Cassie's having a bit of a crisis here and not a fun 'lady crisis' but more one of the soul. At this point she is not some sociopathic, psychotic killing machine like my darling Alice and she still struggles with her humanity as well as with how the world sees her. Needless to say slaughtering sixteen people, even if they were Death Eaters, isn't exactly going to help with that.
As before if you have ideas, suggestions or want to see something happen then put it in a review or give me a PM. As you have seen in Silent World I am more than happy to adapt it as we go if I find something that you've suggested helpful, useful or just plain amusing.
I still don't own Harry Potter otherwise I'd be writing all day instead of working to pay the bills.
Dylan the Rabbit. xx
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Season of The Witch.
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4. Home is Where the Heart is.
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The Blacks were gathering their people. News of the attack on the Delacours had thrown the Noble and Most Ancient family into frenzied action. While Amelia was in France expediting the swift release of the three young witches Sirius was back at the Black's ancestral home and had taken over directing the retrieval of the family and their allies to safety. Just in case this Death Eater attack wasn't an isolated incident none of 'theirs' were going to be left alone or unprotected and so the fireplace at Grimmuald Place had been working overtime. The old house was practically bursting at the seams with even Snape and two of the Malfoys in temporary residence. Lucius was nowhere to be found and it wasn't much of an intuitive leap that placed him at Delacour Villa with his 'friends' although this wouldn't be confirmed until late the next day.
It was an eclectic mix of people who would not usually been seen together but since most of them had been at the wedding a few days previously they all seemed to accept each others presence without question or comment. There was also the fact that they were in the home of the increasingly powerful Blacks and nobody started trouble under their roof who didn't have a serious death wish. Sirius or Remus might prank them nastilly and painfully, Amelia might threaten them with prison but with their fondness for extreme violence it was the younger generation that they were really afraid of. Azkaban would be considered a soft option compared to what Cassandra and her fellow Psycho Freaks would probably do to them if they got out of line.
Everyone was sat up in the kitchen waiting for them when Amelia flooed back into Twelve Grimmuald Place with the three younger witches in tow later that night. They had wanted to wait right in the sitting room but Sirius had vetoed that idea immediately, having been warned by his wife that Fleur may be rather emotionally delicate and that they all looked a bit of a state.
The new Lord and Lady Black had managed three days of their honeymoon before he and Amy had been called back to London by a frightened Susan Bones earlier that night. She had apologised to both of them profusely but once they had heard the reason for the panicked fire-call all negative responses had died on their lips. Sirius didn't care about his and Amy's time away being interrupted or that this was their first proper holiday in over a decade. His only concern was that little Nymphie and his beautiful, precious daughter were safe and in one piece.
So it was that Lord Black was the only one to be there to greet them when his family and Fleur stepped from the fireplace and into the warm, welcoming atmosphere of Twelve Grimmuald Place. He embraced his young cousin and her poor shell-shocked looking, blonde girlfriend, attempting to convey a sense of safety and security to the shaking veela before stepping back to look carefully at his daughter and primary heiress Cassie. Amy was right, she did look a bit of a state. It wasn't that she was covered in blood that did it, he'd seen that too many times to be worried by it, but more the fact that she was holding tightly, almost grimly, on to his wife's hand as well as something indefineable in her oddly dull and lustreless green eyes.
She didn't just look tired or upset. She looked broken.
Sirius smiled at her and tried not to show his concern on his face as he stroked her hair.
"Are you going to be alright with Amelia for a little bit?" Her total lack of expression as she gave the smallest of nods was worrying. "I'm just going to get these two settled with your Aunt Andromeda and Gabrielle then I'll be back and we can ... talk."
Cassie watched him go, an arm around each of the witches tucked into his sides and enjoying his surprisingly calming presence (who would have thought that her annoying git of a father could actually be sympathetic and calming) before finally releasing her step-mum's hand.
Sorry to drag you away from your honeymoon.
"That's alright love, I can't remember the last time I got a whole week off and if it wasn't this, trust me, it would have been some other 'emergency' at work." She smiled at her new daughter who seemed to be wrestling with some great internal, ethical question.
I'm sorry.
"Sorry for what darling?"
I'm sorry for disappointing you with all that business with the heads mum.
Mum.
It was the first time that the word had been used by her step daughter in relation to her and it was a very special moment for the usually stern and stoic older woman. Amelia took Cassie's head in her hands and tilted her head up so that their eyes met.
"How could I possibly be disappointed in you Cass. You acted with speed and efficency to keep your friends and your family safe and I have no doubt that those animals deserved everything that you did to them." She smiled again. "And actually the thing with the heads was very useful for identifying them, just ... try not to make a habit of it will you love, it does make people rather nervous of you. Well more nervous than they already are anyway."
The half naked, blood drenched teenager was suddenly in her arms and she felt the moisture spreading across her chest as Cassie buried her face in her robes. It was truly amazing to Amelia Black how fast her step daughter could swing from dangerously violent and murderous to weepy and emotional in the blink of an eye. This, more than anything, made her believe that the girl was not actually the terrible and terrifying monster that sometimes made an appearance from beneath her usually sweet exterior. Oh it was a part of her, there was no doubting that, but it was more like something that she accessed and made use of when necessary rather than what defined and motivated her. Stroking the long, smooth, raven hair while she clasped the tired young woman tightly to her Amelia led her upstairs, through the Head's suite and into the attached bathroom.
She had drawn a bath and coaxed the unresisting girl into the water before trying to leave and fetch Susan. Her arm was jerked back as Cassie's hand tightened and held her fast. Turning back with a half concerned, half amused expression on her face Amelia drew her wand to send off a patronus downstairs to summon her daughter's girlfriend and sisters instead before sitting back down by the bath to wait for the stampede. If her little Cass wanted her here then here she would stay. For as long as she was needed or wanted.
"Alright love, I'm not going anywhere."
She knew her limitations though and she knew who Cassie needed more than anyone else at the moment. Her weird little collection of waifs and strays that she had forged into a tight knit group of proud, powerful young women that had become family to them all. And right on cue she heard them coming. There came an insanely loud stomping from the stairs that sounded like a herd of elephants and her red headed niece appeared in the bathroom with a relieved smile on her face. With no embarrassment at all Susan Bones had shrugged out of her own clothes and climbed into the bath to scoop her girlfriend up in her arms.
Deciding to leave them to it Amelia was about to depart when seven other witches popped their heads around the doorframe and at Susan's beckoning gesture they hesitantly entered. It was certainly a sight to behold she thought as the girls surrounded the bath silently and began to wash the blood from Cassie's hair and body while Susan continued to hold her. The stroking ministrations and whispered reassurances continued to calm and soothe the still troubled Black heiress until she seemed to be in a soporific stupor at which point she was carefully lifted, dried and taken to her bed.
They laid her gently under the covers positioning her back into the tender embrace of her lover and each one of them laid a kiss on her forehead before retreating from the suite. Amelia followed their example and was rewarded with a bleary eyed kiss on the cheek for her efforts from the girl who was now, more than ever, her daughter and a 'thanks Aunt Amy' from Susan. Her smile didn't fade for the rest of the night.
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The following morning, freshly scrubbed and in fresh, clean and, in Fleur and Tonks' case, borrowed robes they and Cassie trotted along behind Amelia as they exited the lift and crossed the entrance hall towards the check in desk of the Ministry of Magic. The stern, older woman tried not to smile at the small, resigned huff that came from behind her when they saw Cornelius Fudge waiting for them in his terrible green hat with a big, cheesy smile on his face.
The last time that Cassie had been in the loathsome Minister for Magic's company in this building she had just barely restrained herself from kidney punching the idiot and that was only because her sex life had been threatened if she didn't behave. Amelia was not overly confident that this time was going to go any better but she had used her new found status as 'mum' to extract a promise of patience and tolerance for those less fortunate than her from Cass. And she was going to need that today as standing next to Cornelius with that smug, supercilious smile on her face and wrapped in a foul pink cardigan, taking notes was the horrid toad woman. Delores Umbridge.
Fudge seemed to be falling over himself to make an introduction and when the ridiculous man finally got through all of his flowery and overblown praise for her they understood why.
"Delores here is going to be your new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor next year." Fudge winked conspiratorially at her. "It's a bit of a secret but I'm sure that you can be trusted Miss Evans-Black."
The bouncing Fudge was beaming at them as though he had just made the most brilliant joke ever and Cassie just about managed a less than enthusiastic, tight smile at the nudged prompt from Amelia. Then the nasal whine of her new professor cut in and even that small concession to good manners disappeared in a hurry.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Evans-Black. I look forward to our lessons next term very much indeed." She gave a smile that looked more like she was suffering from an attack Dehli belly than anything else and continued. "I will also be over seeing a review of the educational standards at Hogwarts, as many important people feel that they have been slipping lately and something needs to be done about it. I understand that you have had your own issues with the headmaster."
Cassie's only thought as she stared at her was ... Fuck she's ugly. I mean she played the respectful, pureblood politics game very well but ... Fuck she was ugly. Also there was something very mean about her piggy little eyes and thin, colourless lips that Cassie didn't trust in the slightest. All in all the Black heiress thought that she was a particularly unlikeable woman and that the two of them may end up having ... issues of their own before long. Not that that would prevent her from cheering the ugly bint on and possibly even helping out a bit if she made good on her promise to shove a big, bureaucratic stick up Dumbledork's arse.
At last a real smile made its way on to her face as she thought of the old fool squirming in front of Ministry regulators and the Board of Governors as his semi-competent manipulations of the staff and students were dragged screaming into the light of day. Not that she really thought that they would be but she could dream.
Delores Umbridge seemed to take Cassie's wide, dreamy smile as an indication that she had impressed the powerful and influential Black heiress with her statement of intending to have at Dumbledore with her own brand of petty vengence. She didn't like the headmaster one bit and had pushed and bullied the Minister into giving her this position, once the decision had been made to conduct this review, so that she could take the arrogant old man down a few pegs. If it got her on the good side of a Noble and Most Ancient family into the bargain, well that was just a bonus really. Giving the Blacks another of her sickly smiles the pink toad flounced off to continue her preparation for the new school year.
Once this clearly stage managed interlude was over Fudge led the group of witches over to the lifts and on down to the basement and the Department of Mysteries. It had been decided to hold the interviews with the participants of the Delacour Villa incident in this dark and overlooked part of the Ministry in order to keep the details from inquisitive ears and prying eyes. Luckily the French had agreed to this without argument, being somewhat keen to keep the operational details quiet as well, but also without the hope that they would avoid being overheard entirely. The British press were notoriously sneaky when they smelled a good story.
They all sat around the large table, French and British aurors and offiials and of course the three witches at the centre of the affair. Amelia had read out Gabrielle's dictated statement as she had considered that the girl was far too delicate to be interrogated and nobody had dared to disagree with her. Tonks had given her account with the same unemotional monotone in which she delivered all of her work reports and then the beautiful but battered Fleur had started to talk. Her quiet, lyrically soft voice held the entire room captivated as she described her father's last words to her and Gabby and the two girls' race to the sitting room fireplace. At this point she diverged from her sister's story and went off on an entirely fictional journey through the beast Greyback's chase and assault of her before rejoining the more factual accounts at Tonks and Cassie's entrance.
There was silence from the hopelessly entranced group as Fleur wept out her false tears of sorrow for her murdered parents and her gratiude for her rescue and for her two avenging angels. And then it was Cassie's turn. Since she couldn't speak and the authorities didn't want to trust such an important interview to translation that would have to, by necessity, be provided by one of her own family, she had agreed to have her memories of the night viewed through a pensieve. It was another reason why there were down here in the bowells of the Ministry as the only one large enough to accomodate them all was in the Department of Mysteries. The huge basin was positioned and filled and Amelia herself gently and delicately extracted that part of her step daughter's memory before placing it into the bowl for viewing.
The Black family had agreed upon the extent of what to share that morning as they had prepared for this meeting with Sirius and Amelia both advocating caution while Cassie herself had pushed for full disclosure. The emerald eyed girl knew what monster lurked within her and she had a gnawing dread of what others would think of her when they saw it let loose. It was a constant niggle in the back of her mind now. She was a herione and a role model to young (and not so young) witches all over the country since the Tri-Wizard Tournament and as such she had a responsibility to those who looked up to her. Running around in a violent rage and dismembering people without thought or consequence was not what she wanted to be remembered for. She wanted to be loved not feared. Well not all the time anyway, a little fear was a useful thing after all.
As the boggart had shown her Cassie's greatest and most constant fear was that her control would slip and that the monster would take her over completely. It was brought sharply into focus after last night when at the sight of the badly abused body of Fleur and Gabby's mother she had totally and utterly lost that control. The beast had got out and she had revelled in the feeling of power that it gave her. Now, however, as she watched it again, it had her thinking hard about whether or not the beast, that wild eyed, scythe wielding, elemental monster was all that she was. Her enjoyment of the slaughter was obvious and it was beginning to disturb her. Cassie watched grimly as her memory self laughed while she burned down everything around her and decapitated people for fun. She looked like a psychopath.
Most of the people in the dark, underground room looked a bit sick as they watched the memory of Cassie's bloody massacre playing out before them with only a few noteable exceptions. Amelia Black was cooly and professionally assessing her step daughter's performance with a view to steering her towards a possible career in law enforcement at a later date. Fleur, while trying to school her features into a kind of fierce and vengeful interest, was having a huge amount of fun seeing her former minions being sliced and diced by the smirking black haired teen across the table from her. It was Saul Croaker, however, who was the only one actually laughing and cheering 'memory Cassie' on as she bent the dark and dreaded fiendfyre to her will.
The Head of the Department of Mysteries wasn't even supposed to be here, but since this was his territory he had been pernitted to stay for the 'show'. This was a decision that both the French and British contingents were starting to regret as he shouted 'bravo' and began to applaud loudly as the fire whip viciously and spectacularly beheaded that nasty bastard Antonin Dolohov.
Once the business of identifying the Death Eaters, which unfortunately for everyone present was only achievable by watching through the memory of Cassie's eyes as she took her grisly trophies from the dead, was over there was little left to discuss. They all agreed that there would be no charges laid against Cassie for her excessive but entirely justified reaction to the attack on her friends either here or in France and with regrets and offers of support offered to Miss Delacour the officials took their leave. Head unspeakable Croaker, however, had something to ask Cassie so the Black party remained behind for a few minutes.
"So Miss Evans-Black are you ready to arrange a date for a longer visit yet."
For the first time since she had entered the underground Ministry department Cassie offered up a genuine smile of pleasure.
Ooh, Tonks tell him tomorrow. I'll come back tommorrow.
Her sceptical cousin gave the peculiar man the good news and shuddered at the thought of what kind of apoclypse the two of them could cause if left to their own devices in the strangest and often times most dangerous government department.
Tell him I'll be bringing a translator.
"Who are you bringing?" Tonks' eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Luna of course. She'll love it down here.
"Oh fuck me."
Croaker was in paroxysms of joy as he watched the one sided conversation between the cousins with great interest and enjoyment. The clearly muggle way of communicating that the Black heiress used and he had first seen in the Spring when she had visited was absolutely fascinating. He really wanted to know how she did it but for now he had more important things to discuss and for the moment at least that meant giving her questions that only required yes or no answers. He got her attention with a little tug on her robes.
"It was difficult for you watching those memories back today wasn't it?"
Yes.
"I understand. Confronting one's true nature can be quite over-whelming at the best of times but to do so in a room full of strangers, well, I don't envy you." Her small nod encouraged him. "We can talk about that tommorrow if you'd like."
Yes.
He saw her become distracted by something and cock her had to one side, swaying slightly and realised that she was sensing the ambient magic that leaked into this, the central room of his department. It was almost as if something was calling to her. As her eyes flicked around and then landed on a particular door at the end of one of the long, dark corridors he thought that he might just know what that something was.
"Oh by the way that pull that you're feeling, that's one of the magics in this place calling out to you. I am right, you do feel it don't you?"
Yes.
A tilt of the head and a small but firm nod from the girl as she carefully signed out to the closely watching man.
"The only part that confuses me is why she feels it too."
Following his eye line Cassie raised her eyebrows and very cautiously and discretely pointed over to the distracted looking veela flirting half heartedly with her cousin.
"Yes her."
The now serious raven haired girl pionted to herself, then Croaker and tapped the side of her head thoughtfully.
"Yes we should definitely think about that when we meet. Until tomorrow then Miss Evans-Black." He paused. "Oh and do bring that entertaining familiar of yours, it's a long time since I got to see a parselmouth in action."
Cassie nodded at the peculiar man and turned away to find her step mum, thinking over what he had said. That feeling that she had got near Fleur at the villa last night sprang to her mind and she began to wonder at what this connection was between her and the veela. Whether it was something to do with the dark magic that she had used recognising something equally dark inside of Fleur or whether it was something else entirely Cassie didn't yet know but she was becoming very determined to find out. She needed to know why they had this connection and what it meant for her cousin who was so hopelessly in love with the tragic, beautiful French veela girl.
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Cassie's mood after the day's show and tell session at the Ministry of Magic was disturbing for the Psycho Freak girls and Gabby so they had arranged a House meeting in the head's suite at Grimmuald Place to try and help the situation. She was aware of their concern and she loved them all for it but she wasn't sure if they were ready for this yet. Ready to find out just how out of hand she had gotten the previous night in France. Ready to see the monster.
They were, as usual though, nothing if not determined and gradually the other girls coaxed the details of her bloody rampage out of her. She answered their questions, she told them all of it and she held nothing back. The monster was laid bare before them and her friends, her family did not disappoint with their reaction. There was nothing but love and understanding from them and yet Cassie still felt compelled to ask the question that had been plaguing her thoughts since she had returned to England.
Do you think that I'm a psychopath?
Although everyone was thinking the same thing, somewhat surprisingly it was Gabby who was the first to respond, crawling into Cassie's lap and hugging her tightly.
"Non. You saved me. You saved my sister. You avenged my ... my parents." The little blonde sniffed back her tears and burrowed deeper into Cassie's embrace. "I don't care that you killed them. I'm glad that you killed them." She looked wetly into the emerald eyes of her saviour. "You are not a psychopath ... you are a heroine. You are my herione and I am never going to let you forget that."
"I'm with little Gabby. Any one of us here would have done the same if we could have ... well okay maybe not the weird head thing but killing those murdering, rapist fucking Death Eaters?" The ginger girl let out a low, fierce growl. "Definitely."
One by one they gave Cassie their assurances of their continuing love and loyalty, of their pride in their often scary but always sweet and protective leader. They loved her and they always would. Every one of them felt it and every one of them let her know it, some with humour, some with tears, but all with complete adoration and respect.
Cuddled up together in their bed an hour or so later Susan and Cassie continued to dissect the events of the last couple of days and their reactions to them.
I think they're a bit scared of me now Suze.
"Sweetheart anyone who's met you would have to be very stupid to not be at least a little bit scared of you."
Are you?
Susan saw the concern in her girlfriend's eyes and stroked her cheek lovingly.
"No honey." She kissed her lover gently on lips before continuing. "I mean it's not to say that you can't be intense and creepy and more than a bit frightening but you can also be sweet and kind and caring." Each one these descriptions was punctuated with another kiss. "A psychopath wouldn't have put the effort that you have into keeping these girls safe. A psychopath wouldn't love me like you do. Alright?"
'Kay.
Susan 'awwwed' at her adorably cute girlfriend and set about showing her exactly how 'not scared' of her she really was and when the physically and mentally exhausted girl fell asleep in her arms a little while later she smiled contentedly. She didn't care that her lover had the capacity within herself to maim and kill without hesitation or remorse. Cassandra Evans-Black could slaughter thousands, she could burn the whole world to the ground and Susan would still be there. Right by her side. Now and forever.
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As the events at Delacour Villa had been classified as 'top secret' by both the British and French Ministries the details of it were, of course, common knowledge for the entire population within the day. The papers were full of the Death Eater attack in France and editorials condemning the attempted resurrection of the costly 'blood war' and praising the actions of certain high profile members of wizarding high society were all over the inside pages.
One voice, however, was conspicuously missing from this great raft of opnion and wild speculation. Rita Skeeter was playing it smart. She was going to scoop the whole of the publishing world by getting an interview with the major players in this little drama and she wouldn't be doing it exclusively for The Daily Prophet. She had quit that morning, exchanging the security of a permanent, paid position for the vague freedom that life as a freelancer offered. A freelancer who would be working, if she could arrange it, for the promotion of the ideals of a certain wizarding clan.
Dumbledore's political power and influence was ebbing, not that he couldn't still make things very difficult and uncomfortable for her, but she saw the way the wind was blowing. Had done for some time in fact. It was why she had walked that tight-rope in her reports on the Tri-Wizard Tounament between the powerful old Chief Warlock and the rising star of the Black heiress, not being outwardly or overly supportive or censorious of either party. This precarious balancing act had kept her in the position of respected neutral observer but now it was time for Rita to make a difficult decision. It was time to choose a side. The safety of Dumbledore and the status quo or the hard but possibly more rewarding road of the The Black Witch.
She chose the House of Black.
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had done what all good leaders had done for centuries and at the first hint of a threat had pulled their family, friends, and allies to their London stronghold. She approved both of their power and of their shifting stance on traditions that had kept witches under the feet of their male counterparts for far too long. The leadership that the primary heiress of that fine old family would provide in the future was what she had been waiting for for too long now.
The misogeny and 'boys club' mentality of the wizarding world had always chafed on her hidden feminist ideals and even kept her down in her career. She had lost count of the number of her male colleages who had been promoted over her head, given the pick of the assignments just because they had a penis. It was even worse in the political arena although there were a few tough and determined women there at least. Women like Augusta Longbottom and of course Amelia Black nee Bones. She looked at the House of Black and saw that if the fortunes of witches in their society was ever going to change it would be due to the exploits of the powerful and ruthless young women who made up the younger generation of that clan. They had seriously impressed her with their drive and intelligence and togetherness, which was not an easy thing to do and she vowed now to help them in their quest of a better Britain.
Of couse there were very strict rules about this sort of thing in the upper echelons of wizarding society and Rita Skeeter was having to make sure that she took a great deal of care to do this properly. The first step was to contact the Head of the family and request a formal meeting in private which was why she was here in the backwater wizarding village of Rhyngaar in North Wales.
Entering the dingy general store which doubled up as the post owl office Rita fished around in her ugly but useful old brown leather bag for her pre-written mesage and a few galleons and approached the girl at the counter. She caught sight of the large poster of Cassandra Evans-Black in her skimpy and daring battle outfit with scythe and wand in hand, super-imposed on the green and white Welsh flag and smiled at the legend beneath it.
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a wnaed yng nghymru (made in Wales)
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She had definitely come to the right place. The people out here in the remote parts her homeland loved and adored the 'Du Wrach' or the 'Black Witch' in English and their pride in her was clear and tangible. Rita could almost taste it in the air. It made this the perfect location to send her message from. Nobody here knew who she was and even if they did they would certainly not be asking questions of why she was writing to the Blacks.
"I would like to send a mesage to Lord Sirius and Lady Amelia Black. Do you have a suitably reliable post owl?"
The girl at the counter blinked rapidly at these names, squeaked out an apology and hurried off to get the manager so that he could deal with this, obviously very important, custoner. Hardly anyone bar the few local wizard families used their tiny, rural sub-office of the post owl network and certainly no-one who had regular dealings with such lofty and high powered individuals. This kind of thing was far above her pay grade and she was more than happy to hand it off to her boss.
As Rita emerged out into the daylight she heard a fluttering of wings and turned to see a small tawny owl rising from the rear of the store that she had just left. It flew in a couple of lazy circles around the village to gain some height before setting it's course and streaking off to the South East and the London fortress home of the House of Black. She knew that the people who that letter was destined for were, above all else, pragmatists and knew that they would see her value to them. It was simply a question of whether she could impress them enough with her fervour for change. Apparating back to her tiny apartment she made some tea and settled down to await the reply that would determine not just her future but that of the whole country.
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