Thanks to Guests, Supergirl818, Etoile Black, Sibel88 and NC for your reviews. Guest (5/15/13) - Jenna Louise Coleman is a way better candidate. Thank god some of us have celebrity knowledge! As for Alicia's dad, your comment actually sparked an interesting idea, but I realized that it would never work. But just in case I find some way to work it into the story, I'm not going to say anything more on the topic... That said, there's another reason why you guys should review besides stroking my ego lol - I get some of my best inspiration from your suggestions or suspicions so do leave comments or critiques!
XOXO
-Coalhaus
PS
I saw a guy the other day who looked exactly like how I pictured Marcus in my head. It would have been totally weird if I were to have taken a picture of him though lol so I'll troll the net until I find something!
"You should go," said Cassius, voice still scratchy from screaming, as Alicia put out the cigarette in the sink. He took the butt from her and she ignored the delicious tingle that shot up her arm as his fingers grazed her own.
She examined him warily as he kept his distance from her, and wondered just what exactly had happened to him since Marcus Flint's father had dismissed them all just over an hour ago.
Her own grandparents had dragged her aside and had expressed their deepest anger and disappointment. Then her grandfather had shuffled off to find Flint Sr. in order to express his apologies and to arrange some sort of way to keep them within his good graces - which, her great-grandmother had not hesitated to remind her, was exactly what old Flint had intended in the first place... all four of them, the Lestranges, the Warringtons, the Dewitts and the Bishops, were from good families. Old families. Rich families. Kicking them out from tonight's event would be punishment enough... but to ban them from any future events hosted by the Flints would be the pinnacle of shame. Flint Sr. knew this and he also knew that all four families would go out of their way to make reparations. Alicia had cringed when she realized that her grandfather would literally have to pay their way out of shame.
But what had happened to Cassius? He looked like he'd just come off the pitch from a Quidditch match... a very fancy Quidditch match, in any case. Alicia had watched him stand stiffly next to his parents as Flint Sr. had chastised them in the corridor earlier on. Both his parents were tall, which was no surprise considering Cassius' height. They were also... unsettling. His mother was... off. Something in the way her large, heavily-lidded eyes had flickered about was disturbing. She moved like some sort of insect, her gaze taking in everything at once though her limbs were stiff, every movement precise and deliberate. And his father... Alicia could see where Cassius had inherited his facial expressions - or lack thereof. While Cassius seemed to have inherited most of his physical features from his mother, his mannerisms reflected his father. They had both stood stiffly side by side, wearing identical frosty masks that gave away nothing. Except for the eyes. Alicia had learned to read Cassius through his eyes, and it seemed that his father was no different. And what Alicia had read in Cassius' father's eyes was pure, unadulterated rage. When the man had caught her staring, his lips had curled unpleasantly, his eyes flashing momentarily in disgust. Alicia had never felt so ashamed to be herself. Half-blood.
In her heart, as she watched Cassius sip on his firewhiskey (how many was that now, anyway?), she knew that Montague had been right. She was no good for him. Something had happened to him after Flint had dismissed them, something bad. And that, she knew, was her fault.
He glanced back at her over his shoulder as though he felt her staring, and she looked away in shame.
"You should probably go before somebody comes looking for you," he said, breaking the silence.
"Yeah," she mumbled. "Probably."
They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, when the doorknob suddenly rattled and Alicia looked away, whipping around to stare at the door in horror.
"It's occupied," Cassius called out.
The rattling stopped and Alicia bit her lip nervously as she quietly approached Cassius, who was still standing by the toilet.
"It reeks in here," she whispered quietly. He nodded curtly and quickly cast a few charms to vanish the odour of smoke and whiskey.
"I'm going to disillusion you," he murmured as he flushed the toilet to rid it of it's ashy contents.
"Okay," she said softly as she felt him tap her with his wand. She shivered at the feeling of being hit over the head with a raw egg. As the charm travelled down her body, it was as though she was being coated in egg yolk. It was quite disgusting.
"I can't see you," he muttered as he walked over to the sink and turned on the tap. "Take your wand and hold it out against my back. That way I'll know if you're still with me and nobody will be able to tell."
"Cassius," she hissed as he turned off the taps. "Your clothes!"
"Shit," he mumbled, staring at himself briefly in the mirror before muttering a quick reparo.
"And your hair!"
The doorknob rattled again.
"Calm down, I'm nearly finished," Cassius snapped in the door's direction.
"What are you doing in there? Waiting for the grass to grow?" the person on the other side complained.
Alicia frowned at the familiar voice. Of course it just had to be Angelina.
"Follow me," Cassius whispered. "And keep your wand on my back."
Alicia took a deep breath and waited for Cassius to open the door.
"Oh. It's you," said Angelina with a scowl. She looked at him suspiciously and glanced at the open window. She flicked her wand and it slammed shut. "You going to stand there all bloody night, Warrington?"
"I dunno, maybe if it makes your life a little it more miserable."
Alicia prodded Cassius in the back and he let out a grunt. Angelina gave him a funny look before shoving him aside as she muttered, "You Slytherins get weirder and weirder every year." Alicia scrambled to the side and narrowly avoided colliding into her. Cassius stepped out of the bathroom and she quickly followed him as Angelina slammed the door behind them. As she tried to take a step forward, she realized in horror that her dress was caught between the door and the frame.
"Cassius!" she hissed, glancing anxiously back at two men who had just rounded the corridor and were headed in their direction. "My dress!"
"For fuck's sake," he muttered before casually leaning against the wall as though waiting to use the bathroom. Alicia held her breath as the two men passed them and nodded in Cassius' direction.
"Ok," Cassius mumbled when the men were out of earshot. "When she opens the door, just get out of the way as quickly as possible."
"What about you?"
"I left my glass in there anyway," he replied softly.
Alicia froze as she heard Angelina's heels clicking against the bathroom floor. Three, two, one -
Alicia jumped aside as soon as the door swung open.
"Warrington!" Angelina barked in surprise. "What the hell are you doing skulking around like that?"
"If you must know," Cassius sneered, "I left my glass in there."
"Of course you did," she sniffed. "If I were you, I'd do something about your breath," she added over her shoulder as she sauntered away. "You smell like a regular at the Hog's Head."
"Bitch," Cassius muttered under his breath. He grunted when Alicia prodded him with the wand again. "Stop doing that," he hissed before falling silent as a little boy accompanied by an older girl walked over in their direction. He quickly walked into the bathroom and retrieved his glass, exiting just as the children had made their way over to where Alicia was standing, still camouflaged and holding her breath to avoid detection. The girl, who looked to be about twelve, looked up at Cassius and blushed when he smiled at her as he held open the door for her. Alicia fought back a laugh as the little girl quickly dragged her younger charge into the bathroom, face flaming in embarrassment.
"Finite."
Alicia shivered as she felt the disillusionment charm recede.
"Now go before the kids come out," he mumbled as he glanced around to make sure nobody was coming. "I'll see you around."
She looked at him hesitantly but he brushed her off with one of his closed expressions. She only took two steps before she felt his warm, callused hand on her bare shoulder, and she felt a shiver of excitement rush through her as he lowered his head to whisper into her ear, his perpetually chapped lips brushing roughly against her. Berkley House, 47 Bramwood Lane, London. Floo tonight.
Cassius watched in frustration as Alicia's grandmother paraded her about amongst a number of irritatingly available - and some significantly older - bachelors. While the events from earlier on in the night were not forgotten, it seemed that certain people were willing to write off the incident for the time being as they conversed - and danced - with Alicia while her grandparents and great-grandmother looked on with approval. His only consolation was that it seemed the Bishops - or rather, Carson Bishop in particular - was being kept at a distance from her. Still. He had to bite his tongue each time he caught a glance of her being manhandled by some preening pervert looking to plump up his bank accounts. He recognized most of the men she'd danced with, and the connection between them was not lost on him... they were all the unfortunate, formerly wealthy victims of the recent stock market plummets that had shocked the wizarding world since the news and rumours of the Dark Lord's return. While they lacked funds, Cassius noticed grimly, they still had their names (and still-wealthy relations) to hold onto... It seemed the DeWitts were willing to take a small hit to their bank accounts if it meant allying their granddaughter with one of the sticky-handed sonsofbitches.
"Cassius," Montague murmured, appearing out of the crowd, "We're being... requested."
He followed Montague's gaze towards the stairs, where Marcus Flint was standing, stoically observing the crowd below. He met Cassius' gaze and gave him a curt nod. Cassius felt a foreboding shiver crawl up his back.
"What about Adrien?"
Montague shook his head.
Cassius followed Montague as they weaved in and out of the crowd until they reached the stairs. Once they pushed their way to the top, past a group of loitering twenty-somethings who looked to be deep into the cups, Flint signalled them to follow him.
They followed Flint in silence, each of them deeply aware of what conversation was undoubtedly about to follow. It was starting.
Flint led them to a portrait of a young girl playing the piano, and he tapped a few of the piano keys with his wand. The portrait swung open, revealing a lounging room full of the usual exotic luxuries Flint Sr. seemed to be fond of.
Flint summoned a house elf and it served them a stiff glass of Ogden's each.
"Warrington, roll us a spliff," said Flint, passing Cassius a familiar wooden box that he hadn't seen since Flint had left school.
They sat in silence, watching the flames flickering in the fireplace until Cassius finished rolling and sparked the joint. The sweet scent of weed and hash filled the air. Muggles were stupid, Cassius thought, as he felt a familiar haze blanket his mind. Why would anybody classify marijuana as an illegal substance? There were thousands of other more dangerous plants, like devil's snare or -
"There's going to be an Azkaban bust," said Flint suddenly, interrupting Cassius' thoughts as casually as though he were remarking on the weather. He looked up and stared at his former captain, who was twirling his wand around his fingers as he swirled his drink in the glass with his other hand.
"Why are you telling us this?"
"Because. You two'll be graduating soon and They'll be looking for new recruits."
Cassius glanced uncertainly at Montague, who looked just as disturbed by the prospects.
"What about Adrien?"
Flint scoffed at the mention of his potential future brother-in-law.
"Pucey's a pussy," he said. "Time and place for everything. They're not interested in him now."
"But they're interested in us. And are you -
Flint shook his head, looking just as unhappy as Cassius felt.
"No," he said. "But father is."
No surprise there...the Flints were one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Flint Sr. had been close with the Dark Lord since their school days. It was a well-known fact.
"Why us?" Cassius asked, mentally tallying up the number of non-purebloods that made up the Warrington ancestry. At least five that he could think of, two half bloods and three with mixed blooded heritage. His mother's side had been pure, but that didn't really matter... he wasn't a Rosier. He was a Warrington. And the Warringtons were not one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They had not been pure since at least the mid 19th century, even if they certainly continued to carry on like they were... Though, he snickered silently, the Rosiers were not exactly one of the Sacred anymore either... In fact, the Twenty-Eight had dwindled down to something like the Eight in the last sixty year's since the list's publication.
"Because you're the best and the brightest on our side," said Flint, interrupting Cassius' musings, sarcastically making air quotes with his fingers. "Father wanted me to let you know that they'll be looking into you two when you graduate. For now, he wants you to keep an eye out at Hogwarts. Apparently Umbridge is looking into starting some sort of... I think father called it the Inquisitorial Squad. But she won't be able to push that through as long as Dumbledore's around."
Flint shut his eyes as Montague passed him the spliff again. He inhaled deeply and unleashed a cloud of smoke like an angry dragon.
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"What do you do?" Cassius pressed.
Flint let out a barking laugh.
"I play Quidditch, I get drunk, I shag some fit birds, and occasionally I'm father's messenger boy." He took another hit off the spliff. "The plus side to being nothing but a dumb athlete," he said, eyes glittering sharply, "Is that I'm not trusted to be able to carry out much else. That's where you two will undoubtedly come in." He passed Cassius the spliff. "So I'd start failing my NEWTs if I were you two."
Cassius inhaled sharply and glanced at Montague, who drained his firewhiskey in a quick gulp.
"Circe," Montague muttered, looking less than pleased. "So who else is supposed to be on this bloody squad?"
Flint shrugged.
"A few youngers. Malfoy and Nott obviously. Bulstrode, Parkinson. Crabbe and Goyle. The Burke twins."
Cassius made a face.
"So basically a bunch of bloody twats. What's with all the fifth years?" Montague scoffed.
"Potter," said Cassius and Flint simultaneously.
Of course Potter. Everything came down to Potter in the end, didn't it? The Boy-Who-Lived versus the Dark Lord, Part Two (or was it three, if one included the Diggory fiasco)... And it looked like he was going to be sucked into this mess, whether he wanted to be or not. He frowned as he remembered his father's words... Stay alive. He was his father's only son. If he died, there would only be his aunt or his two cousins, both girls, left to inherit. Cassius leaned back into his seat and smiled bitterly. He could just picture his father's face upon hearing that his only son had died. And then there was Alicia. Would they even be... whatever they were in a year's time? It seemed they had a pattern of breaking up and making up... And of course, there was Carson Bishop. He knew Alicia hadn't yet shagged him but a bloke could only wait for so long. He dug his nails into his palm as he thought about the blonde-haired twat touching her. But Bishop was the boyfriend. Bishop had the - the right. He took another sharp drag off the end of the spliff and put out the roach. He would have to do something about this. What had he been thinking, telling her to run into that prick's open arms? And what if she'd done it? But no. She'd come back to him, he was sure of it. She'd said so herself... she'd always be looking back for him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was in such deep shit. And where was that damned house elf? He should have eaten more during the reception... his stomach churned unpleasantly -
"Fuck! Jesus, Warrington, give us a warning next time, will you? Evanesco."
Cassius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a groan as he looked down at his shoes in disgust. What a bloody night.
"You going to be sick again?" asked Montague with a small smirk, as he snatched the glass of water and a napkin from Flint's house elf, who'd appeared with a loud crack upon being summoned.
"No," Cassius muttered. "Just didn't eat enough."
"I can tell," his friend replied wryly. "You never get green out."
"Here," said Flint, handing him a glass of some sort of canary yellow liquid. "It'll fix you right up. I use it all the time if I'm... er, up late before practice."
Cassius took the glass from him and eyed it suspiciously. The liquid seemed to be in a constant state of motion, swirling over and over on itself in the glass. He let out another groan, just picturing it churning in his stomach.
"Stop being such a bitch about it," said Montague lightly. "Just drink it. Can't be much worse than hurling, can it?"
Just drink it. You've already been tortured once. What's a second time?
Fuck off!
Shit. I'm going to puke again.
There was something terrible about sitting in absolute silence in a flying carriage with three old people who were mad at you, Alicia mused as she stared out of the windows and into the darkness outside. She kept her thoughts to herself as the carriage soared through the night, listening attentively for any cues that might indicate that her grandparents were no longer as furious or disappointed or humiliated as they had been when they'd all left Flint Manor. Unfortunately, her grandmother continued to periodically sigh in cycles of a minute and a half while her great-grandmother continued to tsk in tandem. Her grandfather remained dead silent, though occasionally Alicia felt his gaze flicker towards her before focusing on something else.
Once they arrived at the Villa, granny disappeared straight to her chambers, announcing loudly that she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Alicia stood in the corridor and looked awkwardly at her grandmother and grandfather.
"I must say, Alicia," said her grandmother after a moment of silence, ungluing her lips that had been pursed into a thin white line for the duration of the carriage ride, "That had to be the single most embarrassing incident this family has ever experienced, with the exception of your birth -
Alicia flushed in humiliation, felt the blood rush from her heart to her head, and she fought back the urge to scream.
"She tried to cruciate me, grandmother," she spat, clenching her fists in fury.
"You should not have provoked her!" the older woman replied. "Do you have any idea what that family is capable of? Who they are?"
"You could have been seriously hurt," her grandfather added gravely, angrily. "Never you mind the financial and social consequences - you must learn to hold your temper! Out of all the people in that room you chose to brawl with, you chose a Lestrange -
"I know who she is!" Alicia exclaimed. "I know who her father is, who her aunt and uncle are -
"Than you should have restrained yourself! These are dangerous times, Alicia, whether you realize it or not. And people like that - families like that are not people you need to involve yourself with! For merlin's sake, what were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all? If there is anything you need to understand, it is this - everything in this Society is based on blood, on family, whether you like it or not. Your actions effect both your grandmother and me and it subtracts - quite considerably - from your mother's already tainted reputation. It certainly does you no favours. Let me tell you what the problem is with your generation - none of you have any idea about actions and consequences. You all think you exist in these perfectly isolated little bubbles where your actions have an effect only on you. This isn't true! You think the Lestrange girl won't write to her father telling him about this?"
"It's not like he'll be able to do anything about it!"
"That doesn't matter! For every Death Eater or supporter captured during the War, there are probably three others roaming free."
"So what?" Alicia snapped. "It's not like they're going to go on a let's-hunt-down-Alicia spree. I'm sure they have better things to do with their precious time," she said sarcastically.
"You watch your tone," her grandmother jumped in. "You should be thanking us, you horrid child -
"Thanking you? Thanking you for what? You hate me! The only reason I'm even here is because you haven't anybody else! Your own daughter hates you! Look at you! Do you even have friends? All those fake people, smiling and prattling on about how lovely it is to see you, when I bet they were all just talking shit the entire time we were in that damned corridor with bloody old Flint. All you do is put me down, put my parents down - you wish I wasn't even born. Maybe Lestrange should have used an Avada. That would have just made your day, I bet. No more bastard, right? The only reason you're even angry is because you had to pay your way out of shame. Do you even have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? I did everything you bloody asked of me - I danced with all those gold-digging perverts, I laughed and smiled and had stupid, vapid conversations about what material is in for the next goddamn Season. I screwed up once! Actually, I didn't even bloody screw up! Some crazy bitch tried to torture me and my - my boyfriend tried to protect me. I didn't even do anything! And all I get from you is you horrid child?! You know what, gran? Thank you. Thank you for showing me that this was a crazy goddamn idea. I never should have come here. Mum was right - you just - you're just plain awful. Happy fucking Christmas by the way. I hope it was a good one."
Apparating while wearing heels was a terrible idea.
Alicia yanked her foot out of the grass, for the heel of her shoe had been drilled into the soil by her slightly less than perfect landing in the flower beds in front of the owl post office rather than on the sidewalk. She sighed. At least it wasn't snow. If there was one good thing about Avalon it was the perfect climate year-round that she was never really allowed to enjoy because the "sun makes you look dark".
She wandered into the postal office, scraping off clumps of dirt against the floor, and walked over to the reception desk. The tired, middle-aged clerk looked at her in shock. Yes, she mused silently, she probably did look a sight in her slightly soiled debutante dress, standing in the dead silent, empty postal office at three in the morning on Yule.
"How may I help you?" the clerk said, staring at her in astonishment.
"One passage by Floo."
"Domestic or international?"
Alicia frowned. Was Avalon to England considered domestic?
"Five sickles to jolly old England or anywhere within Avalon," the clerk drawled. "You can consult the chart if you're headed anywhere else. I'll also need to see some identification."
She fished out five sickles from her clutch as well as her apparition licence and handed it to the clerk, who in exchange handed her a little brown envelope with the words Floo Powder - Domestic written on it.
"Okay, Miss Spinnet, you have yourself a good Christmas," the clerk called out as Alicia walked past the rows of hooting owls towards the two fireplaces off to the side of the room.
"Thanks," she muttered under her breath. "You too. Berkley House, 47 Bramwood Lane, London."
Alicia shut her eyes as she was sucked up the fireplace, her heard thumping madly against her chest as fireplace after fireplace whipped past her. Suddenly, she felt herself being sucked downwards, and braced herself for her landing.
It never came.
She let out a scream as she felt herself falling into darkness, her limbs reacting to her free-fall by trying to move, but it was like trying to wade through molasses though she fell fast. Suddenly, she stopped falling, and found herself suspended upside-down midair (or what felt like midair - one of her heels had fallen off at some point and she did not hear it land). She found herself now completely immobile, though she was able to move her eyes and mouth. Her eyes were of no use in the obscurity. She made good use of her mouth.
She screamed for what felt like an eternity, though she quickly tired of it, for her dress was now hanging upside down, the layers of silk suffocating her while the blood rushed to her head. She felt tears of fear roll down her cheeks, and wondered what on earth had possessed her to take up Cassius' offer of visiting what he had once referred to as the Mistress House in a past conversation. He was a Warrington, and worse, he was the nephew of known Death Eaters. What psychotic trap had she fallen into? But no... nobody could act as well as that - he hadn't set her up... had he?
"Jesus fucking christ!"
A blinding light suddenly illuminated the room and she let out a piercing scream as the free-fall suddenly continued. Was this Death? Was this the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel that everybody talked about?
She landed softly on her bare feet, her other shoe lost in the process of falling again, and she let out a scream when she felt somebody grab her from behind.
"Stop, Alicia - fuck, babe, it's me -
"Let me go!" she shrieked, gasping for air as though she were being choked. She let out a strangled sob when she was forcibly turned around, and Cassius stared down at her, eyes blazing with rage.
"What the fuck was that?" she shouted, half blinded by her tears. She looked around her for the first time and found herself standing in a small windowless, doorless room - a cell.
"It was my fault," he said hoarsely, gripping her tightly by the shoulders. "I just got home - it was my fault, I - this house is protected - if Tally hadn't told me -
His grip loosened and he ran a hand through his hair, his face expressing his frustration and anger.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I - to be honest, I don't really know this house completely yet. I should have known. I should have fucking known something like this -
"What the hell is it?" she snapped, wiping angrily at her tears. "And get me the fuck out of here - this - this is sick -
Cassius nodded quickly, apologetically, and took her by the hand. She flinched at his touch, and his eyes flickered momentarily before his face took on its usual neutral expression.
"You need to touch me to get through," he said briskly, his voice back to normal, though still rough as though he were sick. He took her by the hand again, firmly, and walked through the wall. It was like going to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
The other side of the wall led to a large finished room with a dark, gleaming wooden floor and low ceilings. There was no indication whatsoever of a fucked up holding chamber being at the other side of the magnificent mirror behind them. It was like any other living room or whatever it was. She noticed the bar at the other side of the room.
"My shoes," she said suddenly, remembering that she was barefoot.
Cassius held out his other hand, and she noticed for the first time that he was holding her little white heels.
"They look like they hurt," he said curtly, before leading up a small fight of stairs. "And for the record, I wasn't expecting that to happen. I really didn't know about that... room. Tally - my house elf - told me that there was an intruder when I got home. I - to be honest, I sort of forgot you were - that I'd told you to come."
"And that happens every time?" Alicia said in a deadpan voice.
"Er, no. There's this book where I have to write in the names of anybody who's allowed to get past the usual wards, and the date and time that they're allowed to breach them. Right now it's just me, my father and Graham -
"Your father?" Alicia exclaimed, horrified.
"I just took him off for tonight - today," said Cassius hastily as he led her into the main floor of the house. "Like I said... I sort of forgot you were - well, yeah."
"You forgot? You fucking forgot? What if you dad was here - Cassius, you fucktard -
"I bloody said I was sorry didn't I!" he said heatedly.
"What if -
"What if, what if, what if," he said impatiently. "He wasn't here, alright, so let's just get over it -
"I thought I was going to die, you insensitive git!"
Cassius stopped and turned to glare frostily at her, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Well you didn't, alright? Let's just move past this, I've had a bloody shitty enough night as it is -
"You've had a shitty night?" she echoed in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Don't push me right now," he responded coldly. "If all you're going to do is bitch at me about how fucking terrible your night's been, then just go home. You don't even know the meaning of the word terrible, so just stop. I need to take a shower. You can stay or go. Quite frankly at this point, I'm starting not to care."
"You arse -
"By the way, the hem of your dress is filthy."
Alicia threw her shoes at him as he walked away.
"Go home, Alicia," he called out as he went up the stairs, "I'm bad news."
"Fuck you, Cassius."
The scalding water was soothing, and Cassius groaned as he felt his muscles relax for the first time in forty-eight hours. The last two days at the Manor had been hell, what with both his parents hanging about, questioning his every thought and movement. Somehow, over the past few days he'd come to grow quite attached to Berkley house - much more so than he'd ever thought possible. It jarred him to think that he didn't quite know all of it's secrets yet.
What if his father had been home... the thought swirled around in his mind over and over again, and he hissed as he turned the faucet so that the water temperature rose a few more degrees.
It was too much of a close call. He was an idiot. He'd been drinking too much lately. Smoking had thrown him over the edge. He hadn't greened out since fourth year, but then again, he hadn't been drinking like a fish at the time either...
How could he have forgotten? He should have known there was some sort of fucked up security measure to deal with intruders. It was a good thing that the end result hadn't been tragic... the Big House in France had a very special sort of punishment to deal with intruders.
He was an idiot. A fucking idiot. She could have been hurt, or killed, or worse. He shuddered at the thought of his father stumbling upon her in that room, suspended upside down, the skirt of her dress hanging by her head, legs and white lace panties and garters out for all to see.
He felt a shudder of lust rush through him for a second before his thoughts were sobered by the realization that indeed, his father could have popped by at any time, only to have come across her.
God, was he ever sore. His entire body screamed for rest. Alicia had probably gone home, and bed was only a few feet away... He shut his eyes and massaged his temples as he stepped out of the shower and onto the fluffy mat. He smiled inwardly at the feeling. It was always one of his little pleasures, that fresh just-out-of-the-shower feeling, followed by the first step onto the soft bathmat. He wiggled his toes, almost happily.
She was sound asleep.
Cassius stared down at her, astonished by the sight of this dishevelled looking princess on his bed with soles blackened from walking about barefoot. Her white silk dress was crumpled like any old t shirt, the hem torn and dirty, and her face streaked with mascara and dried tears. She clutched her shoes and gloves still in one hand.
He swallowed hard, uncertain of how to react.
"Alicia," he said loudly.
She let out a groan, but did not stir.
He approached the bed and looked down at her prone figure.
"You're just a mess," he mumbled to himself. He found himself plucking her shoes out of her hand and tossing them on the floor next to her bed. She shifted, but her eyes remained closed.
He ran his hand over her head and began to pluck out the the tiny little pearls in her hair one by one. They'd been held up by the sheer force of magic, but slipped away as easily as though he were plucking at thin air. She let out a small sigh, and he ran his hand down her bare shoulders until he reached the lace-up back of the bodice. He licked his dry lips, frowning absentmindedly at the tang of blood, and steeled himself for what came next. He tugged gently on the bow and the bodice loosened up as she breathed in gently, deeply in her sleep.
It occurred to him then that she might not like the fact that he was in the process of undressing her, and his hand hesitated for a moment over her back. He slid it back up to her shoulder and he gave her a gentle shake. She let out a groan again, mumbling something in coherent, before rolling onto her side and curling up into a little ball. Cassius felt himself stiffen as her dress slipped down a touch when she rolled over, just barely revealing one of her high round breasts to his exhausted eyes.
"Alicia," he said in a strangled voice, shaking her more roughly this time after pulling up her bodice. She would probably kill him if she awoke with her dress pooled by her waist. "Alicia. Wake up -
"Urgh, not now mum -
"It's Cassius," he said, shaking her again.
Her eyes peeled open slowly, and she blinked at the lights, eying him in confusion.
"Cassius - what the -
She sat up suddenly and her hands flew up to her chest when she realized that her dress was undone. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of him, standing in front of her in nothing but his boxers.
"You fell asleep," he explained guiltily, which was a foreign emotion. She stared at him like he was an idiot and he felt a flush creep up his neck. Her eyes widened.
"You're blushing!" she exclaimed. "You're actually blushing -
"Fuck off," he muttered.
"No, this is - this is news! I don't think I've ever seen you express more than three emotions before - why were you undressing me anyway? So what if I fell asleep? Trying to cop a feel, were you?" She yawned and flopped down onto her back, still clutching the front of her dress against her chest, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
"I thought you were mad at me," he commented, noticing the smile.
"I am - I was," she said. "But... you're right. It's not like you meant for that to happen. And... well, yeah. I didn't come here to fight with you."
This time, she blushed, and Cassius gave her a small, tired grin.
"So why did you come then? You love arguing with me," he replied seriously, looking down at her. Her eyes were shut, and she looked to be once again at peace.
"I fought with my grandparents," she said after a moment of silence.
He frowned. She opened her eyes and smirked at him.
"I guess I came for you too."
"Hah," he snorted, poking her in the side. "Not with those feet, you didn't."
"What's wrong with my - oh."
"Oh," he echoed with a mocking grin. He yawned, but reached down and scooped her into his arms like a small child while she squealed in protest.
"Stop kicking or I'll drop you," he said seriously as he stood up and looked down at her. She stared into his eyes, looking terrified for a brief moment before her face relaxed. "You know I'd never drop you," he said quietly as he carried her towards the bathroom.
"I really did think I was going to die," she mumbled, shutting her eyes again as he kicked open the bathroom door. "When I was falling I mean."
He felt a tight knot deep inside his chest, but he brushed it away and looked back down at her dirty tear-stained face.
"I won't let that happen either," he said in a strained voice, recalling the night's events as though it were some sort of drug-fuelled dream. He set her down and she smiled as she looked around the bathroom.
"Nice place," she said, running her hand over the marble countertop as she held up her dress with the other. "And it's all yours?"
It could be yours.
He nodded stiffly.
She turned around and looked at him shyly.
"I look like a witch," she said, sounding embarrassed. He looked at her in confusion.
"You are a witch," he replied, frowning.
She giggled.
"Oh that's right. Sometimes I forget that you're a... a pure blood."
They both fell silent and she looked away, biting her lower lip slightly.
"I didn't mean that in a bad way," she said awkwardly.
"I know," he replied, a cold feeling suddenly seizing his heart as his father's face loomed in his mind.
He walked past her without looking at her and stood by the tub.
"Bath or shower?"
"Here?" she said sounding surprised. "Now?"
"No offense," he said lightly, "But you look like shit."
She whacked him on the back, and he winced.
"Circe, I forget you play Quidditch sometimes," he muttered.
"Well don't you forget it," she replied snottily. "Ooh, that smells lovely - I love lavender."
"You should come to France with me sometime," he said absentmindedly as the water in the tub rose steadily higher. "There's lavender all around my house in Aix."
She looked back at him, a funny expression on her face, and he held his breath, realizing the stupidity of his comment. Of course she would not come to France with him. How could she? She was Alicia Spinnet, and he was Cassius Warrington, and all this was one bloody stupid dream.
He turned around violently and stared stormily at the rising water, willing his mind to think of nothing but the smell of lavender bubble bath. It took him a minute to realize that the shower had been turned on. He looked over his shoulder to see what she was up to and his mouth went terribly, terribly dry.
He looked down at her dress, which was crumpled in a heap by the sink where she'd been standing a minute earlier. His gaze quickly traveled to the shower, and through the opaque glass he could make out her naked form, could actually see the silhouette of her hands ghosting over herself as she indulged in the steaming water rising out of the top of the shower stall.
"What are you doing?" he croaked out.
"I didn't want to get the bath all dirty with my feet," she said in an equally unusual tone. "Turn around. I'm going to come out now."
Cassius raised an eyebrow.
"It's not like I haven't seen it all before," he deadpanned, recalling the locker room incident when she'd dropped the shower curtain at her feet, revealing herself to him for the first time.
"This is different," she explained. "I'm - I'm washing myself."
"Then what's the point of a bath?"
"Men," she huffed. "A bath is for relaxing -
"You realize it's nearly three in the morning."
"Well I'm wide awake."
"I'm not turning around."
"Then I'm not coming out."
"You can't stay there all night, you know."
"I can too."
"So you're telling me you came all this way for a shower."
"It was your idea - I look like shit, remember?"
He slid open the glass door as she shrieked in surprise, rushing to cover herself with her hands.
"No, you don't," he said in hoarse voice as he looked at her wet figure, half blinded by desire.
"Cassius," she breathed.
"You're beautiful," he said harshly, angrily. "You're fucking beautiful."
And I can't have you.
He slammed the glass door shut, his hand shaking with rage.
"FUCK!"
Questions? Comments?
Did Cassius seem a little out of character to you guys? I think I just felt weird writing him as being so.. human I guess lol because Alicia's usually the emotional one, but you all let me know how you feel.
PS
I'm evil, I know. You all totally thought they were going to get it on!
Maybe next time?!
READ AND REVIEW!
XOXO