The flames spit them - coughing, bloodied.

Cassie hit the floor with a stumble, shoulder cracking into the side of the couch as Sirius landed harder behind her, coughing violently, knocking over a lamp with a crash. The drawing room spun. The fire behind them flickered out

Her vision darkened at the edges. She tried to sit up, her breath catching in her throat as she winced. The pain that ripped through her back wasn't just sharp — it was wrong. Hot and spreading. She gasped, dragging herself up against the couch, hand pressed to her side. Her legs felt boneless. Her back was on fire. Her wand was still clenched tight in her palm. She didn't even remember gripping it that hard.

Sirius was the first to speak. "The fuck were you thinking?" He wasn't even looking at her yet. Just pacing. Furious. Gripping his hair 

Cassie blinked, vision swimming. She'd saved his fucking life. Dragged him out of a killing curse. Bled herself half to death holding off Death Eaters. And this was how he greeted her?  Cassie tried to speak, but her mouth felt thick. Her tongue felt wrong. "I—" she rasped, the sound barely audible

Sirius didn't stop. "You think you can just—just what, Cassiopeia? Hero your way in like some—some bloody martyr and expect what, applause? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

 "I did save your ungrateful ass," she managed  Voice hoarse. She shifted upright, barely, but a spike of pain lanced through her spine and she buckled again, her hand slipping in the pool beneath her. "You're welcome."

"I didn't ask you to save me!" 

"You're fucking welcome," she snarled, a little louder now, forcing herself to sit up straighter — only to sag back as black spots danced across her vision. She was losing blood faster than she could track. "I could've left you. I could've let her do the job.  One second later and you'd be nothing but a name carved into a tombstone."

"YOU DON'T GET TO SAY THAT!" he shoutedg so loud her skull ached. , spinning on her, finally facing her fully. "You think this makes you a hero? You think dragging me out of a fight makes you righteous?"

"You were going to die!" Cassie shot back, every word costing her breath. Her hand pressed tighter to her wound, slick and warm. "Bellatrix had her wand on you! I saw it!"

"I DON'T CARE!"

His voice cracked. Her entire body jolted at the sound. 

"I would've rather died there, in that fight, than crawl back here like a fucking coward!"

Cassie blinked, struggling to keep her vision steady. Her hand was trembling where it clutched her side. "What the fuck is your problem?" she said 

"You dragged me away like a child," Sirius spat, red-eyed and breathless. "You always have to be in control, don't you? The one who saves people. Is that how you make up for everything? For who you are?"

Cassie laughed — harsh, bitter, broken. "I'll tell you what your fucking problem is, Sirius." She pushed herself up, using the couch as support. Her limbs felt like water. Her body was screaming. Her voice cracked with the effort. "You're not angry I pulled you out of the fight. You're angry I pulled you. That it was me. Not Harry. Not someone you actually give a shit about."

He looked away.

That was enough.

Cassie's chest heaved, "What does he have, Sirius?" she asked, her voice barely audible now. "What the fuck does he have that I don't? What is it about him that makes you try? That makes you fight?"

"I wanted him"

She blinked. Her body felt far away. "What?"

"I wanted him," Sirius repeated louder. "As a second chance. As someone I didn't fail. As someone who didn't come out cursed. I wanted him to be the one."

"And I'm what?" Cassie hissed. "A reminder? An accident you couldn't fix?"

He didn't answer. He turned his back again.

She snarled. "No—fuck that, you don't get to turn away—look at me, look at me!" She staggered after him. Her boots slid in her own blood. She bit her lip. She forced herself to her feet, swaying like a broken pillar.

"If you didn't want me so bad..." Her voice was just crack now. "Why didn't you kill me the night I was born?"

He was silent.

"I should have," he muttered like he quite didn't believe what he was saying himself.

Cassie's mouth parted.

No breath came out.

No scream.

Only silence.

And then a sound — not from her — a thud.

Sirius turned.

And there she was.

Collapsed on the floor.

Blood streaking the floorboards beneath her. Her hair fanned across her face, lips pale, eyes unfocused and half-lidded, still fixed on him like she couldn't believe what he'd said. Or maybe she believed it too much.

"Cassiopeia?" he said, like it was a joke. Like this was part of one of their arguments. "Cassie, what the—"

He moved without thinking. Dropped to his knees beside her, hands fluttering above her shoulder, her throat, not touching—too scared to find what he thought might be true.

"Cassie?"

Nothing.

The blood was soaking into the floorboards now, dark and spreading and warm.

Sirius's stomach twisted. He cupped the back of her head, fingers tangling in her blood-matted hair. Her skin was cold. Not gone—but on the edge. That edge Cassie had pulled him from just minutes ago.

And he'd told her to die.

His voice cracked as it left him. "Fuck. Fuck. Why didn't you say anything?"

Her eyelids flickered.

Sirius's breath caught. His grip tightened. "Come on. Come on—wake up, fight me again, hex me, call me a coward—anything but this—" He shook his head. "You got your wish, right? You saved me-

And then, so faint he almost didn't hear it—

"Looks like you get your wish."

Her lips had moved.

Grey eyes fluttered once, then shut.

"No—no, no, no—" Sirius lurched forward, shaking her shoulders, panicked now, voice rising. "Don't you dare—Cassiopeia, don't you dare—"

But her head lolled sideways.

Unmoving.

His stomach dropped clean out of him. His lungs caved in. He couldn't even think—there was just blood and silence and her not moving.

"Fuck," he whispered again. Then louder. "Kreacher!"

A loud Crack  echoed through the room as the elf appeared, eyes widening in horror at the sight of his bleeding mistress. "Mistress Black—no—no no no—" Kreacher shrieked, scrambling toward her on all fours. "My mistress, my mistress, what have you done—"

"Kreacher—"Take her to St. Mungo's," Sirius said, the words coming out too fast, too shaky. "Now. Right fucking now. Do you hear me? And come back after. Just—go!"

Kreacher, still sobbing, threw himself at her side, grabbed her hand in both of his, and vanished with a sickening crack.

And just like that, Sirius was alone in the wreckage. Knees wet with her blood,, hands trembling. He looked down. Her blood was on his palms. Under his nails. Across his jaw. It was drying already.

He buried his face in his hands.

"How the fuck am I supposed to face Reg now."

He didn't realize he'd said it out loud. The words tasted like rust in his mouth.

Silence. Footsteps. A crack.

Kreacher reappeared, eyes huge and wet. His little frame was shaking like a leaf.

"Well?" Sirius barked, standing so fast the chair behind him crashed over.

"Mistress is alive," Kreacher said, voice hollow. "Healers took Mistress. Mistress Black is alive."

Sirius didn't breathe. Didn't blink. Just closed his eyes.

"Good," he whispered.

A beat passed. Two. Then he opened his eyes again, "Take me to Regulus."

Kreacher froze mid-sob. Shook his head so hard his ears flapped.

"Kreacher can't—he can't—"

"It's an order," Sirius said.

But Kreacher only whimpered louder, shoulders shaking. "Master mustn't—Master can't—"

Sirius's voice cracked. "Please. For Cassiopeia."

Something in Kreacher's eyes stilled behind his sobs. And for once, the ancient elf didn't argue. He only reached up—slowly—hands trembling—and wrapped his fingers around Sirius's wrist.

crack

**********************************************************

The first thing Sirius registered was the quiet.

Not Grimmauld's cursed silence—but something strranger. Like a house that had never known shouting. Or mothers who spat bloodline like venom.

He stood in the unfamiliar hallway, boots leaving a trail of blood across polished floors.

Family portraits lined the walls—but not the ones from the Black family tree. These weren't moving, sneering . They were photos.

Photos of Regulus and Cassiopeia.

 In one, she was curled on a couch asleep. In another, she was sitting at a kitchen table with a steaming mug. In a third, she was being force-fed soup by Regulus who was laughing. One where her nose was scrunched,  One of Reg reading to her on the floor, books spread open . Another where they were both in aprons, covered in flour, middle fingers up at the camera.

It hit Sirius like a kick to the stomach. Like he'd just walked into a version of their family that never existed.

"Kreacher?" Regulus's voice drifted from somewhere—farther in. The kitchen.

"Kreacher? Is that you? I need you to make the cookies, the ones star likes—chocolate chip with the little sea salt on top—"

Regulus's voice cut off mid-sentence. .He stepped out from the kitchen, hand still raised to gesture at something, maybe at nothing .He had flour on his hands. A bit of caramel smeared at his temple. Rolled-up sleeves. And a lightness to him Sirius didn't recognize. Didn't know he could have - but the moment he saw Sirius, hand dropped to his side.

Regulus didn't say anything. Not at first.

His gaze dragged down—

To the blood on Sirius's hands all over his robes

To Kreacher, standing just behind him, shoulders shaking and wailing silently into his own hands.

"Fuck," Regulus breathed.

His body moved before his mind caught up.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His voice was sharp. "You can't come here, you can't show up—what the fuck happened—"

Sirius opened his mouth, but the words caught. Stuck. Died somewhere in his throat. "I—I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Regulus barked a bitter laugh, stepping closer. "You're sorry? For what, exactly?" His hands were shaking . "Why the fuck are you covered in blood? Why is he—Kreacher, why the fuck are you crying?"

"Mistress," Kreacher croaked.

The word shattered the room

Regulus went still.

He didn't blink. Didn't breathe.

"What?"

Kreacher fell to his knees. "Mistress Black—she—she is at St. Mungo's, master—she is hurt—"

"No," Regulus said, voice suddenly hollow. "No—no no no no—"

Sirius didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Because he couldn't. The shame was all over him. Her Blood. His own daughters. 

Regulus's head snapped toward him. The light was gone from his eyes. Only rage and fear remained.

"What happened to Star?" he snarled, storming forward.

Sirius flinched.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

Regulus grabbed his collar, yanked him forward.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, SIRIUS?"

Sirius didn't fight it.

Didn't raise a wand.

He just stood there, crushed under the weight of it all. "I didn't protect her -We—the Order—we messed up. Harry was lured to the Ministry. A vision. A trap. She must've gone after them—"

He swallowed. Hard.

"—and I didn't even see her. She was there. Right there. Injured. Bleeding. And she—"

His voice cracked.

"She saved me," he whispered.

The words barely came out.

"She fucking saved me.".

Regulus's hands shook harder. But he didn't let go. "You let her get hurt."

"I did worse," Sirius rasped. "I told her to die."

The room went dead silent.

Regulus's hands dropped.

Sirius stayed standing. Barely.

"You what?" Regulus growled

Sirius could nt look at him.

Couldn't.

"Reg, I—"

"What. Did. You. Say. To. Her?" Regulus's voice didn't rise. It didn't have to. "What did you say that made my daughter collapse- bleeding out?"

Sirius's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"I didn't mean it," he croaked finally, "Regulus—I swear, I didn't. I was angry. I wasn't thinking. I—"

"She came to save your people," Regulus snapped, voice shaking now. "Your war. Your mess. My Star didn't give a shit about the Visions or Potter or any of that Dumbledore bullshit—and she still came."

Sirius stared down at his boots 

"And you," Regulus said "you—thanked her by telling her she should've died?"

 "I am so—"

"Don't," Regulus snarled. "Don't even try."

Sirius opened his mouth again—he didn't even know what he meant to say—but Regulus held up a hand. . And it shut Sirius up better than any cursee ever could.

"She is my daughter," Regulus said

Sirius flinched

"You never wanted her, Sirius. I did. I still do."

Sirius's mouth parted, but nothing came out.

Regulus reached up—angrily—like brushing something off his cheek. But his fingers slowed for just a second too long. He wiped the corner of his eye.

And Sirius saw it.

A tear. Just one.

He didn't say anything. Coward

"I have to get to her," Regulus muttered, already grabbing his cloak, fast, his hands were shaking. "I have to get to her—"

He turned— "Kreacher—"

"No. Wait—" Sirius grabbed his wrist

Regulus jerked it immediately. "Get the fuck off me."

Sirius held up both hands, trying—trying—to calm it. "Reg—wait—don't do this—"

"Don't do what?" Regulus snapped, furious. "Sit here while she bleeds out because you couldn't save her?"

Sirius recoiled.

Regulus kept going.

"Haven't you done enough damage?"

"I—I didn't know—" Sirius tried. "If I'd known—"

"You didn't care to ask. You never asked." 

"We can't move until we hear from Dumbledore!" Sirius barked. "And you—you—you can't go out there! You're supposed to be dead, remember?"

"I don't care!" Regulus shouted, shoving Sirius back with both hands. "That is my daughter in there. That's mine, Sirius. Not yours. Mine. And I will not sit here like some ghost while she—"

"You have to wait," Sirius snapped  "You think Cassiopeia would be glad when she wakes up and finds out you blew your cover? Destroyed the one secret she tried to keep her whole life?"

Regulus froze.

"You don't—"

"Reg," Sirius said, softer. "Please. Wait. Just wait. As soon as I get a signal from Dumbledore... I'll take you to her. Myself. Just—wait."

Regulus stood there. Breathing hard. Chest heaving.

"She's all alone in there..." he whispered.

"The Healers are with her," Sirius said, forcing the words past the guilt in his throat. "She's not alone."

**************************************************

Each Minute was passibg like an hour,

The Black brothers sat in silence.

Regulus sat at the edge of the armchair, his elbows on his knees, hands clenched. He kept flicking his gaze between th clock and the door, as if Cassie might burst through it any second—grinning, skipping in. Maybe she'd tell him all about how she hexed Theodore into the ground again. Maybe she'd roll her eyes and toss her dagger on the table.

But she didn't come.

Not a sound from the corridor. Just the tick of the second hand. One. Two. Three.

Sirius hadn't moved too. He sat slumped, elbows braced on his thighs, hunched over- Blood—her blood—had dried dark over the sleeves of his robes. His hands were stained at the knuckles, deep bloody redd that no amount of scrubbing would erase. 

She'd collapsed in front of him. He hadn't even been looking at her.

His jaw twitched. He hadn't dared to speak. Not to Regulus who o was spiraling.

Regulus's chest was rising too fast. He stood up too quickly, knocking the chair backward. "I told you—waiting here is pointless. She's alone in that bloody hospital and I'm sitting here like—"

"You walk in now," Sirius rasped, not looking up, "you might be the second dead Black child tonight."

Regulus spun on him. "She would want her father."

"And what would her father do?" Sirius snapped, jerking his head up at last. His eyes were hollow. "Except put himself in mortal danger?"

Neither of them moved.

The clock ticked.

And then—
Something fell.

A single red feather drifted from above It glowed faintly , burning at the edges 

It landed on the table. A note curled beneath it, parchment singed.

Regulus lunged= unfolding the message, eyes scanning each word

Battle concluded. No fatalities.
Voldemort revealed.
Multiple Death Eaters captured.
Nymphadora Tonks — moved to St. Mungo's for treatment.

That was it.

No Cassie.
Not a single mention.

Sirius exhaled sharply "I don't think he knows about her."

I told you this was a fucking waste of time." Regulus's snarled turning around

"Wait. Reg—wait. Just—fuck." He turned the parchment over, snatched a quill from the table, and scribbled desperately:

Cassiopeia injured. She came alone. Might be critical.

Meet me at St. Mungo's.

—S.

Kreacher appeared  beside him— His little hand stretched forward. Sirius didn't question it. He just shoved the letter into the elf's palm.

Kreacher vanished.

Regulus didn't speak. He was already moving—grabbing a hood, slinging a scarf over his face, throwing a long black cloak over his shoulders.

Sirius followed. No words. Just a shared, dread.

When they stood side by side again, two ghosts , Regulus extended a hand without looking.

Sirius took it.

And they disappeared.

******************

The moment they Apparated into the emergency ward of St. Mungo's, every head turned.

Healers paused. A Mediwitch froze with a floating stretcher in midair. Two cloaked figures, masked and faceless, bursting into the very crowded hospital . One tall, lean, in a temper. One rigid, coiled, Blood stained. They didn't walk—they stormed.

Regulus was already at the reception desk before Sirius  "Cassiopeia Black," he said, voice urgentd "Where is she?"

The young wizard at the front desk blinked. "Sir, we're not allowed to—"

"Cassiopeia  Black," Regulus repeated, voice low and full of panic /threat. "Where. Is. She?"

Sirius stepped beside him, face shadowed by his hood. "We're family," he growled. "You want me to prove it? Because I can bleed on your damn floor, or you can point me to the girl who nearly died bleeding out"

That did it.

The flustered receptionist fumbled with a quill, scribbled something, waved over a Healer.

She was older—stern, battle-hardened. No-nonsense. Her robes were streaked and singed at the hem. She didn't flinch when she looked at them.

"She's alive," the Healer said, stepping around the desk. "But just barely."

Regulus let out a sound that wasn't quite relief. 

"She was hit with a dark slicing hex—"  the Healer continued, walking fast. The brothers followed. "The curse was unstable. Left a laceration across her back and side that refuses to close. The skin keeps splitting. We've tried every regular counter-curse in the book."

Sirius's throat closed. "So... what are you doing?"

"We stabilized her with a blood-replenishing potion—though I'm starting to think it's only her own sheer willpower keeping her tethered."  The Healer stopped just short of the sealed door and turned to them "She's not conscious," she said, her voice  brisk "She hasn't woken since we stabilized her vitals. The blood loss was.... catastrophic."

Regulus's body went very, very still.

Sirius said nothing.

The Healer didn't sugarcoat it. "We're trying everything." She flipped through the clipboard,  "We've got three specialists in dark-curse reversal working in rotation. The wound keeps rejecting standard healing charms. It spits them back out . Reopens. Reinfects."

Regulus exhaled slowly through his nose. His hand twitched toward his mask, pulling the fabric higher over his cheekbones as if he couldn't risk letting it fall.

"We've administered blood-replenishing potions hourly," the Healer continued. " But the wound... it won't close. "

Regulus finally found his voice. "And?" he rasped. "You're telling us what can't be done. What about what can?"

The Healer hesitated for only a moment.

"I have a colleague arriving in some time—he's developed a potion for dark curses. And he'll be administering phoenix tears directly to the wound ." She inhaled sharply. "That will work."

There was a beat of silence.

Regulus adjusted his mask again "Can I see her?" he asked, quieter now. Almost a child's plea dressed in a soldier's voice.

The Healer studied him for a long moment. 

"Through the glass," she said finally. "For now. I'll allow internal visits in an hour—once I'm assured her vitals are stable. I won't take risks, even for family."

Regulus nodded, stiff and sharp, and stepped forward—closer to the door.

The Healer tapped her wand once.

The glass turned clear ,Regulus stepped forward 

Cassiopeia lay still on the bed

She looked wrong.

Wrong in every way that broke him.

Her body was still. Too still. No tension in her jaw, no habitual curl of her li. Her hair—inky black, wild, usually untamable—was matted to her forehead with sweat and dried blood. Her face was colorless. Her skin was a shade close to wax.

Regulus gripped the edge of the glass.

She'd always looked invincible. Too sharp to hurt. Too alive to fall. 

But now?

She looked small.

There were crimson stains seeping through the bandages wound tight across her stomach and ribs. Her fingers twitched now and then—small, involuntary spasms, like her body was still fighting . Of course she would

She looked nothing like the girl who used to place sirius's pictures all over the house and flinging daggers, barefoot and grinning, daring the creepy portraits to scold her.

Nothing like the girl who'd once shoved him aside in a training session and disarmed him and had cackled, "Old man reflexes, Reggie!"

Regulus rested his forehead gently against the glass. His mask was still in place, but his voice—when it came—was barely there.

"You promised me," he murmured. "You bloody promised me you'll stay out of this, Cass."

"You weren't supposed to -," Regulus whispered, eyes not moving from her figure. "Not you. You're not... you don't die. You set fire to things and walk away. You survive."

His voice cracked a bit "I gave you every trick I had, taught you every escape route, every dirty hex, every lie." A pause. A breath. "All so you dont die"

He tapped the glass, softly. Like she might hear. "I would've taken the curse for you. You know that, don't you? You must know that. I'd take it now. I'd die screaming if it meant you opened your eyes."

Cassie didn't stir.

For the first time in sixteen years, Regulus Black looked like a man who had something to lose.

He stood there, forehead resting against the glass. Staring like if he just watched hard enough, she'd wake up out of spite just to snap at him/

The corridor was mostly quiet—. Just the occasional shuffle of Healers passing by, some pausing to glance at the cloaked, half-visible men standing outside a locked door.

Sirius stood against the wall, arms folded tight, hands buried in his pockets to keep them from shaking. His robes were still stiff with dried blood. He wasn't looking at the door .

He couldn't.

He'd yelled at her. Missed the moment she collapsed. And then sent her here bleeding.

A sudden flurried noise broke the stillness.

The door to the corridor flung open.

Remus Lupin barreled in, wide-eyed, breathless, almost frantic. His robes half-buttoned, hair wild. His gaze darted around until it landed on the figure away from the door. Clearly Sirius.

"Fuck, Pads—what happened? When—did she—how—?"

Sirius opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.

"She saved me," he said finally, hollow. "Bellatrix would've—she turned around and saved me. And Dolohov—he got her before I could—"

He stopped, swallowing hard."Bellatrix had me—cornered. I was too busy being a fucking idiot. And Cass—she just moved. Dragged me into the Floo."

He choked out a bitter laugh. "Got me out, like I was worth saving after all I have done."

Remus stared at him,

"She was bleeding before we even landed in Grimmauld Place."

Remus visibly flinched. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "And then?"

"I yelled at her," Sirius said hollowly. "Screamed at her. Told her she should've let me die. And i told her I should have just killed her."

Remus's lips parted

Sirius shook his head like he could shake off the memory. "I didn't even look at her—she was bleeding out in front of me and I was too angry to notice. She collapsed right after. Didn't say a word until she was already halfway gone. Looked at me and said, 'Looks like you get your wish.'"

A silence 

"I didn't mean it, Remus," Sirius said suddenly, voice pleading, "I swear, I was just—angry in the moment. I would never..."

"I know," Remus said 

He didn't push. Just turned, slowly, to face the  door To the girl behind the glass. And to the figure standing in front of it—tall, still as a statue

And suddenly, Remus went very still.

His voice dropped. "Is that...?"

Sirius nodded once, tightly. "Yeah."

"She's gonna be fine... right?"

"I hope so," Sirius said.
Sirius and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder now, both watching the door like it might disappear if they blinked.

Neither spoke for a moment.

And then Remus exhaled—too loudly—and muttered under his breath:

"...Albus is mad."

Sirius's head jerked up. "At me?"

"No," Remus said immediately, eyes still flicking to the door "Not you."

He didn't need to say her name.

"The hell for?" Sirius snapped. "She saved me. She bought the Order time. She's the reason harry and all even got out. If she hadn't—"

"I know," Remus cut in, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Believe me, I know. But... apparently..." voice dropping lower. "Apparently when they combed through the Department of Mysteries after the battle, they found two bodies. Death Eaters. New recruits"

Sirius's face fell. "Dead?"

"Yea" Remus added  " But... both of them—"

"What?" Sirius asked sharlpy. "What about them?"

That's when Regulus spoke. He had appeared silently behind them, his hood down, scarf lowered just enough  "What does that have to do with her?"

Remus turned slowly, his lips pressing into a grim line.

"Their deaths were..." He hesitated. "Really brutal."

Sirius stared at him. "Define brutal."

"One," Remus said, glancing at the floor, "was stabbed. Through the heart. Clean. Sharp weapon. Probably a dagger."

Regulus said nothing

Remus swallowed. "The other..." He trailed off, visibly unsettled. "The other was... unrecognizable."

A pause.

He lifted his eyes to Sirius, then to Regulus.

"Some kind of morbid curse. Dark. The spine was... split. We're not even sure what spell it was."

Sirius raised a hand, gesturing vaguely. "So?"

Remus raised his eyebrows like are you sure you want me to finish this?

Regulus didn't blink. "Say it."

Remus's throat bobbed.

"Albus thinks - no- he knows It was Cassiopeia," he said finally. "She did it."

Sirius didn't move.

Remus looked between them again. "She didn't just fight, Sirius. She killed. Those two were taken down. One with precision. One with raw rage. Albus is furious. He says it crossed a line."

"A line?" Regulus spat "They were Death Eaters."

"Albus thinks she went too far."

Sirius's jaw locked. "She saved lives."

"I know."

"She saved mine."

"I know."

"She was bleeding out while she dragged me off the floor—"

"I know," Remus snapped "I'm not saying I agree with it," he muttered  "It's not me. This isn't me, Sirius."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "But?"

Remus exhaled hard. "But Dumbledore thinks—he believes—kills should be necessary. Only necessary."

There was a beat.

Then Regulus laughed. "So," he said slowly, dragging each word  "when Death Eaters corner my daughter—try to kill her, actively try to gut her —Dumbledore expects her to what? Give them a speech? Preach about love and unicorns like some stupid Gryffindor poster child?"

Remus looked down.

Didn't answer.

"Is that what he would've preferred?" Regulus continued, stepping closer now. "That she extend a hand—to some half-trained murderer who would've slit her throat if she hesitated? Forgive them? Friendship, maybe? A hug? Do you know how long that curse carved her open before they even got her here?"

Remus's jaw tightened. "Regulus—"

"No," Regulus snarled. "Say it. Say it out loud. Say that my daughter—who nearly died dragging your friend out of the battle—should've died a painful death to preserve his sense of moral superiority."

Remus didn't speak.

Didn't need to.

Because the silence was an answer all its own.

Regulus stepped back, chest rising and falling too quickly, fingers trembling from how hard he was clenching them. He looked between them before turning  back to the dor and whispering "Manipulative bastard."

******************

Sirius didn't say anything for a long moment before turning to Remus"...Other updates?"

Remus turned to him, but before he could speak—

The door at the end of the corridor swung open.

The same Healer from before stood there, She looked at them both, then to the man still standing in front of the door.

"You can go in now," she said gently. "Her vitals are steady. She didn't stir, but the wound's not worsening."

Both brothers stood.

The Healer offered a practiced smile. "Please try not to yell too much. The ward's sealed, but her mind is... likely fragile right now."

Remus nodded once. "We'll be quiet."

No one mentioned that quiet wasn't Cassiopeia's natural state.

The three of them entered together.

The door clicked shut behind them. Regulus moved first—he turned to the side wall, flicked his wand, and muttered something under his breath. The lingering surveillance charms shimmered and cracked.

He crossed the room, checked all corners, cast one more spell at the door.

Room secure.

Only then did he finally reach for his mask.

He peeled it off slowly. Sirius followed suit, pulling down his scarf .

Regulus turned.

And saw her.

Up close.

No window between them. Just her, lying on that bed like she had no business being still.

Cassiopeia Black looked like a ghost . Her face was drawn, lips cracked, skin pale as paper. Her hair had dried in stiff, tangled clumps along her cheeks. The blood at her side had been half-cleaned but still stained the bandages, bleeding through.

But she was alive.

A flicker of breath. A twitch in her hand. Regulus stepped forward until he stood at her side. He didn't touch her.

He just stared.

And he looked wrecked. He reached out once, touched her fore arm—before letting his hand fall gently to the edge of the mattress. "She's colder than she should be," he murmured.

"She lost a lot of blood," Sirius said hoarsely.

Regulus didn't reply he pulled a chair to the edge of the mattress, then abandoned it entirely and climbed onto the bed. He sat gently at her side, cross-legged, careful not to jostle anything. His wand lay across his lap.

He reached out and began brushing back her hair with slow, trembling fingers—untangling blood-matted strands, smoothing the black curls away from her eyes like he could will her awake .

"You're safe now," he murmured. "No one's going to touch you. I'm here."

Cassie didn't stir.

But he kept talking anyway like he was telling her a bedtime story she might someday remember. "I'd trade places with you in a breath, you know that? I'd take the curse. The pain. All of it." He paused, swallowing hard. "But you... you always did have to do everything the hard way."

He smiled faintly, brushing a thumb along her temple. "So bloody dramatic, my star"

In the corner of the room, Sirius leaned against the far wall with his arms crossed, scarf hanging loose now, . Remus stood beside him, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, worry carved in his face.

Remus broke the silence.

"The news has spread," he said quietly. "People know she's been hurt. They're talking"

 "Of course they are."

"I don't think Dumbledore's revealed anything about... the deaths," Remus added.

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, the blood under his fingernails long dried. "Not yet."

Remus looked at Cassiopeia—really looked at her. Her pale skin, the curve of her cheek against the white pillow, Her black hair clinging to her throat like vines.

"She didn't deserve this," Remus said, voice hoarse.

"She didn't," Sirius echoed.

A long silence settled.

Then Remus spoke again "The news will've reached Hogwarts by now. I wouldn't be surprised if Theodore or Malfoy show up soon. Order members too. She's made an impression. Good or bad, she's impossible to ignore."

Sirius snorted faintly at that, no humor in it. "That's her."

Remus hesitated, then dropped a glance toward the bed. "I don't know how safe it is for him to be unmasked," he said carefully.

Regulus didn't respond.

He was still whispering—words barely audible, as if they were meant only for her.

"It's alright," he breathed "I'll burn the world before I let them punish you for surviving."

Remus looked away.

Sirius didn't.

He just watched his brother—mask off, walls down, shattered completely—and wondered what kind of gods were cruel enough to let a father sit beside his daughter and pray like that.

*********************************

night had turned into day without anyone noticing.

The lights in the ward had shifted from candlelight to pale sunlight—and still, Cassiopeia had not moved.

She lay motionless beneath white sheets, the only sound the hiss of enchanted monitors tracking her vitals. Every so often, her hand twitched—

Regulus hadn't left her side.

At some point, he'd drawn the curtains, tuned out the sounds of the hospital, and pulled the chair close enough to rest his hand beside hers on the mattress. 

In the corner, Sirius and Remus sat in silence.

They had been sitting like that for hours.

The room had seen its share of visitors since dawn. As Remus predicted, Order members came—quiet, uncomfortable in a way that only grief made possible. No one had stayed long. No one had dared say anything.

Except Molly who had gasped and covered her mouth "Oh, Cassioepeia dear..."

She stepped to the bedside. she pulled out a small checkered box, and set it on the bedside table—just beside Regulus, who looked startled by the gesture.

"I made this for her," she said "My kids really like it-I know she will too—."

Regulus blinked. Then nodded. "Thank you," he said. "Truly."

Molly squeezed Cassie's wrist once. Gently. And left without another word.

By midmorning, a new healer arrived—She examined Cassie for all of two minutes before nodding briskly and removing a vial of shimmering silver liquid .She administered the potion—drops beneath the tongue, a spell to help it absorb. And phoenix tears on the wound.

"This will bring her back within the hour," she said. "I should hope so "
regulus sighed beneath his mask

And then the door creaked open again.

"Good morning," said the unmistakably calm voice. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything... sentimental."

Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, l wearing soft purple robes and a faint smile. In his hand: a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet.

Sirius looked up. His face did not soften.

Dumbledore's gaze flicked to the bed, then to Regulus—who had turned his body slightly toward his daughter as if shielding her from his view.

"I see she's holding on," Dumbledore said gently. "That's good. Very good."

He stepped further inside and glanced at Sirius "Well, Sirius," he said mildly, "have you read the news this morning? It may be of... interest."

Sirius frowned. "No."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, and extended the newspaper with a slight flourish.

Sirius snatched it and scanned the front page.

SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT

MINISTRY CONFIRMS PETER PETTIGREW IS ALIVE
WITNESS DEATH EATER REVEALS FULL ACCOUNT UNDER VERITASERUM

Sirius read it once. Then again. The color drained from his face 

Dumbledore watched him with a calm. "It's official. You are, at last, a free man."

Sirius didn't speak.

Just sat there, eyes wide, hands shaking slightly as the page crumpled in his grip.

Sixteen years. For this.

Dumbledore smiled as though they were discussing weather "I suspect the public will be rather apologetic now, won't they?"

Neither brother replied.

Dumbledore's eyes shifted to the bed—to Cassiopeia's still figure—and then to Regulus, who stared back coldly.

The temperature in the room dropped.

Dumbledore said nothing. 

Regulus didn't move. Just looked at him with the kind of gaze that said I know what a manipulative snake you are. Say one wrong word and I'll end you where you stand.

Dumbledore broke the stare with a hum. "I've spoken with the Healers. It appears Miss Black will make a full recovery."

He reached into his robes and placed something on the table by the bed—a familiar blue box with gilded corners.

"I brought chocolate frogs," he said "My favorite. She might enjoy them, if she still has a sweet tooth."

Remus accepted it wordlessly.

Dumbledore turned again, almost casually. "You may want to expect Mister Nott shortly. He created quite the uproar when he heard the news. Threatened to burn the castle down if he wasn't allowed to see her."

Regulus blinked once. "That's... not surprising."

Dumbledore gave a fond chuckle, as if it amused him. "Quite the loyal boy. Though I do hope he's learned to channel that fire constructively."

Then, without further comment, he turned and left the room, robes sweeping behind him

Just like that He was gone

The silence he left behind didn't last long.

Because a few moments later, the air shifted—like a storm about to barge in.

The door slammed wide with a bang. Theodore Nott stood in the frame, pale, breathless, eyes wild.

"Where is she," he demanded, before he even saw her. "Where—"

Then he did.

His steps stopped.

Time slowed.

There, under sheets and potions  lay Cassiopeia Black. Still as marble. Skin pale with blood loss, bandages translucent -Wound slightly visible—too much. Too deep.

Theo didn't make a sound.

He just crossed the room in four steps and fell to his knees beside her bed. His hands hovered above hers, fingers twitching. Not touching—he wouldn't dare—not when she looked this breakable.

His mouth opened. Closed. Swallowed.

"Cassie," he said, voice shredded. "Fuck. Cass—"

He stopped himself.

One breath. Two. His jaw clenched.

And then he looked up, dazed, toward the man sitting next to her bed. Regulus. Pale as the sheets. Every movement stiff. His eyes hollow. Like he hadn't slept in days and wasn't planning to start now.

Theo's voice cracked. "What...Regulus ... how did it happen?"

Regulus didn't speak.

Didn't blink.

Didn't look at him.

He just lifted his gaze—slow and cold—across the room, to the far corner where Sirius Black stood. Slumped. Silent. Blood-streaked robes still on his frame, his scarf twisted in his fist

Theo turned.

Followed the look.

And saw him.

His heart snapped.

"You—" he breathed. "You."

And before anyone could stop him, Theo surged to his feet and crossed the room like a storm.n He grabbed Sirius by the front of his robes and slammed him into the wall 

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Sirius staggered. "I—no—wait—"

"What the FUCK did you do to her?" Theo shouted.

"I didnt-

 "She's dying and you're standing there like you're grieving—like you get to grieve?"

"I didn't—" Sirius choked out. "I didn't mean—"

"DON'T," Theo snapped. "Don't you fucking pretend—if she dies—if she dies, I swear to Merlin, I'll rip your fucking throat out."

"SHE SAVED ME!" Sirius shouted suddenly,  "Bellatrix had the curse on me, she pulled me into the Floo—Dolohov hit her. I didn't see—I didn't even know—"

His voice cracked, and that stopped Theo cold.

But it didn't calm him.

"You weren't watching her?" Theo hissed, disbelieving. "You were right there and you didn't see her getting hit- or bleeding out?!"

"I was in shock!"

Theo shoved him again. "She's sixteen!"

Sirius flinched like he'd been slapped.

Remus stepped in. He gripped Theo's shoulder, firm. "Theodore—no. Not now. Not here."

"Get off me," Theo hissed, twisting. "You weren't there. You didn't see her—"

"I've seen her," Remus said. "I've seen what's left. And if you want her to wake up—you need to shut the fuck up and sit down."

That hit.

For one long, awful moment, it looked like he wouldn't. That he'd snap Sirius's neck right there. His chest was heaving

But then—his eyes darted back to the bed.

Back to her.

And his fingers let go all at once.

Like the idea of hurting her—even indirectly—was more terrifying than any rage in him.

He stepped back from Sirius, hands trembling now, like he'd just realized what he was about to do.

He stared at the blood on Sirius's collar,  Then looked at Remus, eyes glassy.

"I can't..." he muttered "I cant lose her". "If I'm the reason anything worse happens—"

"You wont," Remus said firmly.

Theo staggered back to the bed, to her, and dropped to his knees again. He pressed his forehead to the mattress  like he was praying to a god he didn't believe in

Behind him, Regulus watched silently, jaw clenched. But after a beat, he stepped back—quietly, without a word—giving Theo space. Because he understood. He understood all too well what it meant to love something so viciously it made you bleed.

Across the room, Remus murmured something low to Sirius—and Sirius gave the barest of nods, rubbing a hand down his face The two of them moved toward the door quietly,

The door clicked softly behind them

Theo reached for her hand again.

"Cass... please," he whispered  "Please wake up. Or I'll die cass-"

His thumb traced absent patterns over her knuckles.

"I'm not joking," he said. "I mean it. I'll find whoever did this to you and make them hurt. And then I'll find a way to follow you. So either way, we're not done yet."

Still, nothing.

"Do you know what you've done to everyone?"

His voice turned hoarse.

"Draco hasn't eaten in two days. He thinks he drove you away. Pansy's been crying nonstop. And Blaise..." He let out a sharp, wet laugh. "Blaise has frozen. You know what that means for him? The drama queen of the group just went quiet. Dead quiet. It's like he stopped breathing too."

His fingers clutched hers gently but desperate.

"We're falling apart, Cass."

He reached forward and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead

"I'm falling apart."

He inhaled shakily.

"I told Remus I wouldn't make things worse by shouting. That I wouldn't lose it. But you should know, I'm about two seconds away from setting this fucking hospital on fire if they don't fix you."

He dropped his forehead to her hand again, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Just tell me who did it," he said. "Tell me who. I'll rip out their spine with my teeth."

There was silence again.

Theo just buried his face in his hands. His voice cracked like something splintering inside him.
"Merlin, Cass. Please. Please just—"
He didn't finish. Couldn't.

And then—

"Merlin, you are so dramatic," a croaky voice said, dryand soaked in amusement.

Theo's head snapped up.

Cassiopeia Black was awake.

Half-lidded, pale as parchment, but very much alive—and grinning at him like she'd just won a bet with death itself. "Are you crying, Nott?" she rasped, "Because I think that's illegal in at least three countries."

Theo choked on a laugh, something between a sob and a curse. "You absolute menace."

Cassie was already trying to sit up like the madwoman she was. "Help me up, I want to dramatically collapse into someone's arms—preferably yours "

"No." Theo lunged forward and gently pushed her back down with one hand on her shoulder. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Since birth," she murmured, lips twitching.

"You almost died," he hissed, brushing sweaty curls off her forehead, his voice still trembling. "I thought you were—I thought I was going to have to kill whoever did this and then die on top of your bed like some tragic romantic antihero—"

"Bold of you to assume I'd let you steal my spotlight," she muttered.

Theo just exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead to hers. "You're awake. Thank Merlin. I swear, I've never been this close to burning down a building."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."
Cassie coughed—then groaned, "Okay. Ouch. Back. Ow."
********

The moment the croaky voice had rasped out from the bed, Regulus Black was moving.

He didn't walk. He shot forward like he'd been waiting at the edge of the world for that sound to bring him back.

"Cassie," he breathed. "Star—"

But she lifted her head—groggy, sore, blinking hard—and immediately scowled at him.

"What the fuck are you doing without your disguise?!" she rasped, voice drowsy from potions , but somehow still bossy.

Regulus froze mid-step. "That's your first concern?"

"I've been almost dead for a day max," Cassie said, waving vaguely at him. "He's standing in a public hospital looking like a fugitive fairytale prince."

Regulus groaned. "Not now, Cassiopeia—"

"Yes now. Go put your fucking face back on."

"You've been unconscious for two days and that's the first thing you yell at me?" he muttered, but he was already moving, muttering something about "ungrateful children" as he moved toward the mirror. He adjusted his mask and flicked the glamour spell over his face his features changing one by one

Cassie winced watching it, then tilted her head toward Theo. "He's such a drama queen."

Theo didn't laugh.

He was still staring at her. Like he couldn't decide whether to hug her or throttle her.

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked quietly.

Cassie blinked.

"What?"

"We could've gone together," Theo said. "To the Department. You and me. We always go together."

Cassie shifted slightly, guilt flashing behind her eyes. "I didn't think—"

"Exactly," Theo snapped, a little too fast. "You didn't think. You just decided I couldn't handle it. That you needed to go in alone, save everyone, die in glory."

"Oh, don't flatter me—"

"You didn't even say goodbye."

Silence fell.

"Why?" he asked, and his voice wasn't angry—it was still in the way that made it worse. "Because you thought I couldn't handle it?"

"No, I—"

He smiled, a humorless smile. "You didn't trust me."

Cassie huffed a laugh, forced. "Merlin, you sound like I cheated on you."

Theo didn't laugh. He just stared at her

Cassie exhaled slowly, "I wasn't trying to protect me, alright? I was trying to protect you."

"I never asked for that," Theo said quietly.

"Well, I didn't exactly ask to love someone I'd be terrified of losing either," she snapped.

The room went still. Her chest rose and fell. He stared at her like he wanted to both kiss her and strangle her.

And then—he laughed. Low and tired=  like he'd been holding it in all day

Cassie arched a brow. "What?"

"You," Theo muttered, shaking his head. "Always turning tragedy into banter like it's normal"

"Is it working?"

"No," he said. "It never does. But I let you do it anyway."

Cassie gave him a crooked smile "You're still mad at me?."

Theo leaned in, brushed a knuckle along her jaw. "Yes. But I'm still yours."

Another silence.

This one wasnt so bad

Then he cleared his throat, rough, not meeting her eyes. "Was he there?"

Cassie knew who he meant instantly.

She held his gaze. Didn't blink.

"Yeah," she said, her voice still hoarse "The bastard was there."

Theo didn't breathe.

Cassie exhaled, eyes drifting upward toward the ceiling like she could dodge the weight of this conversation. "We had a little chat," she muttered.

She tried to say it lightly.

That got his attention. He turned toward her, slowly. "What kind of chat?"

"The kind where you say things with your mouth," she snorted but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "He didn't seem all that fond of me. Can't imagine why. I am so likeable"

Theo exhaled sharply. "Cass—"

"Hey," she cut in, lifting her hand to cup his cheek gently. "Don't. It wasn't about you."

He looked like he wanted to argue.

Cassie's voice dropped  "He's exactly what you said he was. Cruel. Ugly in the way only cowardly men can be. The kind of man who sees something strong and wants to break it just to feel taller."

Theo's eyes were dark . "What did he say to you?"

Cassie shook her head "Honestly? " a half-laugh falling out with a cough. "Nothing worth remembering."

Theo's jaw clenched. "Cass."

She hesitated " Nothing I haven't heard before. Just nastier. More pathetic." She tried to keep her voice even, to make it sound unimportant. Tried to protect him from the things Thomas Nott had said. From the way his gaze had crawled over her. 

"He was looking for something to hurt," she said simply. "And failed. Miserably" 

Theo stared at her like she was a riddle he hated not being able to solve.

His voice came out low. "Did he—did he hurt you?"

"He tried too- But guess who sent him flying across the chamber." She grinned 

Theo's fists unclenched slightly. "He didnt touch you right-

"No" She said immediately. true. " He just ran his mouth," 

"You shouldn't have had to hear that."

"I've heard worse," she said lightly, "Besides, I was too busy thinking about ripping his throat out to really listen."

Theo let out a sharp breath. "Still, you didn't deserve that," he said.

"And you didn't cause it," she shot back instantly. "Whatever that man said, it's not your fault."

Theo didn't respond. His hand was shaking.

Cassie squeezed it.

"He's not you," she assured. "He never was."

Theo just nodded 

"Still," he murmured after a beat, voice thick, "when I kill him, I want you to know it'll be out of love and revenge. For whatever he said to you mon amour"

Cassie smiled faintly. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Regulus cleared his throat from the side. "Alright, war criminals. That's enough trauma bonding for one day." 

 He had just arrived all glamour reapplied, and Cassie gave him a dry look. "See? So much prettier with the disguise on."

"You're already over your potion allowance," Regulus said sternly, stepping toward the bed. "And if you don't let the sleep draught take hold, your brain's going to melt out your nose."

"Dramatic," she muttered.

"Says the girl who nearly died this week," Regulus said adjusting her pillow.

Theo chuckled. "He's got a point."

Cassie tried to argue, but a yawn broke through before she could form a sentence. Her eyes were already fighting to stay open, the potions dragging her

"Whatever," she mumbled. "Just... don't leave."

"We won't," Theo promised.

Cassie's hand found his one more time, fingertips brushing over his.

And finally, she let the dark take her.

Theo didn't move.

Regulus didn't either.

They stood on opposite sides of her hospital bed

It was Regulus who broke the silence. "I spent sixteen years pretending to be dead," he said, not looking at Theo. "Sixteen years wondering what would happen to her if - I - was gone"

Theo blinked but said nothing.

Regulus's eyes stayed on Cassie. "She is just a girl. My kid. Under all that all powerful heiress bravado of hers" He inhaled sharply through his nose.

"But she always needed someone."

Theo's jaw clenched.

"She's not easy to love," Regulus said simply. "I know that. You do too, don't you?"

Theo didnt answer

"She'll lie to you. Shut you out. Do something brave and bloody and unforgivable because she thinks it's the right thing. She'll make you feel like the only one in the world who matters—then vanish before you can hold onto it."

Theo's throat worked. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I know."

Regulus finally turned to look at him. Their eyes met—mirror-sharp "You love her."

It wasn't a question.

Theo nodded.

"Then understand something: the war's not waiting for her to heal. Voldemort knows her name now. The Order knows what she's capable of. She's standing right in the middle of it all."

Theo's expression didn't change. "I'm not leaving her."

"I know," Regulus said. "But I also know what it does to a man—watching the person you love burn. Pretending it doesn't destroy you."

He swallowed.

"If anything happens to me," he added quietly, "you keep her alive."

Theo stiffened. "Don't talk like that."

Regulus gave a faint shrug. "I don't make vows I can't keep. And I don't pretend to outrun death twice."

Theo didn't blink.

"I'll protect her," he said finally. "No matter what."

Regulus's gaze lingered a moment longer.

And then, without a word, he reached across the bed and rested his hand briefly over Theo's—right where their hands had held Cassie's a moment ago. Then he stood, quietly retreating to the chair in the far corner

Theo stayed where he was—on the floor beside Cassie's bed, her hand still curled loosely in his. He just watched her.

She looked... alive. Still pale, still bruised, still stitched together by magic and mad potio[nwork—but the colour had begun to creep back into her cheeks, soft and stubborn. Her lips weren't as grey. Her lashes fluttered once in sleep.

She looked peaceful.

That's what undid him, really. Cassiopeia Black never looked peaceful. Alive? Yes. On fire? Always. But this? This was different. Like seeing a storm cloud go still.

He didn't remember when his head dropped onto the edge of the bed. Just that her hand stayed in his, and he let it tether him down as he fell asleep, awkwardly hunched beside her, heart still racing 

*********************

The room was too bright.

Theo stirred with a groan, the back of his neck aching from the angle. His hand was still wrapped around hers, numb. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes

He cracked an eye open.

Cassie was awake.. Groggy, bleary-eyed, but awake. And she was very clearly trying to yank the folded Daily Prophet from the bedside table with one hand "The hell are you doing?" he rasped, voice hoarse from sleep and panic.

Cassie didn't look at him. "Waking up. Catching up. Multitasking."

He jolted upright.

"Merlin—can you not move so much?" he croaked, grabbing the newspape before she could pull her shoulder wrong again. "You just died like, twenty-four hours ago."

Cassie blinked at him. "I didn't die, Nott."

"Barely."

She grinned, and her voice was still scratchy when she said, "Didn't want to wake you. You looked adorable sleeping like that. Like a tortured little puppy."

Theo rolled his eyes, handing her the paper. "Shut up."

"Never," she said sweetly  

He rubbed his face. "What time is it?"

"Seven, I think?"

"The fuck? Where did the night go?"

Cassie shrugged. "Into the great abyss where all our sanity lives."

Theo snorted despite himself. "You're insufferable."

"Now that I am" Cassie muttered half distracted, eyes scanning the headlines before going completely still

Sirius Black Innocent: Ministry Confirms Peter Pettigrew Alive"

She stared. Then sat up too quickly, wincing as her body screamed in protest. Her hands gripped the Prophet

She read it once.

Then again.

Her lips moved silently over the words.

" Death Eater confesses... Veritaserum confirms mass cover-up... Pettigrew testimony... Black innocent..."

She stared for a long time.

Regulus entered just as she was folding the paper back up 

"You're awake," he said softly.

She looked at him.

Then, flatly: "When were you going to tell me?"

Regulus paused, then tilted his head. "I was going to let you finish reading first."

Cassie let out a sharp exhale. "He's free."

"He is."

She blinked hard

"This has nothing to do with you anymore, Cass."

She looked up.

"You don't owe him anything. You don't owe any of them anything."

"I know."

"You just need to rest," he said, voice still calm but tighter now. "Forget about all this. Come home. I'll handle the rest."

She opened her mouth to argue.

Regulus didn't let her.

"I mean it, Cassiopeia. You don't have to carry this fucking war on your back. You don't have to keep proving you deserve to be here."

"I'm not trying to prove anything—"

"You are," he cut in. "You always are. And it's killing you."

She clenched her jaw. "I'm not coming back to hide, Dad. I can't. You know that."

"I'm not asking you to hide,  I'm asking you to live. You're not going back to Hogwarts and thats final."

Cassie's brow shot up. "Excuse me?"

"You're not going back." His voice was sharp. "You're coming with me. We'll vanish. Disguises. Safe houses. Portkeys. You'll heal. We'll fight from the shadows."

Cassie had already swung one leg over the bed, ignoring the groan in her ribs. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

Theo, who had been perched at the foot of her bed , raised his eyebrows but didn't intervene yet.

"Dad," Cassie said, voice dangerously calm, "I appreciate your dramatics, really. The whole brooding-in-a-coat thing suits you. But I'm not vanishing. And I'm definitely not hiding."

"You nearly died," Regulus snapped, all quiet fury and barely restrained panic. "You were unconscious for a full day. And you're planning to waltz back into Hogwarts like it's some tea party?"

"Yeah," Cassie said. "That's exactly what I'm planning."

Regulus stared. "Have you completely lost your—?"

"I'm not running," she interrupted. "I'm not going to spend my life looking over my shoulder just because someone managed to land a good hit. I made it out. I'm not wasting that."

"You think I care about wasting it? I care about keeping you alive, Cassiopeia."

"And keeping me alive means what? Shoving me into some cottage in Albania while the rest of the world burns?"

"Yes!" Regulus snapped. "Yes, if it means you live another year. If it means you don't bleed out in some corridor surrounded by Death Eaters. If it means I don't have to sit outside a hospital room again wondering if you're going to die before I get to say goodbye properly this time—"

The room still.

Cassie blinked. Just once. Her expression softened, but not her stance.

"I'm going back, Dad," she said quietly.

"You're not—"

"I am," she said again. "Because Hogwarts needs me. The Slytherins need someone standing in the frontlines who doesn't pretend this war won't touch us. And because if I disappear now, everything I've built goes to shit."

Regulus dragged a hand through his hair like he was trying not to combust. "You are the most infuriating—"

"I know."

"You're reckless—"

"Yup."

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"Wouldn't be the first time someone tried," she muttered.

Theo let out a low exhale, hiding his grin behind his hand.

Regulus turned to him. "She's your problem now."

"I figured that out months ago," Theo said dryly, leaning back with a shrug.

"Fine," Regulus said finally, dragging the word out like it physically pained him. "You're going back. But only if he stays with you."

Cassie arched an eyebrow. "You're assigning me a babysitter now?"

"Exactly," Regulus said. "Theodore. You don't leave her side. Not for anything. If she gets herself stabbed again—"

"I'll stab her myself for saving me the trouble," Theo finished solemnly.

Cassie grinned.

Regulus groaned rubbing his head.  He grabbed his cloak and turned dramatically toward the door. muttering something about "Black genetics being cursed."

Cassie turned to Theo.

"Well?"

He grinned bowing his head "Castle awaits its queen."

****************************

I missed writing angst so muchhh

upcoming next chap is the last chap- wont be long cos its the ending - but dumbly cassie confrontation coming upppp.... I might just post it today night or tmrw morning

till next time mxriddle