethany, who had been killed at the hands of her own father.

Cass raised her wand, to do what, she had no idea, but to somehow avenge her friend, to take down the father who had murdered her. But she was too slow.

Someone behind her screamed out the killing curse, and it missed Cass by mere inches, instead hitting Cuthred Burke in the back, sending him flying into the wall.

She turned around, to find Dahlia standing there, wand in hand as she breathed heavily. When her brown eyes met Cass, she simply raised her eyebrows, seemingly not at all phased that she had just killed her father, who had just killed her sister. "You're alive?"

Cass nodded, unsure what to say.

The corners of Dahlia's lips curled up in a weird sort of smile. She was holding back tears, but instead of crying, she simply said, "Glad to hear it."

Cass opened her mouth to speak, to profess her sorrow for the death of Dahlia's little sister, but before she could, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

It was her brother, running up the staircase.

She didn't hesitate before rushing to follow him.