"Cassandra Lestrange… Forced into battle, the war's greatest killer you'll become… Twice you'll lose your family, and twice you'll choose your targets in those you find responsible for the slaughter of your loved ones… Bound in a covenant, only death will undo the knot you join in."
Those words kept ringing in Cassandra's ears. There was a war coming. She would lose her family twice, somehow. And she would become a killer. A killer like her father and her uncle Rabastan. A killer like her mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, who'd once called herself the Dark Lord's most faithful servant, in front of the entire Wizengamot. Cassandra thought about how horrified she'd been, at eight years old, when she'd read transcripts of the Death Eater trials from the war, that she'd asked her grandfather to get copies of. Before coming to Hogwarts, she used to re-read them every year on her birthday. Back then, she had wanted to remind herself of all the terrible things that had been done in the name of the cause her family had been so utterly devoted to, all the reasons why she shouldn't miss their presence in her life. But fate had decided that none of the lessons she'd tried to teach herself, about right and wrong and what lines shouldn't be crossed, would help her. In the end, Cassandra Lestrange would prove herself her mother's daughter.
She knew it wasn't a matter of if the prophecy would come true, only of when. Many witches and wizards, herself included, harbored a general distrust of divination. Most practitioners of the art were either clever charlatans or hopeless fools. But not even the most skeptical would dismiss a prophecy given by a true Seer. It was common knowledge that the word of prophecies always held importance, even if that importance wasn't easily or immediately apparent. Her only hope was a bastard hope, that Sybill Trelawney wasn't a real Seer, but a mad teacher playing a cruel joke at her expense.
After Trelawney had said those blasted words, Cassandra had run back to the dungeons, Adrian hot in her heels. They had argued wordlessly in the Slytherin common room, but he'd understood she needed time by herself to process what had happened, and let her go to her dorm room without too much protest. She had immediately written a letter to her grandfather detailing exactly what had happened, and summoned Mimi to deliver it to him. She sat in her bed, right leg bouncing frantically as she waited for his reply. It came two hours later in a letter given to her by Mimi, who, sensing her distress, insisted on staying by her Mistress' side as she read it.
My dear child,
I have verified that Sybill Trelawney is in fact the great-great-granddaughter of a genuine Seer by the name of Cassandra Trelawney. The trance-like state in which she communicated and her failure to remember speaking the words after coming out of it also seem to indicate this prophecy might be authentic, according to the specialist I have reached out to.
He also informed me there has long been rumor of a chamber within the Ministry of Magic - most likely, in the Department of Mysteries, where records of all true prophecies made in Britain are supposedly archived. I will look further into this, and find out if such a system exists, and if so, whether the subject of a prophecy might inquire as to the existence of an equivalent record. I will write to you again as soon as I have this information.
I do not believe you need to be told this, but I encourage you to exercise discretion in regards to this matter, for your own protection. Focus on finishing your school year. We will deal with this situation soon enough.
Your grandfather,
Cygnus Black III
Cassandra put the parchment down, grabbed a pillow to bury her face in, then bit it as hard as she could to stop herself from screaming. She stayed like that for a long time, face-down in her bed, her entire body coiled with tension. Her hope of the Divination teacher being a fraud was squashed by her grandfather's words.
After a while, she felt the soft bristles of a hairbrush caressing her scalp.
"Mimi will take care of her Mistress," the house-elf said firmly, while brushing her hair. With every gentle brush, Cassandra felt a little bit of tension leaving her body. "Mimi will protect her, just like she did when we was keeping the nosy wizards out of the house. Mimi won't let anyone hurt her Mistress Cassandra."
The witch let herself be lulled by the familiar comfort of Mimi's care, feeling her heart ache in her chest. "Will you sleep here with me tonight, Mimi? Like we used to do when I was little?" Cassandra asked, with her eyes still closed.
"Mimi would be most pleased to. But Mistress will stop being so sad, or she'll break Mimi's heart," the house-elf replied.
"I'm not sad, Mimi," Cassandra said quietly, "I'm scared."
The next day, Cassandra decided she would heed her grandfather's advice, and go back to attending her classes. Exams would happen very soon, and she might as well focus on that for the time being. She had just finished braiding and pinning up her hair, and was wondering if she should go to Madam Pomfrey for a bruise pomade to erase the black eye she'd gotten as a courtesy from the bludger that had knocked her out the day before, when she heard someone banging impatiently on the bathroom door.
"What?" She snapped at her dorm mate.
"Prefect Farley wants to talk to you." The girl replied in a bored tone.
Cassandra rolled her eyes. She was probably going to be questioned about her absences. When she stepped out of her dorm room, Gemma Farley was leaning against a wall, looking bored. The fifth year raised an eyebrow at Cassandra's bruised face, but didn't comment on it.
"There's a Hufflepuff boy outside the common room entrance asking for you, and he's about to get hexed," the prefect said.
"Thank you," Cassandra said and took off in that direction, not waiting for a reply. What was Cedric thinking, loitering outside the Slytherin common room? There were many of her housemates whose favorite pastime was harassing students from the other Houses, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs especially. A Hufflepuff walking up to the hidden entrance would be seen as a challenge by many of them. The thought of a six or seventh year attacking Cedric made her walk even faster.
She recognized Cassius Warrington first. He had Cedric against a wall, his wand under the Hufflepuff's chin. Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick, two fourth years that she had competed against for her position as Slytherin Beater for two years in a row with success, flanked the boy she sat besides during Care of Magical Creatures. Cassius seemed to be taunting Cedric, who was looking at him stoically, not responding to the provocations. There was a small crowd gathering around them, watching. She walked quietly until she stood a step behind the three Slytherins hounding Cedric.
"Do you really think-" Cassius sneered.
"What?" Cassandra interrupted. Every single head in the corridor turned to look at her. "Does he think what, Warrington?"
Cassius turned to look at her, still keeping his wand under Cedric's chin and his left hand on his chest, pressing him against the wall. She ignored her classmate and locked eyes with Cedric. His eyes traveled from her black eye to her split lip, and he frowned. She tried to ask him if he was ok with a look, and he nodded slightly, reassuring her.
"Diggory here was looking for you. Says he's your boyfriend," Cassius said. "I don't know if you've been slumming, Cassandra, but you should tell your pet he better know his place."
In one smooth, practiced movement, Cassandra took a step forward and with her left hand, grabbed Cassius by the back of his neck, pressing her thumb and the tip of her middle finger painfully down on the base of his head. In the same continuous movement, she quickly took advantage of the body spasm caused by the pain of her hold to snatch Warrington's wand from his right hand with hers, while kicking against the back of his knee to make him drop to the ground.
In about two seconds, Cassandra had Cassius Warrington on his knees, his muscles tensing with the pain caused by the relentless pressure she was exerting over the nerves in the back of his neck, while she pointed his own wand at his head. She ordered the two fourth years who had been aiding him to step back, and once they did, turned herself and Cassius around until she stood with her back against Cedric's front, shielding him from the small crowd watching them.
"Just for the record, Warrington, Cedric and I are together," she said. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Or do you think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when him and I are together?"
When Cassius didn't say anything, she pressed down on his neck harder. He gasped. "He's not good enough for you," the boy said, his voice wavering.
The words made her hackles rise. "And you think you are?" She giggled mockingly. "I am the last scion of the Lestrange family, and an heir of the House of Black. The wealth and purity of my lines can be traced back to the Middle Ages. You're nothing, Warrington. A nobody from a family of nobodies. So you better know your place."
She released her grip on Cassius' neck, shoving him forward so he sprawled on the floor. He got up quickly, backing into the crowd and looking at her hatefully. "This is a warning to every single person in this House," she said, addressing the Slytherin students looking at her. "Cedric Diggory is my boyfriend. You insult him, and I'll consider it an insult against me. You attack him, and I'll retaliate. You know who my parents are. You've heard what I can do. Whatever horrible things you fear someone doing to you, I promise I can do worse."
Right then, she felt one of Cedric's hands on the middle of her back, steadying. She used the feeling of his palm between her shoulder blades to anchor herself, letting go of the anger that was pumping through her blood, red and hot. She dropped Warrington's wand at his feet and reached back to offer Cedric her hand. Once he accepted it, and she led them through the crowd, up the stairs and out of Slytherin Dungeon wordlessly.
She kept walking with him by her side, their hands clasped, until they were out of the castle. When they reached the shade of a tree where they were sure no one would overhear them, Cedric turned to her, and held her face in his hands, methodically checking out her cuts and bruises. She kept her look trained in his eyes, trying to anticipate what he was going to say to her.
His thumb ghosted over her bruised eye socket.
"What happened?" He asked.
Cassandra closed her eyes, unable to handle the concern in his tone.
"Nothing," she said, "I'm okay."
"No you're not," Cedric said, and he sounded so sure, as though he knew her so well he could tell exactly how she was feeling, and Cassandra desperately wanted for that to be the case. She stood there, unwilling to lie and incapable of telling him the truth, for a moment that seemed to stretch until it felt like eternity, and then he kissed her.
Cedric pulled her closer by the hands he still had on either side of her face, but kept his lips still against hers. She was the one who wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss, pressing her lips harder against his, trying to tell him everything she felt. His fingers dipped into her hair, and she brought their bodies even closer, as close as she could with the both of them standing up.
After a while, Cassandra pulled back, just enough that their lips were no longer touching.
"Please don't hate me," she whispered.
Cedric sighed deeply, kissed the corner of her mouth once, then took a step back. "For a very smart witch, you can be unbelievably dense sometimes, Cassandra. I've been worried sick about you. I kept looking for you hoping we could talk, but I couldn't find you anywhere. Then yesterday, someone told me they'd seen you and that you looked hurt, and you have a bloody black eye. Tell me what happened."
"You shouldn't have gone to the dungeons, Cedric," she said. "If I hadn't gotten there in time-"
"I would've handled it," Cedric said fiercely. "We may have different ways of dealing with things, but I am not helpless. You haven't been to class in days, and I couldn't come up with any other way to see you. I even followed Klaus around to see if he'd lead me to you. Now stop avoiding the subject; how did you get hurt?"
"I caught a bludger with my face during practice. I was going to see Madam Pomfrey today. It's nothing," she said.
He digested that information for a moment. "So all this time, you were avoiding me," he concluded.
"No. Yes. I just…" Cassandra tried to answer, not getting anywhere. When Cedric noticed her wringing her hands anxiously, his face fell.
"Please, just tell me the truth," he pleaded.
She flicked her gaze up to him, and saw herself reflected in his eyes. She didn't look powerful or strong at all, as she had felt during her confrontation with Warrington, but embarrassed and vulnerable. Ready to bolt at a moment's notice, because apparently dealing with her feelings for Cedric was just too hard for her. It was an ugly image, and she hated herself for her weakness.
"I didn't want... I wasn't ready for you to end our… this thing that's going on between us," Cassandra said. "But I'm ready now. You can do it."
"You called me your boyfriend in front of Professor Kettleburn the other day. And again in front of half of your House just now," Cedric replied.
Of course he would be offended at being publicly claimed like an object, or a helpless pet. She certainly would've been, in his place. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"I am," he said before she could finish. "I am your boyfriend. Actually, boyfriend doesn't even begin to cover what I want to be for you. You own me, Cassandra. From the moment I saw you being carried out of that forest covered in blood, half-dead because you were willing to do whatever it took to save a wounded unicorn, you've owned me. I wouldn't care if you shouted that to the entire Great Hall, because it's the truth. I would gladly wear a 'Property of Cassandra Lestrange' pin on my robes if it got you to talk things through with me for once. So don't you dare use that as an excuse to run away."
"Is that what you think I'm going to do?" she asked weakly.
"It's what you do every time you do something you think I'll hate you for. You run away from me, so I don't have the chance to leave you like your parents did," he said.
Cassandra felt those words like a bludger to the chest. That had been the formative experience of her childhood: The two people who should've loved her the most abandoning her in the name of a lost cause. Growing up, she had often wondered what made her less lovable than other children like her cousin Draco, whose parents had chosen to lie about their true allegiances not to be thrown in Azkaban after the end of the war. She focused on trying not to cry. She wanted to hurt Cedric, and then to kiss him, for understanding this about her. Merlin, she wished he didn't sound so kind while saying something like that. It was like he was a Healer, and she was his hysterical patient with her damaged mind being examined.
"You should leave me. You have to!" she cried, trying to convince him, as well as herself.
"Why? You're reckless and aggressive, but that's only a part of who you are, that I can live with." Cedric said. "After what you did for me earlier, you think I would ever leave you? There is nothing you can say or do that would make me walk away from you. Because I'm in love with you, Cassandra."
She wanted to laugh at how bitterly unfair it was for him to say those things to her, especially when her strongest urge was to blurt out something absolutely horrible, like you mean everything to me. You mean everything to me, and there's this prophecy that says one day I'll become a killer, and I'm terrified you'll hate me then. Because I love you, too. I love you.
And the worst thing about it was that that was the first time Cassandra realized just how much she did love him. Right there, in the middle of an argument that she wasn't even sure qualified as an argument, because at the end of it Cedric said something that almost made her heart burst.
"I'm not like them, you know. I have no cause, no ambition that matters more to me than you. So if you want to run, run. I won't sit back and let you slip away, like you never existed. I'll fight for you. I'll always fight for you," he said.
It was funny, really, that the most romantic thing Cassandra ever heard someone say made her break down in painful sobs.
"I have to tell you something," she said through tears.