Memories…hope you all like this
Felix hugs me and kisses my neck. I know he smells the peony and jasmine perfume I sprayed there, and I wonder how much longer he is going to be distracted. I know he's going to ask me the questions, questions about my parents. He has been curious about them long enough. Even though I don't want to talk about them, my fiancée should know. He whispers my name. Cassandra. He asks me. So, I tell him.
My mother had had children before, but she hated Rodolphus. Every time she realized that she was pregnant, she silently pointed her wand at her stomach and whispered Crucio. I wonder how she could have hurt herself so much just to make sure that Rodolphus had no child. But when she was in Azkaban, she became pregnant, and there was no way to abort the child. I don't know if Roddy was really my dad, because mum hated him so much, from what I've heard. Regardless, I knew Felix was bound to ask about my parents sometime. So I told him.
''I never met my father, and couldn't care less. I've never even seen a picture of him. It's my mother's memory that hurts me. ''
In Azkaban, members of the ministry came to take me away just after I was born. My mother slipped a silvery strand from her head and into a dirty glass bottle. She handed it to one of the aurors collecting me from her, and handed it to him. A memory of my birth for me. So I would maybe know my mother, Bellatrix. She only said one thing.
''Don't tell Rodolphus.''
…
The second memory of my mother I have was when I was eight. I was in the orphanage where I lived, the same one where the famous Tom Riddle had spent his miserable summers. But I didn't know that then. Bellatrix apparated into my room. She looked shocked, and smiled. She asked me if I could do magic. That's the first thing she said to me. No words of love, just a question to see if I was worth seeing. Is she a pureblood witch or not? I had been taught about the magic world by Astoria, a pureblood witch who had also been orphaned. She told me that I wasn't different. That was the best day of my life. To know that what the doctors said were all lies…that I was gifted, not restrained.
So I showed my mother what I could do. It was all I knew, but she just looked me like she never wanted me to happen. She kissed me on the head. She smelled like Peonies and Jasmine. And she slipped a bottle, full of memories into my hand and whispered,
''For you, to remember me.''
I wanted to see my daughter. I wouldn't spend too much time with her, just a few minutes. Just to see where she is.
I apparated into the room, and there she was, lying on the bed pulling the wings off of butterflies and putting them into a box.
She turned around and looked at me. I sucked in my hollow cheeks. She had the same, dark, lustrous hair I had had when I was young, and the pale alabaster skin. She had the same dark kind of beauty as me. Her slightly tilted eyes blinked at me, and I pulled my lips into a smile.
I told her who I was, her mother. I asked if she knew about…well, her magical side. She rolled her eyes and whispered accio. A wand flew out of a trunk. She flicked it, and showed me some basic things. She told me she had been practicing. She was only eight! I felt something close to pride, but reminded myself that she was the child I never wanted from Rodolphus. She was never mine. I turned to leave, but before I dissaparate, I kissed her head and slipped a cool glass jar into her palm.
'' For you, to remember me. ''
I planned on never coming back. But I was wrong.
…
Felix seems to feel bad for me. ''I'm so sorry Cassandra, I never-
''I know. Let me finish.''
…
The last memory I have of my mother was when she visited me for the last time. When I saw her, I couldn't believe it. She seemed elated, and I knew she was visiting me because she had managed to please the Dark Lord. She strided in. She was 47 and I was 13. This was one year before she died. I looked at her, seeing her for the second time in my life. And from the memories she had given me, I knew what would impress her. I had a little boy from the orphanage stuck in a corner. His eyes popped at seeing a woman appear out of midair.
I caught my mother's glance.
''Watch me.''
I turned to the boy, wand at the ready, and whispered Crucio. With practice, I had gotten better and better at torturing the orphans. At times, Astoria helped me practice for my mother on them. My mother eyes glowed with pride when I caused the boy pain. I knew she was proud of me.
My Lord, my love, is pleased with me. I have done his bidding well. As a reward, he has permitted me to visit my daughter. He and I have guarded the secret of Cassandra's existence from Rodolphus. H e must never know.
When she showed me how well she could do the cruciatus curse, I glowed. My own daughter is taking after me. In a world filled with me and Voldemort, and Roddy is gone, I could make room for her. She is my pureblood, dark, daughter. I smile.
''I am so proud of you. ''
She beams. I have touched something. I scowl at once. I am not supposed to be this soft. I come from the noble and most ancient house of Black. I turn on my heel, but before I leave, I remember part of why I came. She has been at school for a few years now, but not Hogwarts. I turn and say harshly;
''Happy Birthday.''
And I walk over to her and pull out my wand. Automatically she produces her arm. I touch it and whisper
''memenbro citactus.''
A small skull appears on her arm. It is blood red at first, but darkens until it is as inky as the midwinter night sky. She knows what it is. I tell her to use it only when she needs it most. And I disappear.
I can contact her now, summon her and talk to her. I am 13 years old and I have an only a handful of memories of my mother, and have met her twice. But still, I feel a deep connection to this complete stranger. I torture the boy until I get bored, wipe his memory, and go find more butterflies. I'm always looking for new additions to my collection.
…
The last memory I have of my mother is the worst. The workers at the orphanage had seen me hurting a little girl and her brother. They had thrown me out. I was 14. I walked the streets, with my bat shaped backpack, stolen Halloween candy, pumpkin pasties, and a tee shirt from Felix at school. I was just beginning to feel feelings other that anger, confusion, hate, and misunderstanding when I thought about Felix. I had no idea about what else to do, so I walked into a small alley and pressed my index finger to the skull on my forearm.
I HAD HARRY POTTER. HE WAS AT NARCISSAS HOUSE. And this girl…this WORTHLESS girl, had takEN her away. Her lord, her love, would be furious. He might never take her back…she hated such a horrible thought. She probably had also missed her aim with the little silver dagger. She had been aiming for Harrys heart. At least I got the house elf, Bellatrix thought.
She appeared at once, looking, nothing less than furious. She hissed at me. Called me a filthy girl. She was clutching her fist. She told me she had to get back to her sister. And she grabbed me roughly and I was kissed on my head full of dark ringlets for the second time by a mother.
She turned and hissed
''I never wanted you as a daughter.''
And she was gone. That was the last time I ever saw my mother.
…