MEAN! by Madeline The Person
The sun is starting to set and the three of them have been having the same argument for what feels like ten hours - though, in reality, it can't have been more than two, as that was how long ago Cain had come back from the final match of the cup.
He pulls his bowtie closed, his attention focused on the healer spluttering about how all her fractured bones have set back perfectly instead of on whether it's as perfectly symmetrical as usual. He turns back to them just in time to see her cross her arms, pout at Tom, and declare, while sitting up in the same bed she's more or less been confined to for the past week, "See, I'm fine now. More than capable of standing and chatting at some party."
"You don't know that," Tom grits out. "It's better to be careful - "
"Isn't it at Cain's townhouse? If I'm not feeling well I can always just go upstairs to rest. Seems plenty careful to me. If I don't at least make an appearance in public soon, people will start to gossip."
"There's a party every week. You can go to the next one."
"Yes, but that's not the same as this one. Which you know. Since Cain is hosting if I don't attend, then people will think - "
We've broken up, Cain finishes for her in his head. Which they had, technically. He still doesn't know where they stand. Or where they stand - her and Tom. He's become accustomed to this strange in between, but he knows it can't last forever. Especially once she realizes there's a baby growing in her belly.
He shoves the thought away and interrupts her before she can finish, "Just let her go, Tom. I'm sure you know how stubborn she is. Anyway, there will be aurors from the ministry checking everyone who enters and basically half the people there will be yours."
"Fine," he says with a sigh, "But if anything happens - "
"I'll stay next to one of you all night. It will be impossible for anything to happen. We need to get back to work, Tom."
The scowl on his face says he knows she's right. He turns to change into his own dress robes without another word.
She doesn't keep her promise. Tom gets pulled away for some business with Karkaroff he clearly does not want her to be a part of, and she gets bored standing next to Cain as he talks about the best plays of the cup with quidditch stars. So she wanders off in search of a drink and somewhere less crowded than the main ballroom for some air.
She ends up in the greenhouse, where a few people are milling about the shaded paths, having more private conversations. She makes a beeline for the bar in the corner. Cain had not-so-discreetly blocked all her attempts to pick up a glass of wine earlier and after weeks of being treated as an invalid she desperately needs a taste of something sweet and bubbly.
Just as she is about to swing behind the counter, a man pops up. He gives her a curious look then says, "It would appear we are looking for the same thing, but no luck here."
She stands on her tiptoes to peek over the top of the bar and sees the wine fridge is indeed empty. She points to the cabinets below the counter instead, "He usually keeps the good stuff in the bottom right drawer, at the back."
The man grins and pops down again before remerging a few moments later holding a bottle. While pointing his wand at it to chill it, he says, "Why, thank you for the tip. Would you like some?"
"Yes, please," she says as she looks back to check if Cain had followed her out. He would probably scold her for this, but merlin, does she need a drink after feeling everyone's eyes on her all night.
"You look as beautiful tonight as always," she hears him mutter under his breath as he pops the bottle open. He's not sure if he meant her to hear it or not, but either way it's rude. She's sure she does not know this man so why would he think they are close enough for him to say such a thing?
She turns back to ask, an edge to her tone, "Have we met before?"
"You don't remember? I'm hurt," he teases while reaching under the bar once again to take two glasses. It irks her, nearly drawing a frown before she remembers her role as quasi-co-host and sets her expression right again. She takes the glass he is holding out and then turns away from him, looking toward the door once again before downing the champagne in one go.
He seems to read her mind without even seeing her slip, because his tone switches to exaggerated contrition, "Ah, my deepest apologies. Was I being too familiar, Mrs. Alexander? Force of habit, I suppose."
Based on his playful tone, she has the feeling there is some joke she is not getting. She turns her head to scan her eyes over him again as he emerges from behind the bar, something about him seeming almost familiar, but still no name comes to mind.
"Thank you, but that's not how I prefer to be addressed," she corrects, trying to sound as polite as she can. His expression darkens for a moment in a way she does vaguely recognize, only confusing her more. Why can't she place him? "Would you please remind me of your name, sir?"
"Oh, you'll figure it out soon enough. Here you go," he smiles as he holds out a fresh glass of champagne to her and she takes it. She turns her head away to take a sip and that is when she hears it, such a quiet whisper she almost swears she imagined it, "Cassie."
She stumbles back as if struck. It's been half a decade since she heard that nickname, yet it still stings as much as it did back then. All of a sudden a familiar scent rushes to her head. No, it can't be - her eyes flash up to survey the stranger again - it's not, of course he's not, that wouldn't make any sense. It's just her brain playing tricks on her. Some kind of delayed side effect, perhaps. Or maybe just this man playing tricks on her in some kind of effort to mock her… But how would anybody else know that's what Nik always called her?
She reaches behind her and finds the edge of the bar, grabbing it to steady herself. She tries to take a breath and calm down. She can't let such a stupid prank get to her, if that's what it is. She shuts her eyes and then opens them again and only then does she notice his bewildered expression. Maybe it was all just in her head after all. Probably.
Before she can apologize and excuse herself, he says, "What's wrong, Mrs. Alexander? You look like you've seen a ghost. Should I escort you somewhere to rest?"
"I'm fine, thank you," she replies as evenly as possible while standing up straight again. She lifts her glass to her lips once more, hoping he will take it as a cue to give up.
"Are you sure?" the stranger asks, still smiling. "You look as if you might faint."
"I said I'm fine."
"Another glass?"
"I can get it - "
"Allow me," he says, bottle already in his hand. He reaches forward to pour for her before she can object.
Another breeze sweeps in as the doors open for another guest to leave. There's that scent again, the unmistakable osmanthus and musk wafting down to her and making her doubt herself. She tries to shake it off, looking for an escape from this situation, but the room seems to have grown strangely foggy. Is she drunk already? Perhaps she should have listened to the healer's advice after all.
"You are very beautiful, Mrs. Alexander," he nearly whispers in her ear, bottle conjured away so that his hand is suddenly free to run down her left arm. "Why don't you finish your glass and we can find somewhere quiet - "
He pauses for a second as he reaches her hand. His expression darkens again and from this close up she knows it, recognizes it from the thousand times he looked at her like that over what felt like a thousand years, even on a stranger's face. Now there is no doubt left in her mind, just the search for an explanation.
Another step back sends her bumping against the counter. She flinches as the pain of the impact shoots up her back.
His hand clasps around hers hard, "See, I knew you weren't feeling well. Come - "
"No," she says sharply, pulling away. He just steps closer, cornering her again. A devilish smile creeps onto his face as he examines her expression.
"Well, now I don't know whether to be disappointed or delighted that you do still remember me so well," he jeers.
"Leave me alone," she grits out, not daring to take her eyes off him for a second, even as the rest of the room is starting to spin. He must have put something in the champagne. Of fucking course.
"My sweet Cassie, always so stubborn," he sighs. "Come now, I went to all the trouble of borrowing someone else's appearance to attend this little party. Won't you be obedient just this once? You do owe me, darling."
"I don't owe you anything."
"I was going to be nice and let the name thing slide, but between your attitude and the fact you aren't wearing your wedding ring, now I'll have to punish you."
"Oh, sorry, I lost it. I suppose if you never really liked something it becomes easy to lose," she snarls, squinting as she tries to look for the door. She can already hear her speech starting to slur. She shouldn't be wasting whatever energy she still has left before whatever he dosed her with takes full effect to verbally spar with him. But she cannot help it after looking at his smug expression. "I'm only going to warn you once. Stay away from me or - "
"Come on, Cassie. You can't pretend you didn't miss me. I'll treat you better this time, I promise."
"You just said you were going to punish me," she scoffs.
"I didn't say how," he whispers in a way that she hates still gives her goosebumps.
"I don't care why or how you came back, or what else you do, but - "
"Now, if I was going to be satisfied with that, why would I have sought you out in the first place? Why would I have sent my dogs to fetch you for me - and then come here myself after they failed miserably? I came back for you, darling. Isn't it funny that I finally really fell in love with you over you killing me? Well, trying to."
She's quiet, processing what he just said. His dogs? Fetch? The hospital. If that had been him then that meant…
"Though its troublesome that you've caught on a bit too early yet again today. It looks like I'm always underestimating you, darling. I did buy the best draught I could find on the black market, but I'm sure now that you're aware of it, it will be no match for your willpower - and I don't think either of us wants a mess this public. So let's keep chatting instead. We've been having such a pleasant conversation already, haven't we?"
Well, he's wrong about the potion. Whoever made this was good, because its taking all her strength and all her magic to barely stay standing right now. But she can't let him know that. Even if there are people here, knowing him, he'll find a way to sneak her out the second she losses consciousness. She has to stay awake. At least then she can use the last bit of her energy to call for help if he tries anything, even if it will be infinitely embarrassing and a scandal.
She almost laughs as she realizes something. If its the best on the black market, she may very well have made it.
Anyway, she's curious about what he's up to, and maybe if she plays along he'll be stupid enough to keep babbling about it. Though the idea of giving him exactly what he wants makes her want to throw up, her alternative options are looking dismal right now so she'll just have to make this conversation as unpleasant as possible for him.
"I have no desire to ever chat with you. I would have thought you get it by now, Nikola. I hate - "
"Watch it, Cassie," he spits. She flinches, a reflex which she curses herself for still having. Even back then that was the one thing he'd never ever let her say. Everything else he didn't want to hear he would punish her for after, but with this he'd always hit her before she could finish the word. "Remember, people aren't always watching. Nobody is that interesting. Not even your little prince."
"Don't touch him," she replies reflexively.
"Or what? You'll sic your dogs on me? My dogs did tell me about them. Or are they his dogs? The ones milling about in their dress robes here? That would make more sense. Shall we see whose beasts are better trained?"
So he does not know about Tom, at least. Good.
"I'll go after you myself."
"Don't fool yourself, Cassie. You still can't hurt me."
"Have you forgotten - "
"A little exception that proves the rule. Even that was gentle, compared to what you could have done."
"That was in my own self interest, not because I wasn't capable of doing worse."
"Oh, but it helped you realize I was right, didn't it, Cassie? You need me. You can't be yourself without me."
"I found someone else to be myself with," she spits.
"That spoiled brat?" he scoffs. "He would never understand - oh, there's someone else. You're as interesting as ever, darling. Who has my little lunatic found to blame her bloodthirst on in my absence?"
Fuck. How does he always dig so deep under her skin?
Just as she's trying to think of a way to convince him he's made an incorrect assumption, she sees Tom entering the conservatory out of the corner of her eye and nearly curses out loud. She can't let them meet. Her will finally breaks the hold of the potion and she feels the blood in her arms again. She tries to slip her wand out of her pocket as inconspicuously as possible, attempting to distract him by glaring at him and declaring, "It wasn't my - "
A failed attempt, as he's already followed where her gaze had been a few seconds ago. Her heart nearly stops when he turns his head to look at Tom and then back at her. Luckily, he just smirks and says, "Hmm, it looks like one of the dogs has escaped his trap. Should I perhaps ask him? Ah, judging by that look the potion is wearing off and I've hit a nerve. What a shame. Until next time, my sweet Cassie."
He takes the hand that had been reaching for her wand and lifts it to his mouth. She feels like her heart really has stopped now, feels it clenching knowing who is really touching her, feels herself stuck in that old habit of letting him, as if her whole body has gone numb all over again. He glances up at her and she shuts her eyes, falling back against the bar as he lets go of her hand. She can't tell if she is shaking or if the world is. She tries her best to take a deep breath as she watches him disappearing into the crowd again.
She can't let anybody see her like this. Can't let him know how weak she still is. Can't let Tom get involved in this. Or Cain. It's too dangerous. He's too dangerous.
He's gone. She can breath again.
For now.
She looks up as Tom's shoes appear on the ground in front of her, barely suppressing the urge to throw up on them, "Here you are, Cass. I thought I told you not to - Is something wrong?"
"Just feeling a little tired after all this socializing."
"Was that man bothering you?" Tom says, looking behind him for the man in question.
"No, just some minor country's official trying to get some 'charitable' funding as usual," she lies. "It's just that the whole thing is a bit… much to jump into as my first appearance after these few weeks. I think I'll just go up to - "
"I'll come with you."
"It's fine. I'm sure you have things to take care of. I don't want to be a bother, especially after you insisted I shouldn't come and turned out to be right. Cain is probably busy as well, I'm guessing?"
"Caught by the minister as soon as she arrived so that she could parade him around the room taking credit for the cup's success, and of course Robards has been blathering to me every chance he gets trying to extract some bribe for Cain's inevitable promotion," Tom says, rolling his eyes. "I am sure you see why I could use a break as well. Let's - "
"Your absence will be noted, Tom. As I am sure mine already has. I'll just take a few moments to rest upstairs, change into something a tad less restrictive, and then come join Cain. If you're worried, just send someone up to watch the door instead - last one on the left."
"Fine, Cass. But if anything happens - "
"Relax, Tom. Somebody would have to be crazy to try something here of all places," she says with a forced smile. "I'll be back soon. Are there any foreign officials I should make sure to talk to then?"
"The American minister is proving a bit dodgy."
"Just gauge whether or not he would interfere, right? And the Germans?"
"It appears our German friends never quite gave up Grindelwald's dream, so we should be fine. But the Hungarians - "
"A bit of lingering guilt, hmm? Or so they try to make it seem. Well, no matter, it should be easy enough to buy them off. They know better than to demand very much."
"You really don't look well, Cass. If you want me to - "
"No, no, you go handle the Hungarians and I'll go up," she reassures, finally feeling steady enough to step away from the wall. "See you soon."
A/N: So yes, this story is still happening... let's just consider my long hiatus as a break between seasons and this chapter as the official start of Season 2. I'll be honest about what happened. I got a critical review and it made it really hard for me to continue writing. I was already a little unsure about the direction this story was going in so it really hit me hard and I kept having doubts about whether this chapter was good enough to post, even though it has actually been written for some time, or whether I should just go back and rewrite part of the story to just end it at some point. In the end, while I think there's a different way I would go with this story if I wrote it today (largely because I never imagined it would go on for so long), this story and characters mean a lot to me even if some people don't like/get them so I would really like to finish it. If anybody is still reading, I do feel really bad about keeping you waiting. A bunch of life stuff is starting to wrap up now, so I will try to update twice a month from now on.
