musical mood: beautiful crime - tamer

Cass's breath was heavy, her heart pounding with anticipation, her mind swarming with thoughts. This was it. This was what was likely to be their final confrontation. With their newfound mortality, Cass doubted both of them would survive the night.

Did he know that their Bond had been broken? Had he felt the agony she had, when Mopsus cast that spell? She hoped so, she hoped he knew what she had done, and felt every ounce of suffering.

Barty continued up the stairs, Cass shortly behind him, trailing far enough behind that he wouldn't notice she was there, but enough that she could see where he was going.

Where was he going?

His movements made little sense, Cass thought. Why wasn't he in the battle, killing her friends like she imagined he wanted to be? Why was he going off on his own?

Barty stepped into an empty classroom, glancing around before shutting the door, isolating him from the battle. Was he...afraid? If he knew he was mortal, he knew this battle may very well be his last. Was he afraid of death? Likely so, since he'd committed Blood Magic. No person who is welcoming to death would go to such lengths to avoid it.

With a deep breath, Cass pushed open the door, Theodore's wand gripped in her left hand.

"Expelliarmus!" She cried, the spell aimed directly at Barty, though he managed to dodge it, throwing a silent spell her way.

Cass ducked, recasting her disarming spell, that once again missed him.

The two stared at each other for a moment, silent, the only sound being the noises from the battle below them and their heavy breathing.

"I didn't think you'd come back, sister." Barty eventually broke the silence, his wild brown eyes fixed on hers. "Once I felt the Bond break, I figured you'd run away to some far off country, never to be seen again."

"And miss the opportunity to kill you?"

"Oh, you won't kill me."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I know you, Cassiopeia. I know you better than you know yourself. You don't have the heart to kill, not even someone you hate as much as me."

She shook her head, a laugh of disbelief escaping her lips. "You've made my life a living hell, Barty. You have no idea what I would do to rid the world of you. You and your Death Eater friends will die tonight, and it will be by my hand. I promise you."

A smirk formed on his lips. "Death Eaters? Sister, need I remind you that you bare the Mark as well?"

"One that was forced upon me! One I took to protect those I love. From you."

"Love. Such a pathetic, useless emotion." He shook his head, his wand still aimed at her. "I felt it too, once. It held me back, Cassiopeia. It holds you back."

"You're wrong."

"Am I?" He took a step towards her, and she strengthened her grip on her wand. "My dear sister, what has love actually brought you? You've been left heartbroken on so many occasions, by so many people. If you didn't love so many people, you wouldn't have to mourn them."

"If you didn't kill the people I loved, I wouldn't have to mourn them."

Barty took another step towards her. They were only inches apart now, their eyes locked on each other, daring the other to start a fight. The final fight. It was evident, that the two wouldn't both walk out of this room alive. This was the end, and Cass was going to make sure it was her who survived.

Instead of refuting this, Barty leaned in, pressing his lips close to her ear, and whispering, "You're going to pay, Cassiopeia. For breaking our Bond. I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to make it long, and painful. You're going to suffer, just like our father did. Just like the Longbottom's did."

"Not if I kill you first." Cass responded, and he smirked his typical Barty smirk.

Then, battle ensued.

Cass moved to cast a spell at him, but Barty was too quick, not using his wand but instead throwing his body weight on her, shoving her to the ground and remaining on top of her. Her wand slipped out of her grip, and she felt her knife fall out of her pocket and onto the ground.

Fuck. She had no weapons, nothing to defend herself against Barty.

He no longer held his wand either, it carelessly falling next to him. Whatever he was planning on doing, it was going to be with his bare hands.

Her head smacked against the wooden floor, and for a moment, her vision went black, and when her eyes refocused, Barty had her pinned down, his hands wrapped around her wrists, keeping her from fighting him off.

"Are you ready to die, sister?" Barty's lips were curled up in a sinister smile, and in that moment, Cass realised, she wanted to live.

Her plan had been to kill Barty, then to kill herself. End her life, her misery, her suffering. But as she lay there, moments from death, light flashed before her mind, every happy moment of her life flooding to the surface. Her times with Connor as a child, her first kiss with George, George in general. Her friends. The time on Christmas, when Alastor had given her a headband. The nights with Quirrell, the sunsets, the nature around them, the earth that seemed to breathe just the same as humans did. Life was beautiful, she realised, and she didn't want to leave it. Not yet.

She'd live, she needed to live, like Alastor would've wanted her to. Henry, Ana, Connor, Bethany, Cedric, Bartemius, they'd all want her to live, and she would. She wouldn't die, not yet, not without a fight.

"No." She answered, her voice hardly above a whisper. "I'm not."

"Well, that's just too bad, isn't it?" Barty let go of her wrists, though he gave her little time to attempt to fight him, before his hands were wrapped around her throat, constricting her ability to breathe.

Cass attempted to push him off of her, grabbing his hands and trying to pull them away, but it was no use. He was strong, way stronger than her, he had the high ground, and her strength was fading with every passing second without air.

She wasn't dying fast enough, apparently. Growing impatient, Barty lifted her by her neck, slamming her head down against the ground, hard. He did this over and over again, her vision going black with every slam.

Cass was going to die. It didn't matter how much she fought, in the end, she was going to die.

She wasn't ready.

Then, just as she was about to black out, Barty let go.

His eyes grew wide as the death grip he had on her throat loosened, and without warning, he rolled off of her and onto the ground next to her, moaning in pain.

She frantically gasped for air, allowing it to enter her aching lungs, as her blackened sight cleared up.

Through her distorted vision, Cass could see Quirrell hovering above the two, a bloody knife in hand. Mopsus's knife - her knife.

With her good hand, she attempted to push herself onto her feet, though she fell right back down to the floor when she did, her head spinning, as though she was going to pass out. Between the lack of air and the slamming of her head against the wood, she likely would pass out, in any second now.

"Thank you." She managed to wheeze, her vision returning to the blurry nothingness, and Quirrell gave her a small smile.

He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was he wanted to say, Cass would never know.

Barty, who was still somehow clinging to life, had reached over, and grabbed his wand before either of them could stop him. When he cast the killing curse, it was not aimed at Cass, however, but his former lover, his former everything.

The last thing Cass saw before she blacked out completely was a green beam of light hitting Quirrell in the chest, and him collapsing to the floor in a heap.

*

There was something on Cass's forehead.

She could feel it, as she slowly regained consciousness, the feeling of something pressing against her skin. When her eyes slowly opened, focusing on the person above her, she realised it was a hand - Parvati's hand.

"You're awake." She gave Cass a small smile as their eyes met.

"Yeah, I am." Cass groaned, rubbing her temple with her good hand as she glanced around. She was in the Great Hall, and there were several people lined up next to her - some injured, some awake, and some clearly no longer alive. "What happened? What did I miss?"

"Potter killed You-Know-Who. It's over."

"Really?" Cass breathed a sigh of pure relief. "And...my brother?"

"Dead. He's dead. You're safe now, Cass." Parvati continued rubbing Cass's forehead with her hand, only stopping when she began to push herself up into a sitting position. Only when she was level with Parvati did she notice her eyes were rimmed red.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her chest seizing up.

Parvati's eyes welled up with tears. "Lavender's dead."

"No."

"I...I didn't get to tell her how I felt. It's too late. Cass, it's too late."

"I'm so sorry, Parvati." She reached over, wrapping her friend in a tight hug, squeezing her as Parvati sobbed onto her shoulder, her entire body shaking against her. "God, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Theodore's been arrested." She sniffed, eventually pulling away from Cass's grip. "They said he murdered Henry. Is that true?"

Cass nodded, surprised Theodore had survived the stab wound. Maybe he'd been helped by someone. "Yeah. I saw it."

"Merlin..."

"Who else is dead?" Cass looked around, trying to identify some of the bodies that surrounded her. There were Remus and Tonks, Colin and Bethany, all in a line together....

She spotted Quirrell in the corner, with no one crying over him like there were with every other victim. Cass would, she would cry later, in the privacy of...well, wherever it was she went after this.

Parvati pressed her lips together, like she didn't quite want to say.

"Parvati." Cass urged. "Who else is dead?"

"Fred Weasley."

It was like she'd been stabbed in the chest, just like Barty, just like Theodore. "Oh Merlin, no."

Parvati gulped, nodding slowly. "I saw George go outside, by the lake, a few minutes ago. If you hurry, you can probably catch him before he leaves."

Cass paused. "Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone."

"I'll be fine." Parvati insisted, reaching over and squeezing Cass's hands. "I need to find Padma, anyways. I'll be fine. It's okay. Go find him, yeah?"

*

The sun shone over the Black Lake, the heat a perfect temperature, and the smell of the salty sea overwhelming Cass's senses. It was a perfect day - not the kind of day one would imagine would come directly after a battle. Directly after the deaths of so many.

George stood at the edge of the water, the waves barely grazing his bare feet. Cass wondered where his shoes had gone, as she didn't see them anywhere nearby.

He must've heard her approaching him, as he turned around, the corners of his mouth curving up ever so slightly when he made eye contact with her. "Hey, Cassie."

"Hey George." She stood next to him, staring off into the sea. Her shoes got damp as the water brushed against them, but she didn't mind. "I...I'm sorry. About Fred."

"Is that all you're sorry for?" His voice was tight, like he was trying to keep himself from crying.

Ah. There it was.

"I'm sorry I left, too, and didn't tell you where I was going. It was...impromptu. Quirrell showed up and I just had to leave. I had to break our Bonds."

"You had to?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and she felt herself shrink. Suddenly, she was as small as the grains of sand her shoes rested on top of. "You just had to leave me, again? That's all you've ever done to me, Cassie. Get my hopes up, then leave. And fuck, I needed you. Where were you?"

"I'm sorry." Was all she could muster, because what else was there to say? All she could do was apologize, even if she wasn't sorry. Sorry he was hurt, sorry Fred was dead, but never sorry for what she had to do to gain her freedom.

"Sorry doesn't change anything. Sorry won't bring Fred back. Sorry won't undo what happened with Henry."

"You're jealous of Henry, now? George, he's dead. He was killed, just like Fred, and there's no bringing either of them back. Even if I could bring Henry back, you're the one I want. It's you and me, that's how it's always been!"

"I don't care. I don't bloody care, Cassie. Fuck, I thought that when you came back, everything would be okay, but it isn't. Maybe if you hadn't, Fred would still be here. Maybe you're bad luck. Bad karma. All you've ever done is hurt me. All you've ever done has brought me pain. Drama and pain and I'm fed up with it."

"You're being stupid, George. You're grieving. You don't know what you're saying."

"Don't I?" He arched an eyebrow. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not an idiot."

"And you're not the only one grieving, but you don't see me treating you like it's your fault. I never once blamed you for what happened to my father, or Cedric, or Quirrell, or Ana or or Connor or Henry or Lavender or all the other people I've lost! Get a grip, George!"

He turned to look at her, a hardness in his expression unlike anything she'd ever seen before, not just on George, but on anyone. In that moment, Cass had never felt so...hated, not even by Barty. "Fuck you, Cassiopeia. Fuck you."

She'd never know whose heart was breaking more in that moment, hers, or the boy who had just lost his twin, his other half. But just as Fred had been George's soulmate, his twin flame, he'd been hers. She'd been so foolish to think that, when she returned from her journey with Quirrell, that everything would be okay again. That she could go back to the way things were, but with every life lost in the battle, she knew that would never be the case.

George walked away from her, leaving only his footprints in the sand as a memory of him.

*

Cass was the one to bury Quirrell. No one seemed to know what to do with the strange professor, who had seemingly risen from the dead, only to return to his premature grave as soon as he'd come back to them. While she got inquisitorial looks as she walked into the Great Hall an hour after her conversation with George, and levitated his body outside, no one dared speak to her.

Just like Quirrell, she was a dead girl walking, but unlike him, she hadn't left the earthly realm. Not yet, anyways.

She didn't have the energy to dig a proper grave, though she felt like Quirrell deserved it. Every part of her body ached with the exhaustion of the battle that had ensued, so she opted to use magic to dig a six foot deep grave for him in the dirt, close by where the other bodies were being buried. Bethany and Colin were already in the ground, gravestones marking their spots next to each other, alongside the two surviving Burke sisters lingering in front of them, holding hands and silently weeping.

Dahlia and Cass made eye contact for a brief moment, as Cass watched the mourning pair. She gave her a nod, a nod that meant so much despite being such a small gesture, before returning her attention towards Bethany and Colin, and their eternal resting place. Together, like they were always meant to be.

Cass returned back to the grave she had made. She wasn't strong enough to push Quirrell into it, so she used her wand once again, gently lifting him off the ground and setting him inside the dirt.

Looking down at him, at the peaceful man beneath her, a horrible lump formed in her throat. He was so young, something she hadn't realized until just now. Thirty seven, to be exact. The same age as Barty, the same age that was too young to die. Just as everyone else she'd known throughout her life that had their lives cut short, they were all far too young to die.

Yet, here she stood, alive, by some miracle. It was almost as though the universe was telling her something. Telling her not yet, that, while it had been everyone else's time, she still had something to do on the earth. Unfinished business, or something of the sorts.

She didn't quite know what to make of that, so she pushed the thought aside, just as she began to pile dirt over Quirrell's body, until his face was no longer visible from where she was knelt.

It took about an hour to re-place the dirt up to how it had been before, leaving a little mound where his body rested, and by the time Cass had finished, her entire body ached even more than it had prior, which certainly said something.

She slumped over on the ground, stretching out her body in the grass and gazed up at the afternoon sky, her hands resting on her stomach. She took deep breaths, watching her chest rise and fall with every beat.

Quirrell was dead. Lavender was dead. Bethany was dead. Fred was dead. And George, the one person she thought she'd still have left in her life, hated her. And that was a pain far worse than anything she'd ever felt before.

Cass didn't realize she was crying until she felt hot, wet tears sliding down her cheeks.

She choked back a sob threatening to break through her. Crying wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't bring back the dead. It wouldn't bring back George.

"Cassiopeia."

Cass sat upright, eyes wandering around towards the source of the noise. At first, when she spotted a red haired boy making their way towards her, her heart leapt, thinking it was George, but as they grew closer, she realized it was Percy Weasley.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he approached her. His hair was perhaps the messiest she'd ever seen it, and his glasses had a massive crack etched in the left lens like a spiderweb.

"Am I alright?" She frowned, shifting her position so she was resting on her elbows. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"You're crying."

"People died. My friends died. Of course I'm crying. Why aren't you crying?"

"If I start crying, I don't think I'll be able to stop." He pressed his lips together, eyes flickering towards the empty spot next to her, just inches from the mound that concealed Quirrell's corpse. "May I?"

"Go ahead." Cass gave him a sharp nod, and he swiftly sat down next to her. "I'm sorry about Fred. Really, I am."

"Yeah, me too." Percy's brown eyes met hers, brown eyes both so similar to George's, yet at the same time, so different. The brothers couldn't have been more opposite to each other, that was for certain, despite sharing a similar appearance. "I'm glad you're alive, though. Most people thought you were dead. Swear you got hit by a killing curse, in the battle at Hogwarts last year."

Cass simply shrugged, not wanting to delve into the details of Blood Magic, and the horrors it had brought upon her life. "Is there something you want, Percy?"

He flinched at her harsh tone, and guilt panged at her. "Sorry. I can go. I just...I saw you, and realized you might be the only one who understands."

"Understands?"

"How I feel. How it is. Losing someone you care about, right in front of you. Blaming yourself, how you could've done this or that to stop it from happening. Wanting it to have been you instead."

Of all the people in the world, she'd never quite thought that it would be Percy Weasley that she'd relate to the most, but in that moment, she felt the strange urge to reach out and hug him tight. "I most certainly understand that. Quirrell, he died saving me. He shouldn't have had to die."

Percy glanced down at the mound, careful not to touch it as he shifted his position in the grass. While it was evident he wanted to question her on what the hell had happened with Quirrell - a presumed dead man - he didn't, which she was grateful for.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Yeah, me too."

The two sat in silence for a long moment, simply absorbing the life around them, the birds and the insects and the earth that seemed to breathe on its own, like it had a heart and a mind and veins and bled red just like them.

"What are you going to do, then?" Percy eventually broke the blissful quiet, turning to look at her.

Cass arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Like, after this. Where are you going to go?"

"I...." She began, looking down at the ground as she thought this through. "I don't know." She eventually admitted. "I don't think I have anywhere to go. George all but said he hates me. Almost all of my friends are dead. I mean, I suppose I could stay with the Patil's, or the Johnson's, or the Lovegood's, but I don't want to be a bother to them."

"I know the feeling."

"Are you not going back to the Burrow?"

He shook his head. "I'm not wanted there. George told me as much. Told me it was my fault Fred was dead. And the way mum looks at me...Merlin, I feel sick just thinking about it. I can't go back to the Burrow. I have no friends. At least you have a few."

"I suppose I could return to Stromness." Cass shrugged, as though she hadn't heard him. "I reckon my old house is still vacant. No one in their right mind would want to live there."

"Do you?"

"No. But I don't have any other option." She pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath through her nose, and out through her mouth, counting to four like she'd learned in St. Mungo's. "You're welcome to join me, though. If you'd like a place to stay, for a while. My doors are wide open."

Percy's eyes grew wide. "Are you sure?"

She gave him a sad smile. "Yeah. I don't see why not."