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It was the middle of the night when Cassiopeia’s ring vibrated.
The warm July night had left her no choice but to leave the window open in the small shack she had commandeered, no matter how unsafe. No matter how apprehensive she had been just a few hours earlier leaving it open, she was glad the full moon now illuminated the single room enough for her to hurriedly throw on her boots and overcoat. Doing a mental count of her wands and wordlessly dismantling the wards, Cassiopeia disapparated in a snap of light.
She passed through the house’s wards seamlessly, landing in the foyer lightly and casting a presence-detecting charm. Thankfully, it looked like the only other person who was supposed to be there was alone.
He stepped into the moonlight right where the foyer opened into the kitchen, blond hair illuminated, black suit wrinkled and torn on his left leg.
Cassiopeia rushed forward, wrapping her brother in the first hug they had shared in six years. Pulling back, she cupped his face, scanning for any injuries, but only finding a terrified boy.
“Is it done then?”
The younger boy shook his head, “No, I ran.”
“He’s coming then, isn’t he?”
“Undoubtedly.”
At that moment, the wards shook powerfully, a flash of light illuminating the house as the madman reflected off the layered wards.
“No matter what happens, stay behind me,” Cassiopeia said, pulling an odd mess of strings from her pocket. It fell to the floor with a flick, strings darting out to make a circle around the siblings connected with marble-like spheres.
With a twist of her mind, Lord Voldemort entered the house.
Dark tendrils of dust weaved violently through the house, searching for the Malfoy boy. When they found the marble and string circle, they recoiled harshly, joining together and solidifying together in front of the pair.
“You have disrespected me, Draco, my boy.” The man, thing, hissed.
“No one should have respect for a wizard like you.” Cassiopeia said, her features twisted in a scowl of disgust and anger.
“Ah, Cassiopeia,” He hissed in intrigue, surprise even? “You always were a determined little witch. Such a shame you poisoned your brother to follow in your abandonment. Still, it is not too late to join me, I offer riches you cannot dream of.”
“Alright, times up, Snake Face. Deprimo!” The floor dropped out from under the Dark Lord, and Cassiopeia yanked her hand upward as he began flying around the room.
“Scutum!” The marbles glowed brightly before shooting webs of light upwards to connect to the center point now floating about the sibling’s heads. A spell glanced off the shield as it solidified, riveting around the room as it rebounded.
“I’m going to draw on your magic, just for a minute, okay? Whatever you do, do not let go of me. Five minutes until departure, max.”
Spells were bouncing off the shield nonstop, filling the room with light and nearly blinding the siblings. Cassiopeia hunched forward, brows drawn in concentration, lips moving without sound. Draco could vaguely feel a tug on his magic, like it was being forced through a wand that was not his own.
The kitchen was entirely destroyed, dust and debris swirling around the room as much as Voldemort’s magic was. Whatever emotions left within him centered and swirled with rage currently, his pride preventing him from calling his Death Eaters to him. It would do no good for them to see how he was incapable of dispatching a single young witch and barely adult brother.
In a lucky break, a spell, diruo, caught the edge of a marble, and it shattered. The shield flickered, and the adjacent marbles shifted from a glowing blue to a barely alive grey.
The Dark Lord was gleeful in the small advancement and threw his power outwards to settle the room. So he could see them better. So they could see Death.
“Cass…” Draco cried, terrified of the red-eyed monster that was gliding toward them.
“Hold on!” In a pop, they disappeared, the shield falling useless and broken before another spell could even touch it.
Draco knew what falling felt like. He had fallen enough from his broom in Quidditch to know that after you fell, you usually got hurt. Usually, however, he would fall alone, not be held tightly by another person. Forcing his eyes open against the wind and the darkened night, Draco saw the start dotted sky above him and the black water of the ocean below him. Or at least he had been able to see that.
“Pestis Incendium!” A great shape of fire burst from his side, striking the house as they fell closer and closer to the waves crashing below them. The building, no matter how well protected by wards, crumbled under the heat of the cursed flame. Draco thought for a second that the wards had snapped, unleashing the fire to the surrounding area, but he was confused when it simply bounded around the house, content to eat away at the remains of the building.
Still falling, Draco and his sister vanished in another snap of disapperation.
They landed in water.
Their landing echoed loudly in the night. Cassiopeia rolled with a groan, magical exhaustion sinking in.
“Are you alright, Draco?”
“Fine, I think. Where the bloody hell are we?”
“Somewhere safe. Come.”
A wordless lumos later, Draco found himself standing in muddy water surrounded by reeds and grasses nearly as tall as he and Cassiopeia. She cast a point-me spell and started pushing her way through the grasses, hopping over divots of water and mud, pausing at the slightest of sounds.
Draco regarded his sister with a cool demeanor. These were the skills that she was built for, that her magic sang into fruition, and she made the choices to follow. She never would have been content being a Pureblood’s wife. This was what she was made for. The adventure, the unflinching magical prowess fueled by generations of magic wielders.
He thought for a second Lucius would have a heart attack if he could see her now.
After twenty minutes, Cassiopeia paused, holding her hand up for Draco to stay in place while she moved forward another few yards. He saw the flash of a ward line as she prodded it with her wand. With a few swishes and whispered incantations, she returned to his side.
“We can get through now; follow me, and when we get there, let me do the talking. I’ll explain everything tomorrow.” She said. Draco could tell she was weary, no matter how powerful she was, three diapperations, ward manipulation, dark curses, and fighting the Dark Lord would do anyone in if they were even an ounce weaker, so he simply nodded.
She led him back to the ward line, her wand in hand and held in front of her. In a moment of silence, she pushed through, dragging Draco through behind her quickly.
From their vantage point, he could see a ramshackle conglomeration of walls stacked high. So this was the infamous Weasley burrow. It was as ugly as he had imagined.
Cassiopeia walked forward without pause; in fact, it seemed as if she had increased her pace.
Draco suddenly felt as if a raw egg had been cracked over his head and realized with a start Cassiopeia had performed both a wandless and wordless disillusionment charm on him and was now doing the same to herself. He was confused for a moment; if it was safe, why bother with the charms? He went without asking, as it could disturb the charm, and followed where the grass pressed down as she led him to the house.
Light still poured out from the first floor, and gentle murmurs reached outside despite the late hour. Cassiopeia reached the door frame, her disillusion charm glistening slightly in the light, and pushed up the top half, twisting the lower handle. Through a window, Draco could see only four family members sitting on mismatched couches and chairs. Arthur Weasley sat across from two older boys, Draco was unsure of which ones, and the matriarch, Molly, sat by the fire, knitting furiously as she listened.
With a gentle push, Cassiopeia opened the door, canceling both disillusion charms as she went.
“Room for two more?” Cassiopeia asked, teasing despite her tired demeanor.
The room exploded in a fury of activity and shouts, and Draco felt as if he faded into the background.
“Cass!” One of the boys exclaimed, rushing forward to capture her in a hug that she sank into gratefully. They exchanged small mutters before Cassiopeia shook her hands, and he stroked her left forearm, kissing her cheek gently, exhaustion evident in her features.
“Oh my goodness! Let me get started on some tea. Rest will have to wait!” Molly said, brushing her second son aside to hug the girl tightly. Said son, moved on to Draco, extending his hand.
“Charlie Weasley, I’ve heard a lot about you, Draco.” The blond shook his hand weakly, disregarding his lessons and supremacy ideas, giving in to his own exhaustion.
Molly had left Cassiopeia to her husband, who had also hugged her, before moving into the kitchen, putting a kettle on, and levitating plates of food and mugs to the table.
A stampede of footfalls echoed above the room, descending down the stairwell, stopping violently when they had registered who one of the newcomers was.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had been having a nice night. Dinner had been a treat as always, Bill and Charlie stopping in midway through to discuss with their father. The kids had been dismissed, electing to play Exploding Snap upstairs while taking turns in the bathroom to prepare for bed. He had been talking with Hermione and Ron out on the balcony when they had noticed two glimmers in the grass for just a second, putting them on edge but not on high alert, and they had descended back into talking about school and the war.
When the commotion had started downstairs, the trio had paused before collecting Ginny from the bathroom and the twins from their room. Harry led the charge down the stairs, focusing very hard not to trip on the multiple loose or squeaky stairs. Pausing so suddenly at the bottom, Hermione ran into his back, pushing him further into the room.
“Malfoy!” He shouted, wand drawn, Ron following close behind with a yell of his own. A woman moved between him and Draco, raising her wand, and her eyes flashed dangerously.
More shouting erupted from the room, his friends and Bill from behind him, Molly from where she emerged from the kitchen, and Arthur and Charlie flanking the woman.
Harry stopped, wand raised, not even a yard between the wand points of his and hers. Belatedly, he realized she had never uttered a sound, and Malfoy hadn’t even reached for his wand, only standing dejected behind Charlie, looking worse than anyone had ever seen him.
“Don’t even think about it, Potter.” The woman said, shaking, but her eyes promised pain.
“Harry, don’t do it,” Charlie said, eyes nervously darting between Cassiopeia and the supposed savior of the wizarding world.
No one could have ever said Harry James Potter was the smartest; that title was quite firmly held by Hermione, and his wand was moving before he could weigh his options, none of which were in his favor.
“Confingo!”
The blasting curse was blocked and answered with a volley of non-verbals, smashing the space where Harry would have been standing if Charlie hadn’t tackled him. Spells started flying from every corner of the room, many participants unsure why they were casting. Cassiopeia stepped back, casting and enlarging a shield protecting both her and Draco. Arthur was working to subdue Harry and Ron as they cast towards the siblings, and Molly cast furiously to intercept spells flying from the group still at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Everyone stop!” Bill shouted, effectively silencing the room. Arthur ushered Harry and Ron backward, taking their wands for good measure. Cassiopeia stood in the middle of the room still, trembling as her wand followed Harry’s movements, eyes glazed over as if in a trance.
“Cass,” Charlie began, moving slowly in front of her to block her view, “You’re alright. Draco is alright. No one is going to go after either of you.”
Cassiopeia’s eyes drifted, still glazed, but she allowed Charlie to take her wand and force her arm down. He cupped her face, stepping into her space and tapping her hand.
“Time for this to go away now Cass.”
Her hands were covered in black webs, slowly crawling up her arms, evidence of magical exhaustion and her dabblings in dark magic. Cass’s eyes drifted to his once more, and she dropped into a dead faint.
“Cass!” Draco shouted, dashing forward to help Charlie lay his sister on the floor; his first movements since the other kids had come down the stairs. Her hair slowly changed from a boring brown to the typical Malfoy blonde, and a small scar emerged under her left ear.
“She’s a metamorphmagus!” Hermione exclaimed, eyes gleaming, mind racing with all of the study possibilities this presented.
“She doesn’t like to use it much. Mum will you get a Wideye potion from the cabinet?” Charlie muttered, brushing a lock of hair back from Cass’s face.
“Of course dear. Right now, all of you back up the stairs at once, and go to bed. We’ll take care of all this. And none of your tricks boys!” Molly said, fixing the other children with a stare until they retreated up the stairwell and door latches sounded from above. She returned quickly from the kitchen, handing Charlie the small vial.
He uncorked it, swirling the contents for a second, then waving it under Cassiopeia’s nose. She woke with a start, hunching forward and coughing as Charlie rubbed her back. When her hair fell forward, she paused, then it slowly started to revert to brown.
“It’s alright, love, everyone’s already seen it,” He tapped her hand, “These too, dear.”
Cassiopeia exhaled shakily before pushing Charlie away so he could help her stand.
“I think any discussion we need to have can wait until morning,” Arthur said, suddenly looking weary.
“You are absolutely right, dear, we all need some rest, especially these two, I’ll go see if I can’t find some pajamas for them,” Molly said, busying herself again.
“No. No, this can’t wait.” Cass said, taking the vial from Charlie and downing half of the potion before handing it off to Draco, who followed her lead.
“Table.” She said, allowing Charlie to help her to the dining room table. The remaining Weasleys followed suit, Draco sitting to Cass’s right.
“You start Draco, I only know what happened at the house.”
The Malfoy boy only looked slightly better after drinking the Wideye, but at least it didn’t seem like he was going to keel over.
“At the end of the year, I received a letter from Fath- Lucius. The Dark Lord had taken an interest in me finally, and he was making preparations to mark me sometime over the summer. I thought I wanted it. But then I saw how scared our mother was all the time, how withdrawn she was in her own home. I watched as He slaughtered Muggles in rage, leaving some to his followers to play with before killing them.” He paused, gathering his thoughts and taking deep breaths as he recounted the past weeks.
“I heard the wolves as they talked about what they would be allowed to do to you or any other blood traitors if you were caught.” He grimaced, hands trembling on the tabletop, eyes downcast.
“It was sprung on me tonight, last night. I had taken one bloody step into the dining room, and I knew. He had this crazed smile and tore into my mind with Legilimens before I could do anything. And I ran. Somehow I made it to my room and activated the portkey Cassiopeia had given me for an emergency. It dropped me in a house, and she apparated in a few minutes later.”
“I was alerted to Draco using the portkey by this ring which has an alarm on it. I apparated in to retrieve him when Voldemort appeared, and we fought, destroying the house with Fiendyfire in the process before apparating about a kilometer from here. You all basically know what happened after that.” Cassiopeia continued.
“Right, well now that we know what happened, I think we need to contact Dumbledore, and you two need to get some sleep. Magical exhaustion is no joke, let alone fighting Voldemort.” Bill said, a tone of finality in his voice.
“No. We can’t tell Dumbledore, he’ll tell Severus, and then it will be all over for everyone.” Cassiopeia objected.
“Cassiopeia, both Albus and Severus our on our side. They would never do anything to purposely put you or Draco in harm’s way.” Arthur said.
“We can’t- “He was there last night.” Draco cut in.
“What?”
“Uncle Sev, he was there, in the dining room. With Him”
Cassiopeia fixed Aurthur with a look.
“Alright, we will hold off on telling Albus, but that means you cannot stay here full-time. Where will you live? What are you going to do when school starts back up?” Arthur asked.
“We have some options.” She said, not elaborating.
“Alright then, everyone, it seems like all of the pressing matters have been taken care of, off to bed with all of you. Draco dear, you can take the couch down here, all of the boys are doubled up already. Now you three up to bed.” The Weasley matriarch took charge, ushering her boys and husband up the stairs and handing Draco a set of pajamas.
“I trust you have everything you need, dear?” She asked Cass. Cassiopeia nodded, pausing mid-movement for Charlie to kiss her cheek.
“We’ll be right up stairs if you need anything, dears.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Draco said carefully.
“Good night now.”
With a wave of her wand, Molly turned off the lights on the lower floor, dimming the living room light. With the darkness, exhaustion seemed to hit them both full force again, and they sagged, Draco turning away from Cass to change into the borrowed sleepwear and Cass doing the same to pull a set from an extended bag on her hip.
“So,” Draco began, settling on the couch, “You and Charlie, then?”
“For a few years now, yes. And thank you for trying Draco, I know all of this takes some adjustment.”
Her brother nodded, “Goodnight, Cass.”
With a wave, Cass turned off the final lights, settling into a worn armchair.
It was three hours later when Charlie found her still awake, sitting straight up, watching her brother sleep.
“Love, you need to sleep. This isn’t helping anyone.”
“I know, but I can’t help but be terrified that something is going to happen and unlike tonight I’m going to be powerless to stop it.”
“Look at me Cass,” Charlie said, cupping his girlfriend’s face, “No one is going to hurt him, or you. We have the best wards available right now and they only way you were able to get in is because you’ve been here and you can run circles around Bill in his ward calculations. None of the kids would even dare attacking you again after tonight, or the idea of my mother tanning their hides. Besides, I think Hermione has enough of an influence over Harry to keep him from doing anything rash again. You need to sleep so you can heal. So if, if, something would happen again, you would be able to help. Now I need you to drink this and stop worrying.” He handed her a vial, pulling out the cork and guiding it to her mouth.
Cass could not see the color in the darkness, but she immediately recognized the sweet taste when it hit her tongue.
“You traitor.” She murmured as the Sleeping Draught took over.
Charlie simply chuckled, lifting her from the armchair and carrying her up the stairs to the room he shared with Bill, pressing a kiss to her forehead in the darkness.
Hours later, it was not the sunlight that woke Cassiopeia up, but rather what sounded like a small explosion and a mixing bowl shattering. And then, of course, Molly Weasley’s scolding voice as George and Fred slunk away.
Charlie had long since vacated the bed they had shared, and Bill was nowhere to be found either. Cass leaned forward, pulling her legs under her, trying to find the will to get up and face the full house. Ultimately, she did and pulled toiletries from her bag, thankfully finding the bathroom empty.
After a shower and changing clothes, she felt much more like herself. With a clean pair of jeans and a sleeveless black shirt, she was Cassiopeia. Not Malfoy, not pureblood heiress, Cass. Just Cass.
She was in the middle of manipulating her hair when someone knocked on the door.
“Just a moment!”
Her hair stopped moving, and she tied it off, leaving it swinging as it flipped back over her shoulder. Taking a breath, Cass gathered her shower products and dirty laundry before opening the door.
It was Hermione.
“Oh, good morning Hermione.” She greeted cordially.
“Good morning Cassiopeia. Are you feeling quite well this morning? Everyone is downstairs if you need anything.”
“I’m fine, thank you for your concern, though.”
Cass returned her things to her bag, casting a drying charm on her towel before folding it, and attached the bag to her hip before exiting the bedroom again and heading for the kitchen. The clink and clatter of dishware and gentle pleasantries told her breakfast was already in full swing, meaning it was at least quarter to nine.
“Good morning everyone!” She greeted, stopping at her overcoat still draped from where she had left it the night before. She earned a few replies as she retrieved her wand and a few other objects she attached to her person before slipping into and zipping up her boots.
“Good morning, love,” She said, greeting Charlie with a kiss on the nose by leaning over where he was sitting at the table. Through his mouthful, he replied, but she was already making her way into the kitchen to find Molly and her tea.
“Oh, good morning, dear. Your tea is just where you left it.”
“Thank you, Molly. Breakfast smells as wonderful as always.” The younger woman greeted, pushing a tea sleeve away to find the old tin that held her brew. Finding a mug and the kettle, Cassiopeia poured herself a mug, dunking her tea bag as she returned to the table.
“Where’s Draco?” She asked, sitting down next to Charlie, removing the tea bag and stirring before taking a sip.
“It’s the strangest thing, really,” One of the twins began.
“He’s out back chopping wood.” The other finished.
Cass set down her mug as Charlie’s hand slid down her back.
“My brother, Draco Lucius Malfoy, is out back chopping wood?” She asked, incredulous. She never thought that her brother, who had never worked a day in his life for something he wanted, other than Quidditch perhaps, would be out behind the Weasley Burrow chopping wood.
“He’s been out there for the better part of an hour now. Woke up right as I started breakfast, changed into the clothes I had laid out, walked right out to pick up the axe, and split a block clean down the middle before I could say anything.” Molly answered, bustling another steaming plate of food onto the table.
“Tell me he ate something at least,” Cass asked.
Molly didn’t answer, and Cassiopeia rose from her seat.
“I’ll go get him.”
She exited, rounded the building, and there indeed was her brother, axe hefted high before it was brought down, splitting another log. He had accumulated quite the pile of firewood, even going so far as to separate good kindling pieces. Clearly, this was not typical Malfoy behavior.
“So, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are you goona stand out here chopping enough wood to get the Weasleys through winter?” Cass leaned against the house, punting away a gnome as it tried to bite her.
Draco split another log before answering.
“I don’t understand how you manage to make everything work out perfectly for yourself without even trying.” he held up a hand, silencing his sister’s objections before continuing.
“You’ve clearly spent a lot of time here, practically having a second family. I was so angry with you for so long after you ran. But you did what you needed to do, I recognize that now. But it doesn’t make me feel any less that you abandoned us, abandoned me. I’m still angry. Angry with Lucius and Uncle Sev. Angry with Weasle and Potter sitting in there. Angry with myself for being such a coward for years, believing in all the stupid lies we were spoonfed for years.”
Cass regarded her brother for a moment. She knew what he was feeling; hell, just a few years earlier, she was thinking along the same lines. The bigotry that they were taught doesn’t go away overnight, but Cass had broken it down over her years at Hogwarts, over her years with the Weasleys. Spitting in the face of tradition isn’t easy, and Cass had found it came with a lot of loathing over the what-ifs. Draco had already made his bed, but that didn’t mean he had to lay in it.
“Follow me.” She said shortly, electing not to say anything at all because even saying everything would be like saying nothing. She headed for the shed, stopping squarely between it and the house, drawing a simple ward line. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a simple chestnut wand. A training wand. An untraceable wand.
“Duel me.”
“Wot.”
“You heard me. Take out all of your frustrations on me, Merlin knows I deserve at least some of them. The ward line will keep all speel inside, canceling them so as to not deal with rebounds. Noting lethal, no Unforgivables, nothing that will cause long-lasting damage. That wand is untraceable and bends to each wielder, so come on, try and hit me.”
Draco moved with considerable speed, casting a knockback jinx quickly followed by a Duro charm. Cass deflected both, advancing sideways around her brother. He countered, sending an overpowered Stuperfy to block her Bombarda.
Their dance continued for a few more minutes before Cassiopeia wordlessly cast Tailoris, submerging the warded area in complete darkness and using a knockback jinx to topple her brother. The darkness evaporated, and Cass shattered the wards, effectively declaring the duel over.
“Feel better?” She asked, offering Draco a hand up from the dirt.
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
“Brilliant, then you can come inside with me and eat a proper breakfast.”
He groaned.
“I should have known this was all a ploy to get me to be less self-deprecating. You are a terrible person.” He said, trying to hand the training wand back.
“Keep it, you can’t use yours. And besides, I was in Slytherin for a reason, Draco.” She laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder to lead him back to the house.
Breakfast was still ongoing, the table still full of both food and people. The room quieted slightly as the siblings reemerged but started up again slowly when Cassiopeia nudged Draco to sit with the other kids while she retreated to her boyfriend’s side.
Cass momentarily thought Ronald’s head was going to explode when Draco asked him, politely, to pass the potatoes, but he was pushed down by Molly again.
“Of course, dear! Eat as much as you want now, I need to put some meat on those bones of yours, Merlin knows I’ve only just gotten Harry there.”
Breakfast finished without much fanfare; at least, no fights broke out. The girls stayed behind to help with the leftovers, although Ginny quickly snuck off once Charlie asked if anyone wanted to play a game of Quidditch. It caused Molly to fuss, but they managed fine with Cass, Hermione, and just a tad of magic.
Molly left to freshen up once the dishes were all stacked away, and Cassiopeia could tell Hermione had at least a few questions she was barely holding back asking. Deciding to humor the girl for at least a little while, Cassiopeia led her into the living room, where she flopped onto the armchair, and Hermione sat delicately on the couch.
“Alright, shoot, kid.”
Hermione’s eyes glimmered with questions, and she excitedly launched into a jumble of words and askings.
“So if you’re Malfoy’s older sister, why does he never talk about you? Why aren’t you in high society with the rest of your family, and what do they think about you being with Charlie? Why did you give Malfoy another wand this morning, and how could he use it? What is that thing that is on your back? And why were your hands turning black last night when you were using magic?” She paused to breathe, and Cass jumped in before Hermione could list more questions.
“Yes, I am indeed the firstborn of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy; however, Draco is the heir. This is due to two factors. First, he is the first born son of our parents union, and second, I ran away with a blood traitor. I…will not… elaborate on that right now, perhaps eventually.” She finished hesitantly.
“As for why he dosen’t speak of me, I would guess that it is due to my abandonemt of the family, and it is a rather socially taboo topic still in high society. We are both struggling with our upbringing still, Draco much more than me no matter what front he puts on.”
The bushy-haired girl looked as if she was half a second away from pulling out paper and taking notes; Cassiopeia was sure it would all be paraphrased later to be relayed to Potter and Ronald, but it was enough for Cassiopeia to continue.
“The wand Draco was using this morning to duel was a training wand. It basically has limits on what spells it can and cannot preform and can be used by and magic weilder. Many purebloods use them the summer before Hogwarts to begin to chanel their magic without using any actual spells. It’s not technically illegal, but it can be hard to find actual training wands and not just backstreet creations.”
Hermione bit her lip hesitantly before asking.
“You wouldn’t happen to have another wand would you? I’ve been doing some reading and Ihave a few spells I’d like to try before we head back to Hogwarts.”
“From what Charlie’s told me, I’m sure you have more than a few spells,” The girl opposite flushed, “But I do happen to have a second if you or any of the others would like to practice anything. Charlie and I typically duel after lunch together if you’d like to use it then.”
“Yes please! Will you also be using whatever,” she gestured with her hand, “that thing is?”
“No, no, this is not or ues in inclosed spaces. It’s not for practice.” Cass said, pulling the staff from her back.
“So it’s dangerous, but what exactly is it?”
“Magic,” Cassiopeia said with a grin, “Some of the purest battle magic that still exists. Extremely dangerous, extremely difficult to master, and extremely fun to use once you get the hang of it.”
“Will you at least tell me what it is?” Hermione asked, nearly begging in good fun.
“I’m sure you are smart enough to figure it out.” Cassiopeia countered, using the same tone.
The girls continued to chat for a bit before moving out to the lawn to watch the ongoing Quidditch game, although neither of them were partially interested in the sport. With only eight available players, they were short a few players for each team, and as such, they had elected to forgo the beater position.
The teams were divided into Ron as the keeper, Harry as the seeker, Ginny and George as the chasers for the first team, Fred and Charlie as the chasers, Bill as the keeper, and Draco as the seeker for the second team. As it stood, it seemed Potter’s team was winning 110 points to the other’s 80; however, the snitch was still in play, and neither of the boys appeared to be giving up yet.
A flit of gold circled the girls, and Charlie waved to Cassiopeia, losing the quaffle in the process and letting the other team score another goal. Cass simply shook her head at the antics and settled with Hermione, who was reading a book already. Charlie shot off again as Draco and Harry circled the pitch looking for the snitch, which was hovering low to the ground under Ronald.
Nearly twenty minutes later, whooping erupted from the pitch, straddling Hermione from her book. Draco hovered high above the pitch, the golden snitch grasped tightly between his fingers as he held it triumphantly, the score 180-260. The whole group slowly circled down, brooms being propped at the shed, before walking over to Hermione and Cassiopeia.
“I still think you cheated, Malfoy.” Ronald retorted.
“I would never do something so atrocious in such upstanding company, Weasley. I just must be a better flier than Potter here.” Draco said, accentuating his posh accent. He handed off the snitch to his sister, who admired the golden ball before letting it hover around.
“Come off it, Ron. We all saw Draco catch the snitch fairly, even if his spiral acceleration nearly gave everyone a heart attack.” Bill gave Cassiopeia a look as if to say, “Have a word with him about whatever he just pulled because I don’t want to hear my mother yell about having the boy be injured”. She had often received that look, but it had always been about Charlie. It was nice to see Bill taking Draco in like he had with her.
She rolled her eyes and grinned, silently transfiguring the snitch into a flying version of Ronald’s head, charming it to repeat what he said. It flitted around for a few minutes, chattering away before Charlie plucked it from the air and handed it back to Cass silently for her to de-transfigure it.
Ron was scowling fiercely at his siblings and the blonde-haired guests at this point.
“I don’t understand why you lot are all so okay with them being here!” He yelled, interrupting the gentle chatter.
“Ron,” Charlie began, “Do you have an issue with Cassiopeia and Draco staying here with us for a few days?”
“Yes! She’s probably just like him! A slimy snake ready to report everything back to her master, playing with you for fun, getting ready to kill us as we sleep!”
Both Charlie and Bill looked murderous themselves, and the twins had stepped back, pulling Ginny with them. Hermione did the same with Harry, much to his displeasure. Cassiopeia, however, was the calmest and most amused of the whole group.
“Yes, Ronald, look at you. You’ve got it all figured out now, don’t you?” Cassiopeia began, moving past Charlie, positively predatory towards Ron. Charlie’s eyes widened; he had seen her use this tacket before, and it was positively terrifying. She was positively terrifying, and he would do nothing to get in her way.
“The older, disgraced sibling returned from the dead only to serve a madman who only wants for himself to exist in power. The slimy snake who only knows loyalty and ambition as it’s run in her ancestor’s veins for generations. The girl who would do anything to protect her brother, even if it meant losing the rest of her family. But you don’t know that girl, do you? So, here’s the question, Ronald,” She bit out, entirely in his space but still advancing as he back-peddled, “Would you prefer Victoria from Hufflepuff?”
She shifted into a golden-haired girl, shrank an inch, and developed freckles across her exposed skin.
“Or perhaps, Megan from Ravenclaw?” A willowy-thin girl took her place, black hair cascading down her back.
“Or even, perhaps, David from Gryffindor?” A dark-skinned boy retook her place.
“You have no right to judge me, Ronald, when I’ve watched you grow into a spiteful boy. I haven’t a clue where it came from, with the rest of your family being so welcoming over the years. Just because my last name is Malfoy doesn’t mean that I am like my father or that Draco will kneel at the Dark Lord’s feet. Just because I was a Slytherin doesn’t automatically make me your enemy.” She whirled away from the younger boy, leaving him standing far from the others.
The whole Burrow shook as the kitchen door slammed, and the group flinched.
“Shouldn’t you go after her, mate?” One of the boys asked.
“Are you kidding? The last time I saw her explode like that, she took on a full-grown Norwegian Ridgeback afterward. By herself. I value my life too much to go after her when she’s like that.”
The group slowly drifted apart, many of them moving into the kitchen to find snacks before heading upstairs for downtime or to play a round of Exploding Snap. Bill disapparited after talking to his mother and saying goodbye to his siblings, leaving Charlie alone in his room.
Cassiopeia was nowhere to be found after what happened with Ron. It hadn’t surprised Charlie to find her gone, but he wished she would have left her a note at least. Her anger was one thing that he was not fond of interrupting or receiving; she rivaled his mother, and he rued the day they would get into a spat.
Charlie sat on his bed, spinning his wand in his hand, simply thinking. Cassiopeia would return eventually. She always did.
Far away, a training dummy slammed into a wall before being obliterated in an explosion of dust. It was not the first to meet that fate.
Cassiopeia had been at it for nearly three hours. Transfigure, damage, repeat. The room was littered with dummy parts, and a fine layer of dust settled in between each round while she re-transfigured her “opponents”. She was covered in sweat and grime, evidence of the never-ending assault she was practicing against.
She didn’t necessarily regret what she had said to Ronald, but she had thought he was smart enough to realize it was her showing up year after year, even if she was “Victoria,” “Megan,” or “David”. It had never mattered if she was a Malfoy; she had simply been Charlie’s friend. And that’s why it hurt. No matter what she did, she was still a Malfoy.
With a flick of her wand, another dummy was sliced in half, and its partner was disintegrated. She paused, counting the remaining dummies and taking in the damage that the room had been dealt. A large patch of plaster was missing from the far wall, and the wooden floor was charred and splintered, and in one section missing completely. The mirror hanging over the chest of draws was cracked, and the bed was leaning precariously on only three legs.
Her hands ached. Yes, definitely a good time to stop with the offensive magic.
Cassiopeia let her ward circle drop and took a relieved breath, her shoulders untensing and eyes dropping closed. There was still work to be done, but she walked to the mirror, wordlessly repairing in and taking in her appearance.
She looked startlingly like her mother after the first war. Blonde hair hanging limp and dark circles under her eyes, and for a second, Cassiopeia wasn’t sure if she was going to punch the mirror or start crying. She was so, so tired of her broken family. Of her deranged extended family. Of the madman who resided in her childhood home and memories.
Resisting the urge to fix her appearance, Cassiopeia turned her attention to the bed, finding the missing leg clear across the room by the bath door. She went around the room in a similar fashion, repairing the wall, floor, and windows where her casting had damaged them. Once done, she exited the room, locking and heavily warding the door before descending three flights of stairs.
Her hands were still marked with the black webbing of dark magic, tingling as she walked, but it was a bearable feeling she had learned to live with. It would continue to recede over the next few hours; it wasn’t like she was a long-time user, and it would leave permanent damage. Not yet, at least.
Softly singing, Cassiopeia passed through the drawing room, waving on the record player as she went and entered the kitchen. Turning on the stovetop, she filled a kettle and began sorting through the pile of Prophet papers that had stacked high in her absence. Most of it was rubbish, and had been since the last war, but it had decreased even further in quality in the past few years. The largest pile ended up in the fire before the kettle even went off, and Cassiopeia poured the water into her cup while reading a section arguing for the modernization of robes and wizarding fashion in general. It was dated three weeks prior, and if the author weren’t dead yet, they soon would be with the shifting political landscape.
She went through the rest of the stack, tossing a few more into the fire, before standing to stretch. The music died with a wave of her hand, and after placing her mug in the sink, Cassiopeia disapparited in a snap.
She burst through the Weasley wards with practiced ease, landing outside the kitchen door and entering quickly. Thankfully, her brother was right in the living room and responded when she called.
“Draco, I want to talk with you. Let’s take a walk.” Slowly, the siblings silently headed to the Weasley orchard, not talking until the trees somewhat obstructed the Burrow.
“I see you’ve developed a better means of anger management since moving out.”
“I’d much rather destroy without limits on my own property than taking it out on the Weasley household. No matter how much some of them deserve it at times.” Cassiopeia responded. When she had still lived at the manor, she developed a habit of purposely losing control of her magic after altercations with Lucius. After her fourth year, it was much easier for everyone if she and her Father avoided each other unless in formal settings.
“We never talked about the last few years, Cass.”
“I know. Overall there isn’t all that much to tell,” She waved Draco off when it appeared he was going to protest, “I have stories, of course, but it wasn’t anything overly spectacular, Draco, it was simply my life. Right after I left, me and Charlie popped off to Romania. I spent a few years on the dragon reserve full-time and then a few more just traveling and learning. Living. I studied magic so old books on it don’t even exist. I learned how to wield pure magic if needed and got better with my nonverbal and wandless magic. With Bill’s help I developed the device I used last night, I raided magical tombs and nearly got myself killed more times than I can count, and I will someday tell you all of my stories, all of the crazy adventures I was a part of, but for me Draco, it was just life.”
“When did you come back to Britain?” Draco asked with a scowl, not looking at his sister.
“About seven months ago.” She said softly. She had popped into the Weasley living room with Charlie just days after Hogwarts had returned to session. It had given her time to prepare her properties and reconnect with estranged family members, her aunt, and cousin in particular.
“So what, two letters and a portkey later, and you think I would reconnect with you like nothing ever happened?”
“Don’t think for a second I didn’t want to connect with you Draco. It would have been suicide for me to reveal where I was if I wrote to the manor, and I wasn’t sure what I’d be able to get through the Hogwarts wards. I think everything worked out fine considering the limitations and that you are standing here with me right now. If you don’t wish for anything to come from my scheming then I’m sure you would be free to stay here with the Weasley’s as needed.”
“Please, I think I’d end up cursing one of the wankers and then this would all be for nothing.” He scoffed.
“There’s the spirit. I still need to talk with Arthur about some things, but I think we’ll be okay. We can leave for one of my properties tonight if you wish.”
“I think I can manage a few more days, if you want some more time with Charlie. How long has that been going on anyway?” Cassiopeia’s heart softened. Even with all he had been through in the past twenty-four hours, he was still perceptive enough to recognize the gravitational pull between her and Charlie.
“Officially, a few years, only after I left, but I will admit, there were some… dalliances, while still at Hogwarts.” She blushed. Charlie and her had had a complicated relationship before being brought together by her godfather, of all people. Over time, it had evolved enough for her to be invited to the Burrow over the summer holidays and included in the family dynamic.
The siblings walked in comfortable silence, only pointing things out or asking light questions every few minutes, looping back to the Burrow after a good half hour. By the time they returned, the rest of the kids had piled back outside and were squabbling on the far side of the Burrow. When they finally reached the group, Ron was sporting a scowl alternating between Hermione and the Malfoy siblings.
“Up for a duel, love?” Charlie asked, coming up behind Cassiopeia and kissing her neck.
“I don’t know. Do you think you can handle me?” She teased, already drawing her wand and twirling it in her fingers.
“Oh, darling, you know I can. Although, I wouldn’t oppose you taking control if you want.” He shot her a cheeky wink, then yelped as he was struck by a weak stinging jinx.
The pair separated themselves from the younger children, knowing they could handle themselves and most likely didn’t need constant supervision. A single duel couldn’t hurt.
Cassiopeia drew the ward line, and Charlie backed up to put space between them. They both recognized the uselessness of proper dueling rules and regulations, so they adjusted to comfortable stances and waited for the other to cast the first spell. Cassiopeia threw a knockback jinx as Charlie cast a bombarda, spells narrowly missing one another and being blocked by the recipients. With the duel started, neither held anything back, flinging spells and curses around the enclosed area, blocking and dodging spells when they got too close.
Charlie shot a jet of paint from his wand, and Cassiopeia rolled, letting it splatter against the ward wall and slide down to reveal four on-lookers. Cassiopeia lunged, faking right only to roll forward to Charlie and cast a wordless Leviosa to fling him to the other end of the boundary.
“Damn woman, what was that for?”
“Just for fun.” She jeered, dodging the flaming whip that cracked in the air.
They continued the dance for a few more minutes, spells progressively getting darker and more advanced. Cassiopeia was casting nearly completely nonverbally, and Charlie was covered in a fine layer of sweat.
With an earth-buckling jinx, Cassiopeia was forced to drop and roll right into more spellfire, nearly getting hit. Winded, Cassiopeia hesitated enough for Charlie to tackle her physically, straddling her waist with her wrists held by her head.
“Give up yet, little witch?” He said, leaning in close to her face as if he was going to kiss her.
“Not quite.” She said.
Twisting her wrist, Cassiopeia grabbed a fistful of dust, forcing it into Charlie’s face before reversing their positions.
“Oh, what’s wrong, little wizard? Give up yet?” She said in the same mocking tone, wriggling slightly.
“Fuck, Cass, they’re right there.” Charlie groaned, eyes falling shut.
“Fine, you evil woman, you win.” He finally relented, and Cass released his wrists, only to be rolled under him again as he crashed their lips together.
Seconds later, he helped her up as if it never happened, forcing down the wards and approaching the younger group.
“Alright, who’s next?” She asked with a smirk.
Over the next two hours, the four younger teens all had a chance to practice with the untraceable wands. There was a slight fight intervention when Ron tried to curse Draco when his back was turned, but other than that, things ran smoothly, and Cassiopeia was impressed by Hermione and Draco’s skill sets. Potter and Ronald needed more practice, but they were still functional.
By the time Molly called them all in for supper, they were once again covered in dust but laughing and getting along fine. Shuffling into the house, they were all surprised to find Arthur home, already seated at the table and seemingly scolding the twins but giving them an admiring and proud smile once Molly’s back was turned. The table was filled to the brim with both bodies and food, Molly still on a cooking high with the new additions under her roof.
Once everyone was seated and Molly introduced the dishes, the serving platters and bowls were passed around, giving everyone a large helping of food and introducing a calming atmosphere. Draco visibly recoiled as the oysters passed by, causing Cassiopeia and the others to laugh; Cassiopeia never had liked them either growing up, but she could stomach them exactly one way she had sampled while in Rome.
When everyone was finished eating, Arthur charmed on the wireless, and the leftovers and dirty dishes floated to the kitchen as dessert took its place. Simple cookies, pudding, and tea were served, letting more chatter evolve in the group. By the time everything was finished, the night was glowing a pale purple, the earliest stars starting to poke through the dying light. Slowly, members of the family began to peel off for bed and other duties. Potter, Hermione, and Ronald, however, sat muttering at the table, shooting the occasional glance at other people still in the vicinity.
“Arthur, I need to talk to you about Draco,” Cassiopeia said, electing to ignore the trio for the time being.
“Certainly dear, come, come.” He led her into the drawing room, giving them slightly more privacy.
“I think Draco and I are going to move into one of my properties for the remainder of the summer. The wards here would eventually break with his presence.”
Arthur nodded in agreement.
“I had thought of that, of course, he would always be welcome to be added to the lines of course, but with the current set, they would eventually fail. Has he thought about school for the fall at all?”
“I don’t know, we didn’t talk about it, but it would come with limitations. He’d need to get all new supplies, which wouldn’t be an issue, but even with how Diagon’s been recently, I don’t want to chance it. If he doesn’t want to return, I can hire tutors to live in the house full time but that comes with its own issues currently. Whichever way he chooses, we have over a month until school starts, so we have plenty of time to prepare.” Cass answered.
“Molly and I will support you no matter how you both choose to navigate this. You’ve been so brave these past few years, Cassiopeia, you don’t have to pretend this all isn’t hard for you too.” He said.
“I know, Arthur, thank you.” The eldest Weasley stood and embraced the girl, giving her a final squeeze on her shoulder before ambling off to find his wife.
Cassiopeia retreated to the living room, where Charlie and Draco sat on the couch as the Gryffindor trio played Exploding Snap.
“Draco, do you want to head out tonight yet?” Cassiopeia asked, her hands sliding along the back of the couch until they reached Charlie’s shoulders. He hesitated, glancing to where her hands were caressing Charlie.
“Where are you going?” Harry asked, no, demanded.
“It’s really no concern of yours, Potter.” Draco drawled.
“Ron was right then, wasn’t he? You’re going back to Him.” He accused again, drawing his wand as he stood up, Ron and Hermione quick on his heels.
Draco stiffened, and Cassiopeia’s hands fell still.
“You have a lot of nerve, Harry. After everything you’ve seen and heard about the last two days-” Charlie began.
“Walk with me, Potter.” Cass said, turning on her heel and heading for the door before any confirmation of his compliance. She was halfway out the door before she heard Charlie hiss at the boy.
“Go on, get after her!”
They walked silently, Cassiopeia leading them on the same path she and Draco had taken earlier that afternoon.
“Do you know how many people I’ve killed, Harry?”
“I don’t know, quite a few, I’d reckon.” He said, shrugging.
“If you know the number, will it change how you see me? Will you still think I’m some kind of threat, or monster, just because I was a Slytherin and I am part of the Malfoy bloodline?”
Harry stayed silent, his aversion aired out finally.
“What if I told you Sirius identifiably killed twenty-three people?”
“He was cleared of those charges! It was all Pettigrew!” Harry exclaimed.
“I’m not talking about Halloween night. Sirius Black killed twenty-three people during the first war.” Cassiopeia said carefully.
“You have no right-”
“I have every right to talk about my family, Harry,” Cassiopeia glanced at the boy beside her, “He may have been your godfather, Harry, but he was my cousin first. He may have been an outcast of the Black family, but he was still family.” The stars were bright that night, sparkling high about their heads as they walked.
“So you reconnected with him then?”
“And my Aunt Andromeda, although I already knew her with Nymphadora only being a year behind Charlie and me at school.” Cassiopeia smiled; it had been a few months since she had seen that side of her family, perhaps a trip was in order with Draco being with her now.
“Why are you telling me this? I mean, it’s all rather pointless, isn’t it?” Harry said, pausing.
“It would depend on your definition of pointless, but no. I’m telling you this because Sirius and I weren’t all that different. You judge me because you’ve met my brother and father. You trusted Sirius enough after hearing his story and being shown evidence. Have my interactions with the Weasleys and Draco proved nothing about who I am as a person?”
Harry wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“I don’t know. I think I want to trust you. I certainly don’t trust your brother, but I think I’ve seen enough to know you won’t curse us all in our backs.” An improvement, indeed.
“Please, I’ve had plenty of opportunities in the past day alone to kill anyone of you, but that isn’t the type of person I am, Harry. I lived through just enough of the last war to know that there are indeed some people like that, but I am not one of them. When I kill, I make sure they see my face, it’s a terrible thing to cross me, and I want them to know it was me, it was the little renegade Malfoy that cut them down.” Cassiopeia spoke with an air of confidence, one that illuded the idea that she knew exactly what she was speaking of.
“What was it like, the last war?” Harry asked, caution marring his face.
“Terrible, I was only seven when it ended, so it’s not always the clearest, but I remember the screaming. I remember the smoke that would drift over the countryside for days and the sound of Nagini transforming when the Dark Lord first found her. I remember how Diagon Ally was deserted after the Leaky was targeted the second time.” Cassiopeia paused, unsure if she should tell Harry the next bit.
“I remember seeing your mother once.”
The boy paused, his face filtering through emotions quickly.
“I’m sorry, Harry, I shouldn’t have said anything, it was out of place,-”
“How, how did you meet her?” He asked, hesitant or perhaps scared.
“She had apparated onto a landing stone as my mother and I were returning from Diagon Alley. No one even spoke a word, but when she saw who it was, she disapparated again. I remember she had the most gorgeous red hair, redder than any of the Weasleys by far. I changed my hair to match for days afterward. It was the only time Lucius ever beat me for morphing.”
“What about her eyes?”
Cassiopeia shot him a puzzled glance. She knew everyone, everyone always commented that Harry looked exactly like his father, other than his eyes, which were Lily’s emerald green.
“I never noticed them. I had found her hair and portance more captivating.”
And it was true. Lily Potter nee Evens had carried herself like the most prestigious of purebloods but had eluded a calming and friendly disposition with her simple act of existing.
“Everyone has always told me that my mother’s most striking feature had been her eyes, my eyes.” Harry said softly. Cassiopeia suspected he would store away this tidbit of his mother like a dragon to gold.
“It wasn’t. From just seeing her, it was her determination. Sirius said much the same when regaling me with tales. She didn’t care about people being other, social oddities, if you will. She was a woman who was stronger in so many ways, she surprised until the end. It was both her saving grace and her downfall.” Silence took over when she was done speaking, and she thought Harry may not have talked until they were back at the Burrow, but he surprised her a few minutes later.
“Are you trying to surmise that you would do anything for your brother the way my mother did everything for me?” He asked.
She hesitated before answering. It hadn’t been the exact point she was trying to make; his phrasing made her out to be Draco’s martyr, but he was correct in some way.
“Somewhat, Harry. I care for Draco in a different way than your mother cared for you obviously, but I would die for him if needed. I have killed to protect those I care about. We are approaching a pivotal point, Harry. When the time comes you will respect having seasoned folk like myself fighting against the Dark Lord, and I will kill to protect the ones I love. We all will. And I will not let schoolyard bigotry influence who ends up dead at the end of it all, my brother least of all.”
Something twinged in the midground of Cassiopeia’s mind, a subtle twitch of warning. Harry started to speak, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand, shooting out small orbs of light that danced before blazing off through the orchard. Her hand found her wand, and once Harry noticed, he also drew his, no, one of her practice wands. She would scold him for that later.
With an audible pop and a grimace from Cassiopeia, something, someone entered the wards.
Cassiopeia could just make out a black cloud barreling towards them, and for a horrible second thought it was you-know-who, but it, they, were repelled with a strong protecto. Bouncing off her shield, they tore through the orchard, seeking out and killing each of the lights she had sent out. Circling back, it solidified before the pair.
Bellatrix Lestrange cackled as her skirts swirled about, dark energy rolling off of her almost as easily as plain crazy did.
“Hello Aunt Bella.” Cass greeted cooly, dampening her emotions.
“Well, look here, it’s my little niece, not so little anymore are we? And look! You’ve brought me Potter like a good little thing. The Dark Lord will still surely reward you, my pretty.” Bellatrix raved, her hair wild and movements crazed.
“You’re delusional, Aunt Bella, I have never, and will never, take rewards from the Dark Lord like a dog. Like you.”
Bellatrix let out a deranged yell.
“He has promised us everything! Everything we ever desire, and you throw it back at him for a blood traitor! Disgrace! Disgrace to the Malfoy name! Disgrace to the Black family tree! No better than Sirius Black!”
Harry’s spell was canceled before it even passed Cass’s territory.
“Do me one favor, Aunt Bella. Shut up. Bombarda! Confingo! Flipendo!”
Cass and Bellatrix began casting spells, each looking to incapacitate the other while doing two jobs: Bellatrix trying to defend and retaliate against both Cassiopeia and Harry, and Cassiopeia trying to keep Harry safe (relatively) while battling Bellatrix.
“Impedimenta! Obscuro!”
“Nebulus! Crucio!”
“Protecto Diabolica! Stuperfy!”
“Sectumsempra!”
“Where in the seven bloody hells did you learn that Potter?” Cass yelled over the sounds of spellfire. She had been using all different types of magic but had been gaining no ground. Her hands were starting to buzz uncomfortably, but Bellatrix was aiming to kill, or at least seriously incapacitate, and so was she.
Harry shouted something back, but his answer was lost in a blast of earth exploding in front of them.
“You need to get out of here, Harry! I can handle her enough.” Harry looked as if he was going to protest, typical Gryffindor, but he began sprinting back towards the Burrow when she glared, and Bellatrix cackled through the fog. Once he was far enough away, she began her next barrage of spellfire, laying it on thick before canceling all the spells in the area with an overpowered finite incantatum.
“I see you’ve improved, little niece. A little more bloodthirsty than the last time we met.”
“Considering the last time we saw each other, I was seven, most certainly you daft bint.”
“Well then, let’s see how much dear baby Draco has improved then? The Dark Lord will be grateful for me to tire him out enough, lest he put up any fight.”
“I think the fuck not, bitch.” Bellatrix cackled in response to Cassiopeia, spinning to take flight, dissolving in a million dust particles.
“Carpe Retractum!” A rope shot from Cass’s wand, connecting with the darting and writhing mass of Bellatrix. The rope took hold, but Bellatrix’s momentum had been too much, and Cassiopeia’s feet left the ground shortly before the women landed in a tangled heap about fifteen yards from where they had been.
More spells were fired at close range, and Bellatrix flashed a knife, Cassiopeia jumping back and firing off an incendio before she could get cut. Briefly, she wondered where Harry had gotten to as no one had come to help her, but no one else had come through the wards other than Bellatrix, so he hadn’t been apprehended.
With a silent twist of Bellatrix’s wand, Cassiopeia’s feet were swept out from under her, and she landed heavily on her hip. Her aunt cackled once more, descending on her like a dark shadow, knife raised high, ready for the kill. Cassiopeia kicked, swiping Bellatrix’s legs out, and they fell into a tumble again. They both flailed for the knife, Cassiopeia earning little knicks on her hands but still coming up empty-handed.
Bellatrix was not a statuary-gifted woman by any means, but she still pinned her niece with relative ease, and none of the teasing Cassiopeia had shared with Charlie earlier in the day. She hovered the knife threateningly across Cassiopeia’s throat, spittle flying as she laughed, thinking she had won.
“It’s a shame it comes down to this, Cassiopeia. With the proper lessons, you could have been a great woman. It’s a great honor to kneel at our Lord’s feet.” Bellatrix hissed her and Cassiopeia’s faces inches from each other.
“Here’s a lesson for you, Aunt Bella,” Cassiopeia said, twisting around in her aunt’s hold, “It’s one you could never teach me. Don’t overestimate yourself in battle.”
With that, Cassiopeia drove her own knife up through Bellatrix’s torso. The woman above her gasped, dropping her knife in the abruptness of it and fumbling for the weapon in her own body. Cassiopeia pulled back, knife still in hand, before Bellatrix could touch her and moved out of her aunt’s reach.
“You’ve killed me, you blood traitor! You’ve killed me!” She screeched, grasping at the wound.
“Not quite,” Cassiopeia leveled her wand at Bellatrix, “Incendio.”
The noise increased tenfold as the spell met its target, Bellatrix too distraught by her wound to even attempt a counter curse, and she collapsed, flames quickly consuming her until her corpse lay still, charred beyond recognition.
When the screaming stopped, and the body still burned, Cassiopeia turned away from the area, adrenaline fading and shoulders slumping. Her eyesight blurred, and she swayed when she tried to move toward the Burrow. Her hands were black with dark energy and red from Bellatrix’s blood; her hair hung limp, faded back to blonde with exertion and exhaustion.
Disapparating would be about the stupidest thing she could do at that moment, but it was going to be the only way she made it back to the Burrow. Weakly, she focused on the kitchen step of the house and forced herself to magically appear there.
Harry Potter could have been having a better night. Typically, his nights didn’t involve having a chat with his enemy’s older sibling, talking about his dead mother of all things, and then having a homicidal maniac, who was both responsible for his godfather’s death and said enemy’s aunt, pop in for a chance to kill him and reclaim stray family members.
He had tried to help, only earning a glare and a retreat notice before being thoroughly ignored, at which he made a tactical retreat for backup. However, in his retreat, he had been struck with a tongue-tying jinx of all things. By the time he had returned to the Burrow, he was slobbering all over and utterly incapable of enunciating his message.
Molly and Arthur had come to his aid, trying to administer the counter-curse, then berating George and Fred, thinking it had been their fault. When everyone (Charlie) finally realized that Cassiopeia had not returned with Harry, a search party (Charlie) was sent out. It took three tries and an examination from Hermione before he could talk again. Malfoy, of course, was no help whatsoever and had tried to hide his snickering behind the book he was reading the whole time.
When Harry was finally able to communicate normally again, he took great gasping breaths before saying, “Bellatrix, Bellatrix is here. They’re in the orchard dueling, she needs help!”
Malfoy, no, Draco, stood his attention now, obviously on the action. He maneuvered as if to make his way to his sister but was stopped by the Weasley matriarch.
“Oh, no you don’t, boy.” She said, grabbing onto his shoulder.
“My bloody sister is out there, fighting our deranged aunt alone. She’s only here because I am! I’m going to help her!”
“Draco,” Arthur began lightly, “Cassiopeia is a formidable witch. I know you want to help your sister, but if Bellatrix is indeed here for you, this is the safest place for you to stay. That goes for all of you children, none of you are going anywhere until we know what is happening.”
A silence fell over the Burrow, seconds ticking by with no word from Charlie or Cassiopeia and no attack from Bellatrix. A few of those gathered around the table thought they vaguely heard the sound of flames roaring in the distance, but the moments fleeted before verbalization. Arthur had opened his mouth to speak when a loud pop startled them all.
There, on the doorstep, Cassiopeia stood, leaning heavily against the doorframe. She held her blood-soaked hands up before her and said a single word before passing out.
“Six.”
The Malfoy siblings ended up staying one more day after that. And then one more after that.
Cassiopeia had very nearly killed herself dueling her Aunt and was still hardly in any shape capable of disappearing. She had tried to protest that they needed to leave immediately when she woke for the first time, but the wards had already been strengthened by the eldest Weasleys and, in addition, Draco, protecting them for the immediate future.
It was still only the second night after Bellatrix’s death that the siblings and Charlie popped into existence in the foyer of a small cottage along the coast, just outside Ayr. It was a separate house from where she had disappeared to after her confirmation with Ron. After sending Draco off to explore, she shared a light goodbye to Charlie.
The wards would hold against anyone, other than a full-out attack, as long as non-permanent guests did not overstay their welcome, roughly four hours. She would still see him plenty, of course, but she was still slightly weaker than she would like herself to be and greatly desired some rest.
This is where Cassiopeia and Draco would reciprocate from their family. This is where they would explode cauldrons going over sixth-year potions as Draco elected to stay out of Hogwarts for his sixth year. This is where they would back Christmas cookies to take over to the Burrow and then later burn a yule log in accordance with family tradition.
This is where they would start to heal; to be brother and sister once more.
And on that day, it would be where they disapparated from to land in the Hogshead Tavern.
On that day, she would be out for blood.
When she would see her godfather standing in the Great Hall, masquerading as a great man, she would bring him to his knees, punching through his occlumency shields.
She would project that night into his head, the night of Draco’s almost marking, which he had shared with her, and the night she was nearly killed by Bellatrix but was the killer instead.
There would be no mercy for him.
There would be no mercy for any of them.
Cassiopeia’s soul may have been black, as her blood implied.
It may have been more damaged than Voldemort’s himself.
But Draco’s wasn’t, wouldn’t be, not while she still stood in front of him.