Chapter Text
The train slowed as it pulled into the station. Cassandra got off and grabbed her trunk, hauling it off the carriage. She sighed and dragged it behind her, eyeing the crowded platform as witches and wizards in colorful robes greeted their children.
She came to a stop near one of the walls, watching all of them. Happy parents embraced their children, each one smiling before escorting their children either to the barrier or to the floo network. Other seventh years laughed and hugged one another before disapparating away.
Cassandra sighed and slid down the wall, sitting on the ground next to her trunk. Her dad wasn’t going to come and pick her up; him having fled the scene after committing a murder seemed a decent enough reason to not show his face. Her godfather could come, though the wizarding world wasn’t accepting of people who were werewolves. She could summon Voldemort, but the Dark Lord wouldn’t risk being seen by aurors and wizards alike.
Therefore, she was alone to wait on the platform; at least until the line for the floo network wasn’t as long.
A woman walked over to her and eyed her, one eyebrow raised. “Get up,” she instructed.
“I found this spot first,” Cassandra argued.
“Now,” she hissed, roughly pulling her to her feet.
“Ow! What do you think you’re—?” She was cut off, seeing something in the woman’s face.
“Keep. Your. Head. Down.” She took her wand out and Cassandra’s trunk shrank enough for it to be placed in a pocket. “Now.”
Cassandra picked her trunk up and slipped it into her jacket, nodding as she followed the woman to the barrier and out into King’s Cross Station. They passed a few muggles before exiting the building and getting into the back of a muggle car.
“Drive,” the woman instructed to the man in front. “You know where to go.”
She glared at the woman as the man moved the muggle car and drove them toward the road.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “Really? Because if my dad finds out that you kidnapped me, then he will hunt you down and kill you! Not to mention the other people who will come after you!”
“You really think that will happen?”
Cassandra opened her mouth to reply, only for the woman’s appearance to change as the spell fell away. There was no mistaking the proud woman dressed in green, her blonde hair pinned back with jewels, her eyes instantly landing on Cassandra as she turned. Her blue eyes looked at Cassandra with almost as little emotion as her face portrayed.
She instead sighed and crossed her arms, leaning against the seat. “The point still stands.”
“Severus knows better than to cross me,” Narcissa pointed out. “I was also sent to fetch you.”
“By who?”
“The Dark Lord.”
“You?”
“Does that honestly surprise you? My husband is currently under house arrest now that he’s been freed from Azkaban. My son is currently a suspect in a murder at Hogwarts after having fled the scene just like your father is. I suppose he could’ve sent Bellatrix to fetch you, but then you wouldn’t be alive right now, would you?”
“You were a Slytherin at Hogwarts, weren’t you?”
“Yes I was.”
“You sound like my dad whenever he tries to lecture me.”
“I’ve had practice with the amount of lectures I’ve had to give Draco when he was younger. And then I find that a young half-blood has put ideas into his head about forsaking his heritage and refusing to marry a pureblood witch.”
She smirked as she looked out the window. “How could that have happened, I wonder?”
“What does Draco possibly see in you? You’re not a pureblood, nor is your family well-connected to anyone in the ministry with high political power. You’re often in detention at school according to what he’s told me, and you don’t participate in any Quidditch activities. The only thing you could possibly have is your supposed ‘destiny’ as the Chosen One, if that even succeeds.”
“Thank you for those lovely words of encouragement, Narcissa. Very uplifting.”
“Not to mention your lack of respect toward those higher than you.”
“I show respect when I have a reason to. Don’t have much of a reason to right now.”
“All I’m saying is that I can’t imagine what my son sees in you.” She sighed in resignation. “And yet it would seem that you’re the only option I’m left with.”
“Meaning?”
“Draco...refuses to leave his room for any reason other than meals. He makes very little conversation with either of us, and his mood has drastically decreased. Not even the promise of seeing one of his friends from Hogwarts can increase his mood. Therefore—and I regret ever having to ask this—it would be my advice that you talk to Draco.”
“Why should I? Seeing as the last time I saw him, he was on the Astronomy Tower with his wand pointed at Dumbledore….”
“Because it would be in Draco’s best interest to—”
“And you don’t even care about me? Just all for Draco then?”
“I’m his mother and he is my son. Of course I care for Draco!” Narcissa sighed in an effort to calm her tone. “Why else would I do the things that I’ve done to protect my son?”
“You’re not protecting him. You’re sheltering him. There’s a difference.”
“You claim to know anything about what life is like for a pureblood?”
“No, but I do know that the real world is changing and when it wants to punish you, it hits hard. All of those books and tutors are only preparing him for one life and that’s one where everyone treats him nicely. Real world doesn’t work that way, Narcissa. Never does.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “Trust me. I know better than anyone.”
“Then perhaps you can put that clever mind of yours to work and consider things as they are. If you talk to Draco, then you’d be doing me a favor.”
“And?”
“I’d owe you a favor. One of the most powerful pureblood families would be indebted to you. You could do quite a lot with that, you know. You’d have the chance to take the best position at the ministry if you’d want to.”
“All I have to do is talk to Draco? That’s it? No promise of any outcome? No threats? No bargains? Just...talk with him?”
“Yes.”
She nodded in agreement. “Though I suggest you put it in writing. Might as well have something to prove that you’d owe me.”
“I don’t blame you for asking. Just as I hope you don’t blame me for what happened. A mother will do anything to protect her child, after all.”
“Wouldn’t know seeing as I don’t have one. Or did you forget that my mom died because the Dark Lord killed her for being a traitor?”
“I wouldn’t have forgotten that so easily, you know. Lucius did know her, after all, as he was a prefect when she was in her first year.”
“Everyone else forgot. They’re too busy focusing on the fact that was the same day the Potters died. And now everyone thinks that I’m trying to replace Harry Potter as the Chosen One. Never asked for a stupid prophecy. You probably think I’m trying to kill the Dark Lord too.”
“I’m not a Death Eater. Everyone else in my family is.” She glanced over at Cassandra. “Someone has to look out for the Malfoy family. Do you have any idea how many times my husband almost ruined our family name with his work as a Death Eater? Do you have any idea how many times he came close to jeopardizing his position at the ministry because of it?”
“I stay out of politics. Too many people trying to use you to get what they want.”
“Well, you’ll find that family is everything in the end. Your name is everything in the end.”
“If that’s the case, my dad lost that name when he killed Dumbledore.”
“You blame him for what he did?”
“He took his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore—who didn’t even have a chance to defend himself—and used the Killing Curse on him! Not only that, he fled Hogwarts! I was there and he left! Not a single word to me and not even a single explanation or warning for what he was about to do!”
“Then perhaps you ought to blame me for part of it,” she suggested. “I did make him swear to help Draco with the task. Though it was Bella’s idea to have Severus make the Unbreakable Vow due to his questionable loyalties.”
“ ‘Questionable’?”
“Has it ever occured to you that he might be more loyal to Dumbledore’s cause than to ours? Well, I suspected that he wouldn’t waver due to the cost of Draco’s failure, but Bella wasn’t too certain of that.”
“Ah, yes. The price he would end up paying for failure.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Draco really loves you, doesn’t he?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I was there, remember? I heard what he said to Dumbledore. He said that if he didn’t kill him, then the Dark Lord would kill ‘her’. Dumbledore even tried to offer you protection if it would get him to stop. Obviously it didn’t work.”
Narcissa’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her. “And yet the Dark Lord thinks you’re clever.”
“What?”
“Do you honestly believe that your own father would swear to do whatever it takes to keep me safe from the Dark Lord? That Draco would?”
“Who else would Draco care about enough for the Dark Lord to threaten?”
“Ma’am?” the driver asked. “We’re here.”
Narcissa opened the door without another word. Cassandra sighed and got out as well, glaring at Malfoy Manor. She silently followed the blonde as the muggle car left.
XXX
They walked into the manor and Narcissa led her toward the dining room. The table was already filled with four occupants. Narcissa walked over to sit next to her husband, Lucius Malfoy. It was a shock to see how much more haggard he had grown after his short time in Azkaban. The once-proud, blonde haired father of Draco Malfoy looked utterly…. She didn’t know how to even describe the emotion on his face. Defeated. Broken, perhaps. She had heard that Azkaban was the worst place for any wizard to end up, and if that was what could be done to someone in just over a year, she couldn’t imagine a life sentence.
Then again, the witch sitting across from Narcissa said otherwise. Bellatrix Lestrange sat in her chair with a proud arrogance of being at the right-hand side of the Dark Lord. Despite her appearances—Cassandra might’ve said that she could’ve been an attractive witch a long time ago if it wasn’t for the crazed look in her dark eyes—Bellatrix was perhaps the most dangerous one seated there. And that was certainly saying something in itself. Not to mention the look she gave her, as if Bellatrix was expecting a knife to be thrown into her heart at any second.
She glanced over at her father instead. He kept his hands folded before him and he his gaze focused there instead of on her. At least Snape seemed ashamed of what he had done that night. He turned his head slightly to look at her, his silent dark eyes warning her to stay cautious.
“Ah. You’ve made it at last,” a voice spoke.
Cassandra looked to the head of the table. To anyone else, he might’ve appeared as a handsome pureblood wizard. His dark hair was combed to perfection and his robes were just as perfectly suited for him as the wand he held in his long fingers. Even the snake curled nearby seemed perfectly acceptable to him. The dark red eyes though...those betrayed every sense of outward perfection and calm that Lord Voldemort put into his perception. Everyone thought that the Dark Mark that graced the arms of his followers was what struck so much fear into everyone that not a single person could dare to speak his name, yet the eyes themselves were what truly struck fear.
“Did you have a pleasant trip home, Cassandra?” Voldemort continued. “Not too long, I hope?”
“Considering that I have yet to reach home, my lord, I wouldn’t be able to answer you.”
He smirked and nodded in agreement. “Spoken more like a Slytherin than a Ravenclaw. I see you’ve inherited your mother’s wit. Hasn’t she, Severus?”
“More and more, my lord,” he quietly answered.
“I must apologize for summoning you here instead.” Voldemort stood as Cassandra walked toward them. “A meeting with Lucius here ran a bit late, I’m afraid. Do have a seat. We saved one specifically for you. Our guest of honor.”
“Thank you, sir.” She sat down directly across from him. “Though I think Bellatrix has more of the honored seat than I do.”
“You are correct. I’m surprised you know something like that.”
“Aunt Minnie had me learn table manners a long time ago.” She shrugged. “Along with a few other things.”
“Then your godmother must be a force to be reckoned with.” He set his wand in front of him, leaned on the table, and pressed his fingers together.
“Oh, she is. I think they might’ve made a mistake with this whole ‘Chosen One’ thing. I would not want to get on her bad side if I were you, sir.”
“Not even the most feared wizard could make her tremble, hm?”
“And she’d slap you for saying the wrong thing too.”
He chuckled. “Then hopefully I’ll never have to meet her.”
“My lord?” Bellatrix interrupted. “You did call her here for a reason, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.” He shot the witch a look. “Though things do tend to go a bit easier after a small bit of conversation.” Voldemort sighed and shook his head before returning his attention to Cassandra. “You were there that night, weren’t you? When Albus Dumbledore was killed on the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts?”
“Yes.”
“And you saw what happened from the beginning? When Draco first confronted him unaccompanied?”
She nodded.
Voldemort stood and began walking over toward her. “So you saw what Draco did that night? You saw who killed Dumbledore then?”
“Yes.”
He came to a stop at her chair and looked down at her. “Tell us what happened that night, Cassandra. It’s alright. Just tell us what happened. Exactly as you can remember it.”
“It was dark,” she began. “Dumbledore and I...we were on the Astronomy Tower...alone.”
“Any particular reason?”
Cassandra looked up at him, meeting his eyes as she steadied herself. She could feel Voldemort prodding her mind to search for the answer. She redirected him to some other memory, away from the truth, the way her father had taught her.
“He wanted to talk about something. Said that he wanted to do it outside of his office. Then we heard footsteps. Dumbledore told me to go below, to hide out of sight. He didn’t explain it, but he sounded urgent, so I did what he said. Then Draco came.”
“And what did Draco do?”
“He disarmed him. He told Dumbledore that...that he was the one who had been trying to kill him all year. He said that you had put him up to it.”
“Did Draco try to kill Dumbledore?”
“I—I don’t think so, sir. Draco…. I don’t think he could bring himself to do it. The other Death Eaters came before he even had a chance to do it. Draco snuck them into the castle. He said that he had been repairing the Vanishing Cabinet to do so.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Dad came and told me to stay quiet before he went to join them.” Her hands curled into fists in her lap. “Dumbledore begged him to do something...and then dad killed him.”
“I’m quite certain your father has done much worse in his time than kill an old fool like Dumbledore. Or did you actually begin to trust him?”
“I never trusted him, sir. Not fully, at least. I mean, I had to trust him enough. He was the headmaster, after all.”
“And what would you say to Dumbledore’s death? Did you grieve for him, perhaps?”
“Not really. I mean, he was the headmaster, so I suppose I did grieve some, but not enough to care.” She glared at Bellatrix. “I’ve lost more important people than Dumbledore.”
Cassandra winced as Voldemort found an opening in her Occlumency. She could see the duel at the ministry toward the end of her fifth year. She could see herself trying to defend against the other Death Eaters. She could feel the hand grabbing her arm, flinging her to safety as the curse lit everything in a bright green flash...could hear Bellatrix’s scream echoing in her mind once more….
“TRAITOR!”
She could still feel the hurt at losing one of her friends, of finding out that it had been Barty Crouch Jr. all that time….
“I did tell you once that you can either choose to fight or suffer,” Voldemort softly murmured. “Have you forgotten that lesson?”
Cassandra shook her head. “I haven’t forgotten, sir.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “We’ll see about that.Oh, and it is a good thing that Dumbledore’s dead,” Voldemort pointed out. “That’s all that was needed. Severus, a word? At the manor?”
“Yes, my lord.”
She stood and left the room with the others as Snape and Voldemort disapparated. Narcissa gently grabbed her arm.
“Draco’s in his room.”
She nodded and went up the stairs. Cassandra walked down the hall to his room and knocked, hearing the sound echo in the quiet manor.
“Go away, mother,” came the reply. “Whatever it is you want to say, I’m not interested.”
Cassandra sighed and tried the knob before pounding on the door again.
A lock clicked and the door swung open.
“I already said—” Draco was cut off as he saw her. His gray eyes widened in surprise as he looked her over, almost as to reassure himself that it was really her. “Cassandra? What are you doing here?”
“Forced conversation courtesy of your mother.” She stepped inside his room.
Books had been tossed everywhere there was available space. The desk was littered with used quills, spilled ink, and crumpled up pieces of parchment. The bed was a mess with a pile of clothes nearby. The only clean space in the room was the wall where Draco had attached photographs of his Quidditch teammates, a few from Slytherin house, and even one or two of both of them.
Cassandra turned to face him, taking in the way his shirt had a few stains on it and he had missed a few buttons putting it on. His paints were barely being held up by the belt he wore, and his bare feet shuffled on the carpet as he walked. His blonde hair was a complete and utter mess, which somehow looked better on him than she had ever seen it when he had put some effort into his appearance.
“You look like hell,” she commented.
“Feel like it.” He sighed and shifted his weight. “You just got back then? From Hogwarts?”
“You didn’t miss much. Funeral for Dumbledore, end of the year feast…. Gryffindor won the House Cup, but what else is new? Slytherin lost. Apparently a student trying to murder the headmaster is cause for seriously losing some house points.”
“And what about you though? Are you...okay?”
“I’ve been better. Sadly I can’t say that I’ve been worse.”
He took a hesitant step toward her. “I heard them talking downstairs some. Have you seen him? The Dark Lord?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask you? About what happened? About Dumbledore? Did he say anything about it?”
She eyed him, seeing the desperate look in his eyes. “Yes….”
“And? What’d he say? What’d he want?”
“Just wanted to know what happened.”
“Did he say anything though? About me? About me not being able to kill Dumbledore?”
“I don’t think so. Just seemed like he wanted to know what happened. That’s all. Think he just really cared that Dumbledore’s dead.”
“But did he say anything about what would happen? About whether or not I failed him? If I would get punished for it?”
“No. He just seemed happy that Dumbledore’s dead. That’s all. Didn’t seem like he cared whether or not you were the one to do it.”
“Really? You’re sure?”
“Yes. Draco, why are you so—?”
She grunted as he quickly stepped over and hugged her so quickly he almost tackled her to the ground.
“Draco?”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he murmured into her shoulder. “Merlin, you have no idea how worried I was about you.”
“Why would you be worried about me?”
He looked at her. “Because...if I failed...if I didn’t kill Dumbledore...the Dark Lord...he said that...he said that he was going to kill...you….”
“Me?”
Draco nodded. “And I thought that since I didn’t kill him, that he would see that as a failure...that you would be dead as soon as you got back...that I...that I would never get a chance to see you again…. It’s why I had to do all of those things. The necklace...the mead...it’s why all of that had to happen.”
Cassandra hesitated before taking a step back. “Stop it.”
“Cassandra….”
“Just stop it!” she insisted. “I don’t care about any of that, alright? I don’t want to hear it!”
“You’re alright with what I did?”
“No.”
“But you don’t want to hear what I have to say? I just thought that you would want to seeing as we’ve been friends for years now….”
“Drop it, Hermione!” Weasley shouted. “Dumbledore’s dead! You don’t have to pretend to like her anymore now! We can be done!”
“Ronald doesn’t know what he’s saying!”
“Yes I do! Dumbledore made us agree to be friends with you! Why else would anyone want to be friends with a Death Eater like her? Who would ever want to friends with someone like her?”
“Cassandra?” He reached out to touch her.
She took a step back.
“What is it? What happened?” Draco took a small step forward and she took one back, still keeping her distance. “I know you, Cassandra. I know that look. We’re friends. You can tell me anything.”
“But you can’t tell me?”
“What?”
“That entire year you knew what you had to do and you couldn’t tell me?”
“He said that I couldn’t tell anyone.”
“You could’ve found a way to tell me. I wouldn’t have told anyone. Not even my dad. But you just couldn’t trust me, could you?”
“Of course I trust you!”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid that if I did tell you he’d find out and kill you! I couldn’t risk it. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Too late, Malfoy.” She walked toward the door.
“Cassandra!” Draco ran past her, blocking her exit.
“Get out of my way.”
“No.”
“Let. Me. Leave.”
“No.”
“Why not? There’s no real point in me staying, is there? I’m just some half-blood, remember? I’m just some traitor Chosen One who can’t even control her magic, remember? You should be begging for me to leave!”
“You think I care about any of that?”
“The rest of your family seems to.”
“I don’t!” he shouted, grabbing her arms. “Alright? You’re my best friend, Cassandra! If I cared about your magic or your blood or any of that stuff, I would’ve left years ago when your magic shot me into that tree when we were kids!”
“So why haven’t you then? You think I want you around?”
“Yes.” He put his hands on the sides of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Merlin, I hope so. I—Cassandra, you’re…. You’re completely mental if you don’t think I care about you.”
“I never said—”
“But you thought it. I know you enough. I can see it. And whoever put that idea in your head—that you’re not worth caring about—well, give me the name and I’ll hex them so badly that not even St. Mungo’s can help.”
“Why?” she demanded, moving his hands away. “I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t want you to protect me! I don’t want your help!”
“Well you’re still going to get it either way.”
“I don’t want your help, Malfoy.”
“But you do want something.”
“I….” She sighed, staring at the floor. “I want people to stop. I...want to stop…. Everyone...all they see...I just...I want it to stop….”
“You want to stop being you?”
“I want to stop being a Death Eater, the Chosen One, the girl who has to spend every waking moment trying to control her magic. I want to stop being the weird freak. I want that to stop being the only thing people see when they look at me.”
Draco sighed and turned her around, walking her over to the mirror as he wrapped his arms around her. “Alright. You want it to stop?”
She nodded.
“Then look.” He tilted her chin up. “Because all I see are two complete gits. No Chosen One and no uncontrollable magic. Just myself and the one person I will never be able to beat in a duel.”
“But still a Death Eater?”
He shrugged. “You and I are both Death Eaters now, so does that one really matter?”
Cassandra glanced down at his arm. She moved the sleeve aside, lightly tracing the Dark Mark on his skin. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not anymore. There are times when I’m being summoned, but other than that….”
“You didn’t have to take it.”
“I did.” He sighed and lightly touched her sleeve. “You on the other hand….” He moved her arm and pulled her sleeve back. “You’ve had this for as long as I can remember.”
“It’s been there for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was little.”
“Did you ever think that this would be where we’d end up? Two Death Eaters who aren’t even adults yet being forced to do the things we’ve done?”
“One thing I’ve learned is that you never really know what’s coming until it’s too late.”
“Maybe one day we’ll find a way to get these things off. One less thing for us to worry about.”
“Draco?”
He looked at her, gray eyes meeting blue. “Yeah?”
“Why are you so...why are you still here? Why do you still care?”
His eyes fell to the floor and he slowly released her arm. “It’s not just that I care about you. I mean, I do care, but at the same time….”
“Then what am I to you?”
“You really want to know?”
“Better I find out now than later. Less hurt that way.”
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “You really are mental, you know that?”
“Meaning?”
“You pretend you’re all clever, but you’re really not, Johnson.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“There’s no way this is going to hurt less.”
She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, only for Draco to grab her and press his lips against hers. He broke apart from her, breathless as he looked at her.
Cassandra hesitated, mind reeling as she searched for words. “I—Draco—”
“You don’t have to say anything. But you did ask.”