Okay, here it is - next chapter, a little early as my apology gift for being so slow on the last update.
There's a lot of material here so feel free to leave questions/comments/critiques for me. They really help me to develop the story better.
I agree with you guys on Montague being hard to read. He definitely comes off as a prick, which he is. But he does care about Cassius, and he doesn't want to see him hurt or killed. At the same time, he really doesn't like Alicia. The two things play hand in hand, which, I guess make him come off as extra douchey.
Anyway, enjoy this chapter and R/R as always!
PS
Thanks to Chkale, Sibel88, Guest and Etoile Black for your comments! XOXO
As Cassius listened to Montague and Flint go on about bullshit for the next hour, he slowly stewed in his anger and jealousy while he sipped on his umpteenth glass of Ogden's, glaring into the fireplace as he tried to sort himself out.
Alicia and Graham. It made him sick just to hear the two names together, echoing in his head. Worse than Alicia and Carson even. At least Bishop was a soft, sorry twat. But Montague... well. That was a different story. Cassius glanced over at him in disgust. He would have killed him by now if it weren't for the fact that Flint was sitting right there, would have skimmed him alive, taken a deep pleasure in hearing him scream for mercy.
But had she really done it?
That was the question that echoed in his mind. He wouldn't put it past Montague at having set the whole thing up... and yet the more he drank, the more he thought about the last time he'd been with her, how she'd gone on about what might happen if Montague were to ever proposition her... how she'd gone on about how good a bleeding snog he was -
"Fuck!"
His glass had shattered, and Cassius hissed in pain as the firewhiskey seeped into his wounds.
"Reparo," said Flint lazily as the same time as Montague murmured, "Episkey."
Cassius cleaned off his jeans with the flick of his wand and angrily reached for the bottle to refill his glass. Flint seized it before he got to it.
"I think you've had enough, mate," he said, looking amused. "What's your problem anyway?"
"Nothing," Cassius spat.
Flint snickered.
"Right. Well you're still not getting any - at the rate you're going, you might just end up in St. Mungo's for a stomach pumping."
"Fine, fuck you both -
"Oi, what did I do?" said Montague innocently, as Flint's eyes flashed dangerously. Cassius stood up violently, glaring at Montague.
"What did you do? Fuck you Montague -
Flint stood up and shoved Cassius back before he could launch himself on top of Montague, who was leaning back in his seat, lazily staring up at him as though nothing was amiss.
"What the hell's your problem Warrington?" Flint barked. "Merlin's balls, can't handle a bit of drink? You haven't said anything in the past hour, and all of a sudden you lose it? If I didn't think you were a decent bloke, I'd fucking do you in right now. So do yourself a favour and go home before you piss me off. Get some rest. Maybe not touch another drink until you man the fuck up."
Cassius threw a dirty look at Montague before snatching a handful of Floo powder from the ornate carved wooden box Flint held out to him.
"What's your address?"
Cassius stared blankly at Flint.
"Tell me your address," Flint repeated, "So I know you're not going to slur it up and end up in some fireplace in China."
"I'm not that fucking toasted," Cassius snarled.
"Then tell me your address."
Cassius ignored him and tossed the powder into the fireplace. He stepped into the green flames without bothering to grace his companions with a glance or a word of goodbye.
"Berkley House, 47 Bramwood Lane, London."
"That bad?" asked her father as Alicia entered the pub from upstairs, makeup and hair still done, though she'd changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old jumper.
"Worse," Alicia mumbled as she sat down at the bar next to a couple regulars. "Hi Mr. Michaels. Mum's having it out with gran through the Floo... er, through the phone right now. Couldn't handle the arguing. Their voices just get higher and higher - bloody sounds like a banshee giving birth up there."
"Well what happened?"
What happened? Where to even begin?
Alicia looked up, startled, as her father placed a pint in front of her.
"Butterbeer?" she asked hopefully. Her father kept a secret stash of alcohol from the wizarding world under the bar for magical clientele. It'd been her mother's suggestion to increase business, as there was a rather large concentration of magical folk in the neighbourhood.
She accepted the pint gratefully, and her father shook his head.
"And to think you used to crawl around on top of this bar, and now your day-beauting."
Alicia snorted.
"I'd give anything to be able to crawl around again. I hate getting old."
"Hey!" said her father in mock offence, "If you're old, what does that make me?"
"Ancient," said Alicia, ducking as her father attempted to swot her head.
"What's all this?"
"Hi mum. I'm sorry about -
"Oh don't be. You grandmother's insane."
"What happened?" her father repeated.
"Oh nothing, Alan. You know my mother. Bloody drama queen. Apparently Alicia hd to use the loo and she disappeared for a bit - got lost in that great hulking manor, big surprise there - and they almost had to send out a search party! Mother's delicate sensibilities were offended. That's about it."
That's about it.
If only.
Before the conversation could go on, the door swung open, letting in a gust of wind and some wet snow as Florence and Skylar hurried in, slamming the door behind them.
"Sorry we're late, walking's just impossible in this weather."
"Oh it's not a problem," said Aurora, taking their shopping bags as they peeled off their layers. "Anyway, the show doesn't start until eight."
"The show?" Alicia repeated.
Alan let out a groan.
"Your mother wanted to go see -
"Sense and Sensibility," said Aurora gleefully.
Alicia and Skylar glanced at each other and sniggered loudly.
"Really, dad? You're going to go see a Jane Austen?"
"Oh, don't you worry your little heads about it," said Alan conspiratorially. He glanced at his wife with a sneaky grin. "You'll be more than making up for it tonight -
"DAD!" Alicia shrieked in horror, as Skylar let out a cough of embarrassment.
"What? Don't tell me you think you're Jesus re-incarnate! Your mother certainly wasn't a -
"DAD! Stop! Oh my god, come on Sky, let's get out of here before I puke."
"Didn't your mother talk about the birds and the bees with you?" Alan shouted after the girls, laughing at them along with the bar patrons who'd witnessed the whole thing. "And don't forget to behave! Florrie's going to watch the bar while we're out!"
"God, my dad's so gross sometimes," Alicia mumbled as she and Skylar flopped onto her bed.
"So? I think it's cute that your parents are so in love with each other. Hell, at least you've got a dad."
Alicia mentally smacked herself in the head for being so insensitive. She opened her mouth to apologize but Skylar cut her off.
"Don't. Anyway, I didn't tell you -
"Tell me what?"
"I got us tickets to Department 69's New Year's Eve extravaganza!"
"What? How -
Skylar smirked as she waved the tickets in Alicia's face.
"This bloke I'm seeing -
"Hang on, seeing or seeing?"
Skylar rolled her eyes.
"Alright, this bloke that I've been shagging, his cousin's best friend is the son of the owner so he got me tickets!"
"But you're underage!"
"Hello, what part of connections don't you understand?"
"Hey, wait a second - does your mum know? My mum told me you guys were going back to France for Christmas."
Skylar gave her a wide grin.
"Well that's just the beauty behind the whole thing, isn't it? We are going back to France, but -
And suddenly it dawned on her.
"You fucking genius," Alicia crowed.
Department 69 was a world-famous wizarding club due to its sheer size and history. It was a massive four-storey club that was renowned for being the only club that catered to both the magical community and the muggle community. It could be entered through Diagon Alley or through muggle London. Once inside, the club was split off into two sides, though witches and wizards could access the muggle side at will. The club was so popular that it actually had its own special apparition point inside, as well as an international portkey station manned by actual Ministry workers and several fireplaces connected to the Floo Network. While Alicia had never been, her parents used to go often enough when she was young, and her mother had described the place to her in detail on several occasions.
"Hang on a sec," said Alicia suddenly. "Isn't that where -
"Yep," said Skylar nonchalantly.
Where she'd been conceived. Sort of. Florrie claimed she couldn't remember the night she'd met Skylar's mysterious father, for there had apparently been copious amounts of liquor and possibly some drugs involved that New Year's Eve, nearly seventeen years ago. All she could remember was that he was French. And tall, which Alicia and Skylar had deduced, for Skylar had not evidently not inherited her leggy model-esque height from her small mother.
"So... so how are you going to get away, then?"
Skylar rolled her eyes.
"Mum's not an idiot - she knows I'm not going to want to spend New Year's with her. I dunno what's the matter with her - she hates New Years. I swear, look at her on New Year's and you'd think somebody died! I've been telling her, you need to get out more, you need to get laid! And you know what she said to me? Not everybody needs to sleep around in order to feel loved! What a bitch! And then she goes, you can't keep blaming me for your dad not being around. As if that has anything to do with anything!"
Alicia stared at her, stunned.
"She said that?"
Skylar snorted.
"Yeah. Well. Typical. She probably just feels guilty and has to take it out on me. I mean, merlin's balls, how many kids get to go and say 'oh, my dad? Well my mum can't exactly remember who he is to be honest with you.' I swear, she's more affected by it than I am. C'mon, let's get out of here - what are your cousins doing? I brought some hash back from school. Hey, did you hear that new Coolio song by the way? Gangster's Paradise - I bet one of the boys has it on tape already. Oh, man, they're going to flip when I show them some of the shit they've got going in France..."
The Bone and Arrow.
Was he really so stupid and desperate that he was willing to actually go visit her on her home territory?
Possibly.
Definitely.
The pub was called The Bone and Arrow, he remembered her once telling him, a bit of a shit hole, but I am rather fond of it.
He was mad. Her parents could be there. And how would he explain himself then? Oh, how do you do Mr and Mrs - Mrs? - Spinnet. I'm just the bloke who's been plowing your daughter while she's at school. Her boyfriend? Oh, no, not me, sir. I'm the Other guy.
No. Not mad. Just drunk.
"I'm not even that drunk," Cassius said to himself, which was mostly true. He's taken a good long nap, and while his steps were not quite as steady as they could be, at least things had stopped spinning since he'd been spat out of the fireplace on all fours some two hours earlier. The only problem was the nausea, really.
"Are you sure about that?" asked one of the portraits coyly.
"Oh sod off."
"Well!" the portrait giggled. "You Warringtons certainly don't seem to change!"
Cassius glared at the portrait of a woman named Giulietta, who'd been his great-great grandfather's mistress. She'd been a curvaceous beauty with a handsome face, one of the rare pureblood mistresses on the wall of portraits, for having a pureblood mistress had been nearly impossible in the days of blood magic marriages.
Cassius continued to walk down the stairs, ignoring the tittering mistresses of Warringtons past, and wandered his way to the kitchen where Tally, the house elf his father had given him, was busy preparing him a meal.
"Master Warrington!" the elf squeaked in fear.
"I is just readying you your dinner sir!"
The elf brought him a tall glass filled with some thick burgundy liquid.
"It is hangover cure!" the elf explained, bowing deeply before him.
Cassius stared blankly at the elf.
"A hangover cure?"
"Yes, Tally finds it in recipe box - portrait of old mistress tells me you will like it."
Cassius stared into the glass and sniffed it. The fact that it had no odour rendered him suspicious.
"Mistress warns you must drink it all quickly without breathing."
He hesitantly brought the glass to his lips while Tally nodded in encouragement. He shut his eyes and quickly chugged it back, willing himself not to vomit as the thick liquid slid down his throat. It tasted like a mixture of smoke, sour milk and tomatoes.
"Hangover cure my arse," he spluttered. "If I don't puke now -
He blinked.
It had actually worked. The nausea had disappeared. Alright, he felt a bit tipsy still, but no more nausea. He took a cautious step forward and his stomach didn't lurch. Well, well, would wonders never cease?
Tally beamed at him.
"Master is feeling better? Dinner is ready - where is master wanting to eat?"
"Here's fine," Cassius muttered, motioning at the little round breakfast table. He didn't like sitting in the dining room alone with nothing but the portraits for company. Eery couldn't even begin to describe the feeling.
"Master is certain?" Tally asked. "If I is in your way -
"No, it's fine. Do whatever it is you do. I'm leaving anyway."
Are you?
Cassius ignored the voice in his head and sat down at the table as Tally placed a large plate of mashed potatoes, green beans and a massive steak before him.
"What is master liking for drink?"
"Water," said Cassius, cringing at the word drink.
He ate silently, watching the falling snow through the window over the sink as Tally cleaned the kitchen.
The Bone and Arrow. Even the name sounded foreboding. And what if she wasn't even there? She could still be with her grandmother. And anyway, what was the point? It wasn't as if they were ever going to see each other again. She had Carson sodding Bishop, and apparently Montague too.
Cassius swore loudly, and the house elf jumped in fear.
"Is master angry with Tally?" the elf squeaked.
"No," Cassius muttered. "Everything's fine."
The house elf looked at him in disbelief.
"I said everything's fine! It's not the food. Food's great. Just... just get back to work or whatever."
"Yes sir!"
Fucking house elves... sometimes they were too desperate to please.
He tried to picture what he'd say to her, her reaction at seeing him standing her in father's pub, in her home. Things could happen in one of two ways: either she'd throw him out and tell him never to talk to her again, or she'd beg him for forgiveness, begging him to allow her to explain herself.
There's nothing to explain, you arse. You saw it yourself. Hell, for all you know, she could have been with him at school. Bit odd isn't it that she brought up Montague last time?
Fuck off.
She's over you, mate. She's got her boyfriend and she's got her new boy toy too, and it definitely isn't you.
Cassius slammed his fork and knife down on the table angrily, and violently rose onto his feet, causing the chair to clatter onto the floor. The house elf cowered back as Cassius passed it.
"I've got something to take care of," Cassius muttered. "You can leave the food out. I'll eat it later."
Outside it was windy and wet. Cassius stood on his doorstep and looked around. No muggles to be seen. He couldn't apparate until he reached the sidewalk, because the property itself had an anti-apparition ward over it.
Apparating was an unpleasant task sober. It felt ten times worse post-hangover-still-tipsy. The feeling of being squeezed through a tube not only made his stomach lurch unpleasantly, for a second, Cassius feared he might have splinched himself.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a little parkette on the corner of a small intersection. He groaned, realizing he'd landed in a cold puddle. The name on the sign next to him said Apparition Point Ward E-12. He looked himself up and down and wiggled all his toes and fingers as he'd been taught by his apparition instructor to ensure that everything was still in place. He reached up to touch his ears. All good.
Cassius had never used an apparition point before, for he'd never travelled great distances in muggle London. The ministry had installed apparition points throughout muggle England so that one did not have to risk being seen by muggles when apparating, and each point was indicated on a great map that every licensee was given upon passing the apparating test. As he looked around him, he noticed that he was in a residential neighbourhood that looked as though it had seen better days.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, he took another look around. The streets were deserted, though most of the houses had lights lit. He glanced at his watch. Eight o'clock.
Was he really doing this? Merlin, if only his father could see him now - or lord forbid, his mother.
What was he going to say?
Fuck Montague and dump your boyfriend? I'll forgive you for sucking off my best friend because I'm so goddamn sad and useless I might as well go hang myself? Look at yourself. You're disgusting. You're worse than Bishop. You're worse than a Ravenclaw. Fuck it, you're worse than a Hufflepuff!
Cassius lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply as he began to walk in the direction of The Bone and Arrow, trying desperately to ignore his voice of reason. He just needed to see her - just for a second - he just needed to hear her beg for his forgiveness, for anything -
Why should she ask your forgiveness? She's not your girlfriend - let her fuck around with whoever she wants behind Bishop's back.
Cassius ignored the voice and continued to walk, glancing at a group of young men who were leaning idly against a fence in front of a building, passing around a spliff and a bottle of something or other.
"You looking at something, wanker?" one of them called out sharply.
Cassius paused and glanced back over his shoulder. Muggles. And not just any muggles - poor muggles. They were dressed in baggy jeans that fell somewhere between their arses and their knees and worn-out oversized parkas.
They sauntered up to him, hands shoved in their pockets, faces drawn in callous sneers.
"Well, well boys, looks like we've got ourselves a posh little twat. You lost, wanker? Tell you what, you give us everything you have and we'll let you go, no harm done."
Cassius let out a snort. He could have all three of them flat on their backs with the flick of his wrist if he wanted to. The smallest one didn't even look like he'd hit puberty yet.
"You laughing at me, you piece of shit? What's the matter, cat got your tongue? Go on, say one word and I swear I'll cut it out -
"Where's the Bone and Arrow?"
If the boys were expecting him to say something, that certainly wasn't it. They exchanged strange glances with each other before the leader demanded,
"Who wants to know?"
Cassius licked his lips. Dry.
"I take it you know where it is then."
"Like I said, mother fucker, who wants to know?"
"What does it matter?"
The boy grabbed Cassius by the collar, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.
"If I say it matters, it fucking matters. Answer the question or I'll take up my promise and cut your tongue out."
Cassius licked his lips again and opened his mouth to speak when one of the boys suddenly cut him off.
"Oi, Angel, he's got one of them crests on his scarf like Alicia has."
Cassius and the boy holding him up glanced sharply at the one who had spoken.
"Show me your scarf," he demanded, grabbing Cassius' scarf before he could even answer. The boy, Angel, examined his scarf closely. It was completely black except for the Hogwarts crest at one end and the Slytherin crest at the other.
"This is your lucky day," Angel spat, shoving him back. "Whatchu looking for Alicia for?"
Cassius smoothed down his coat and stared coolly back at the boy.
"How do you know Alicia?"
"I asked you first," Angel snarled at the same time as the youngest of the three exclaimed, "We're her cousins, dickhead!"
"Shut your mouth Carlos." Angel stared at Cassius for a moment.
"You her boyfriend or something, then?"
Cassius licked his lips for the third time and mulled over an answer. Or something might give them the wrong idea, so he shrugged.
"Yeah," he replied smoothly. "I'm her boyfriend."
"So then how come you don't know where she lives?" the little one, Carlos, demanded.
"Don't be stupid," said the third cousin, "Does he look like he comes down this way ever?"
Angel ignored the others and glanced Cassius up and down one more time.
"Yeah, alright. We'll take you to the pub. Can't promise you'll leave in one piece though. What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't," Cassius replied as Carlos gleefully exclaimed Uncle Pink's going to break your face in!
"Well what is it then?" Angel demanded. "Can't keep on calling you wanker, now can I? Alicia won't stand for it."
"No," said Cassius agreeing, "She wouldn't, would she?" He paused to light himself another cigarette. "It's Cassius. Cassius Warrington."
The boys glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
"Even your name makes you sound like a tosser," Carlos announced matter-of-factly. "Uncle Pink's going to hate you."
Cassius followed the boys to the pub, answering their questions as vaguely as possible as they grilled him about his background and how he came to be with Alicia. They laughed when he refused their offer of weed and drink, and laughed even harder when he explained he'd spent a good part of the afternoon sloshed.
"Then you're fucked," said Michael, the third cousin. "Uncle Pink'll force you to drink 'til you spill all your secrets or your stomach."
"Why?" asked Cassius suspiciously. "Alicia bring boyfriends over before?"
The boys snorted.
"Alicia? No. You'll be the first. But he's done that with all my sister's boyfriends -
"And mine," said Carlos gleefully, "And none of them last."
"And it'll be worse for you," said Angel loftily. "Alicia's his baby girl."
Cassius groaned at the thought of more drinks and was increasingly worried by the idea of meeting Alicia's father. Obviously, he had not thought this plan of his through. In fact, he hadn't really thought much at all. But, as Angel announced in disbelief, it turned out that Cassius was "blessed by a motherfucking angel and it isn't me, wanker" because as they passed the large windows of the pub in order to reach the front door, Carlos exclaimed, "It's only Florrie!"
"Who's Florrie?"
"Florrie's Skylar's mum," said Carlos, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.
Angel rolled his eyes.
"You're an idiot. You think he knows who Skylar is?"
"You're the idiot! Skylar went to their school too -
"Yeah, past tense shithead, went. Hit the books. Florrie's Auntie Aurora's best friend. She's sort of like our aunt too. Except I'm not going in there - she doesn't exactly like me right now. You're on your own, wanker - I mean, Cassius," Michael explained.
"Well maybe you shouldn't have gone around sticking your great dick into everything that moves," Angel snorted.
Cassius raised an eyebrow.
"Er, yeah, well me and Skylar - well let's just say Florrie didn't take too kindly to me deflowering her daughter," said Michael sheepishly. "What? It's not like I forced it on her! Hell, she came onto me!"
"Yeah, well it's not like you said no either. And I don't think it helped that she was fourteen, you prick."
"So? I was fourteen too."
Cassius watched in amusement as the cousins bickered, until Michael suddenly dashed away from the windows to hide by the wall where he couldn't be seen from inside.
"Shit, you think she saw me?" he asked.
"She definitely saw you, arsewipe. You're an idiot. And it's been what, two years? I doubt she still hates you. Oh look, here she comes, you can ask her yourself," Angel sneered as they walked over towards him.
"Fuck that. You lot coming or what?"
The boys glanced back through the window and waved.
"Yeah, alright. Say hi to Uncle Pink's fist for us if you see him," said Angel as they jogged away.
Cassius looked away from their retreating forms and reached out to open the door. It swung open before he got to it.
"Where are you boys - Evan?" the woman, Florrie, gasped in a choked voice of disbelief as she dropped an empty mug in shock. It shattered against the pavement in between them.
Cassius stared blankly at the woman, who shook her head at the sound and suddenly whipped out a wand, shoving it discreetly against his abdomen.
"Who the fuck are you and what do you want from me?" she hissed.
Cassius held his arms up in a gesture of acquiescence.
"I'm looking for Alicia," he said quickly. "Her cousins said she'd be here." The woman's face relaxed somewhat, though she didn't lower her wand. Somebody from inside the bar called out, "Trouble, Florrie?"
"No, it's alright Neil. Just dropped a glass is all."
She stared at him suspiciously.
"Who are you? And what do you want with Alicia?"
"Evan is - was my uncle," said Cassius slowly. His mother did often comment about his resemblance to her brother. "I'm Cassius -
"Warrington," she finished for him, a funny look taking over the suspicious one on her face. "You're Cassius Warrington." She hesitantly lowered her wand. "Of course you are," she muttered to herself, before glaring at him once more. "What do you want with Alicia?" she repeated.
"I just need to talk her," he replied a lot more coolly than he felt. Something about the woman made him nervous, which was a rare occurrence, but the way she stared at him was... unsettling.
"Alicia's not here," she said finally. "You just missed her. Why do you need to see her? Last I checked Slytherins aren't exactly... fond of halfbood Gryffindors."
Cassius frowned.
"Your scarf," said the woman, gesturing at the Slytherin end of his scarf.
Cassius nodded.
"Right. Well. We're project partners."
"And you couldn't write to her instead?"
"Oi, Florrie, I'm just going to grab myself another pint, yeah?" somebody shouted from inside.
"Hold your horses, Jack, I'm coming!"
She glanced at him suspiciously one more time before opening the door wider to allow him in. Heads turned as he followed behind her.
"Who's the swot?"
"Friend of Alicia's."
"Oh-ho, Alicia's got herself a boyfriend has she?" said the old man at one end of the bar, eying Cassius down. "You just count your lucky stars, young man - missed her father by half an hour, you did."
"There you go," said Florrie, interrupting the old man by placing a pint in front of him.
"About time, old gel."
Florrie gestured for him to have a seat at the other end of the bar, by the cash register. Cassius looked around as he headed towards the seat. It was a small, dimly lit bar with black and white unmoving photographs and vinyl records in frames decorating the walls. There were a few booths, a few tables, and the long bar with stools. A strange black box showed miniature people moving about, and Cassius could hear them talking...
"How do you know me?" said Cassius finally as he settled into the seat by the cash register.
Florrie didn't reply and instead observed him quietly, eyes shining in an eery way that put Cassius on alert. Though she was young enough - probably about his mother's age, which put her in her thirties - something in the way she looked at him made him think of somebody who'd perhaps seen things beyond their years. It was a look he was familiar with, a look that his parents' entire generation seemed to carry with them. Some just hid it better than others.
"You wouldn't remember me, I suppose," she mused after awhile. "I was working at St. Mungo's about... fourteen years ago."
Cassius froze. St. Mungo's? Fourteen years ago... She gave him a small nod.
"Remember me now?"
"Marielle," he said in a low voice. "You - you were Marielle's healer."
"Assistant healer," she corrected him sadly. "I was still in training at the time."
"You were there," he said hoarsely, sickened by the conversation's unexpected turn.
She handed him a drink and he accepted it gratefully as he remembered the horrors of the day Marielle had died, Marielle his baby sister who never grew old enough to properly say his name. Cashi, she would squeal when he'd pick her up. Mon Cashi.
Somebody had held him back from trying to shake her awake... too young to properly understand why she wouldn't open her eyes, somebody had held him tight, stroking his hair while his mother had thrown her hysterics, cursing the healers, cursing his father, blaming him for his absence - and then she'd dragged him to Berkley Manner where they'd found him with his mistress... but it didn't matter. Marielle, petite Mimi who liked to tug his curls when he held her, who liked the way he and Montague would zip around her on their toy brooms shouting at each other, petite Mimi who cried when he didn't want to let her touch his books and his toys wouldn't wake up again...
He took a deep sip out of the mug. Butterbeer. He looked up in surprise.
"Why did you call me Evan?" he asked suddenly, remembering the intensity of the woman's surprise at seeing him standing in the doorway. She'd been frightened by him, frightened, and something else. "Last I checked muggleborn Ravenclaws aren't exactly... fond of Slytherins."
"Memory suddenly return? How convenient," she drawled, examining him as though he were some sort of bizarre creature.
"My mother liked to insult you if I remember correctly," he replied as calmly as possible. "I think junky Ravenclaw was one of her favourites."
This was true. He suddenly remembered her shouting at the head healers about letting a junky Ravenclaw mudblood near her daughter on several occasions.
She gave him a long hard look before pouring herself a shot of vodka and knocking it back. She licked her lips and cringed at the taste.
"Shot?"
"I've been drinking all day."
"I can tell," she said wryly. "Looks like you poured salt in your eyes. It's a good think you missed Alan."
"So everybody keeps saying," said Cassius, glancing at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He did look like shit. He looked back up. Florrie stared back at him, always with that strange expression on her face. He looked away, unnerved by her ceaseless staring, and fiddled around with his lighter.
"You forgot the mudblood part," she said suddenly, after a moment of silence.
"Sorry?" he said awkwardly, which was a foreign emotion to him. In fact, this entire situation seemed utterly surreal.
"Mudblood," she repeated, as though he were mentally deficient. "You said she liked to insult me. You forgot the mudblood part. Junky Ravenclaw mudblood."
Cassius looked back at her, feeling slightly less intimidated all of a sudden.
"And you never answered my question," he retorted. "Why did you call me Evan? Hard to believe my uncle would have been on first-name basis with you," he said suspiciously as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "No offence," he added quickly, realizing that it might not be in his favour to offend Alicia's... 'aunt'.
"Chasers," she said suddenly, distantly, as he pulled a cigarette out.
"You want one?" he asked in a muffled voice as he lit the one in his mouth.
She took the pack from him, her eyes brighter - and more frightening - than before.
"Funny," she murmured in a tight voice. "You look just like him. He used to stand behind the greenhouses after class and sneak a drink or a fag when he thought nobody was watching."
Before Cassius could say anything about the strange comments, the door to the bar burst open and a tall Eurasian beauty sauntered in, followed by Carlos, Michael and Angel, two other girls who looked to be related to them, and finally, Alicia.
"See?" said Carlos triumphantly. "I told you we weren't lying - Alicia does have a boyfriend!"
"Oh my god, Alicia, I can't believe you didn't even tell us!" squealed one of the girls, who looked to be around Michael's age. She marched up to Cassius, shoving aside the rest of the motley crew and stuck out her hand. "I'm Carina, Alicia's cousin, and you better treat her right or I'll tear your eyes out, comprende?"
"And I'll do her one better, Warrington - I promise no magic in the world will save you if you mess with Alicia," the Eurasian added with a dark look. Cassius could only imagine this was Skylar, whom Carlos had mentioned was a former Hogwarts student. But she didn't look to be old enough to have graduated, and he definitely would have remembered her if she had. She smirked at him, as though she could feel his confusion, and suddenly, something about her seemed familiar.
"It's alright guys," said Alicia suddenly, looking at him for the first time, her eyes hard and unforgiving. "That isn't my boyfriend."
Suddenly, chaos erupted as the boys started shouting obscenities, threatening to kill the lying sonofabitch as the girls fired questions at Alicia. The bar patrons looked on with mild interest, though it seemed to Cassius that they were rather used to the Spinnet clan, judging by their overall nonchalance.
"Quiet! All of you!" Florrie shouted at last, bringing silence over the bar. "All of you, out unless you're here to serve tables or wash dishes."
"But mum -
"You too, Skylar, this isn't any of your business. Obviously Alicia and... and her friend here are dealing with a little bit of a miscommunication. If Alicia wants to share the dirty details with you all later, she will. Now out before I call your parents!"
"But auntie -
"OUT!"
Cassius watched as the Spinnet clan, followed by Skylar, stomped out of the bar, muttering amongst themselves, only to stand outside, pressing their faces against the windows to watch what would happen.
"Now then. I imagine you two will sort out whatever problem it is you have quietly."
"There's nothing to sort out," said Alicia sharply. "He was just leaving. Weren't you, Warrington," she spat.
"Oh no he isn't," said Florrie loftily. "He'll stay until your parents return. I don't want to be the one who has to explain to your father what all the chaos was about."
"You don't understand!" said Alicia in a panicked voice. "He isn't my boyfriend!"
"Well you'll just have to explain that to your parents yourself," said Florrie. "Alan would kill me if he found out I let him go. And anyway, who said anything about a boyfriend? Cassius here was just telling me he came by to talk to you about some school project."
"I hate you," she hissed at him before glancing up at Florrie. "Alright, fine. But we're going upstairs, if you don't mind."
Florrie looked at them suspiciously for a moment.
"Alright, but no funny business. Your father has a nose for that sort of thing -
"He isn't my boyfriend!"
Florrie gave him another one of her unsettling looks before muttering to herself, "No, he isn't, is he?"
Cassius glanced back at her one last time before Alicia all but shoved him through a set of double doors. She gave him a slight nod as she lit a cigarette from the pack of Chasershe'd left on the bar.
Questions? Comments?
I've noticed I get a lot more hits than reviews so for all those abstaining, please help a struggling writer out! Your reviews motivate me.
PS
So I really wanted Cassius to be a lot more... I guess intense in his reaction, but I had a hard time getting him worked up. I dunno, the characters all sort of write themselves. I suppose that's why he comes off as more depressed/lonely/hurt than angry/jealous. Don't get me wrong, he's definitely pissed and stuff, but I think he's starting to realize Alicia isn't like other girls to him. I know, slow much? *sigh* What can you do... boys will be boys... Not to mention, the whole Florrie thing really throws him off as well so he's just one big jumble of confusion at this point. lol listen to me, analyzing my own characters... but the truth is I'm just as lost as you are as to where this is going. I know how the storyline goes but the characters are really their own thing.
Anyway, leave me a review so I know if things are getting off track, especially character-wise. This is your story as much as it is mine so I want everybody to be happy!