Hey guys, here's the next instalment. Thanks to Anon, NC, Etoile Black, Liz, D3AtHlYhAlLoW5 and Aatp.
For all you M/K fans, I've been pondering doing a story for them once I'm done with this one, as well as a more complete Evan-Florrie, but I'm not sure which one to begin with... maybe a vote is in order?
PS - Liz; Alicia's attitude towards sex doesn't really come from any childhood trauma, but rather from her own guilt in regards to both Carson and Cassius and her lack of 'healthy' relationships in general with the boys she's slept with, since she was basically peer-pressured into having sex in the first place by her hoodrat friends at home, being the last virgin in their group. But of course, these characters are all just as much yours as they are mine so think what you will of them!
Anyway, thanks again for all the reviews and hopefully you'll like this one just as much!
"Restricted section?" Madame Pince sniffed suspiciously, eying the Warrington boy's Slytherin crest warily. She'd seen too many students sneak their way through the school's administrative cracks to gain access to some of the darkest book the wizarding world had to offer to not hold at least some distaste towards Slytherins, even the academic ones like young Mr. Warrington, who stood silently and stock still before her. The old librarian frowned as she examined the boy's access pass, signed by both professors Babbling and Vector. Extended study of blood magic indeed! But both professors were of the strict variety when it came to granting access to the restricted section and so Madame Pince grudgingly led the young Mr. Warrington into the depths of her kingdom and past the sacred rope, into the part of the library which she held most dear.
The young man thanked her with the usual cool politeness characteristic of class, and as she watched him disappear into the stacks, Madame Pince suddenly had the strangest sensation of deja-vu, and she found herself thinking back to that dark period of time some twenty odd years earlier when the school corridors had been roamed by students now long-deceased or mysteriously disappeared.
Blood magic indeed...
There are no known recorded cases of genetically-inherited incubism or succubuism through non-pure unions, though many legends suggest that the half-blooded children of these creatures (called cambion) do indeed inherit the magical abilities of the incubus/succubus parent, either in part or in full. It is a commonly held belief that the halfblooded female children of incubi or the male children of succubi act as genetic carriers, and therefore do not possess any of the actual magical abilities of a full blooded incubus/succubus. However, it is equally suspected that cambion, whether they are carriers or have in fact inherited the magical abilities of their sire, tend to exhibit certain physical or emotional traits associated with their full-blooded sires. These characteristics include hypersexuality, refined physical features, an uncanny slyness or cleverness used for seductive purposes (not always of a sexual nature), and a volatile spectrum of emotions that may often border on extreme. These characteristics are also often associated with veela, and some theories propose that veela and succubi are descended from some unknown common ancestor. See veela, Volume 3. These suspicions regarding cambion have not been validated due to the lack of willing subjects, however they have been recorded based on observations of children who are supposedly descended from true incubi and succubi. The most famous suspected cambion is the great warlock Merlin. See Merlin, Volume 5. The Rosier family of Southern France is one of the most infamous examples of a Western European family long suspected of being descended from an incubus, Roland Rosier I (see Volume 5), who is a known character even in muggle mythology, in which he is simply known as Rosier.
However, unlike veela, true incubi and succubi are able to disassociate their souls from their bodies and it is this manner that they often preform their depraved acts upon their prey. Pregnancy through intercourse with the creature's disassociated form is possible, however an unnamed incubus, in a rare interview in 1774, admitted to a healer friend that the incubus chooses whether or not to impregnate his prey. If he so chooses, it seems the prey undergoes a forced ovulation. It is unknown if succubi function in a similar manner, choosing whether or not to become pregnant by forcing themselves to ovulate. Prolonged exposure to either creature in their disassociated form results in fragile health and even death. This effect does not occur from exposure to their usual, complete human form (in which body and soul are attached). It is unknown whether or not these creatures maintain their same abilities in their associated form, or whether the abilities are restricted to their disassociated form.
If characteristics of incubism and succubism may be genetically inherited by half-blooded children, then the magical abilities are said to only be able to be inherited by magical children of the appropriate sex (that is, if the father is an incubus then all female cambion will act as carriers, while all male children will inherit true incubism, and vice-versa in regards to succubi and their male cambion and female children). If half-blooded incubi and succubi do exist, then it is quite probable that their evolution is similar to that of their full-blooded relatives. Full incubi and succubi do not come into their powers until puberty, at which point they gradually master their abilities until adulthood, though as children they exhibit the same emotional and physical characteristics mentioned above in regards to cambion carriers.
Another curiosity which has led many researchers to believe that cambion do indeed exist, be they carriers or full inheritors, is the fact that many families who are supposedly descended from incubi and succubi tend to report slightly higher than average occurrences of squibs, as well as cases of the infamous autoimmune disorder, Faust's Disease. While the reported numbers are not significantly higher than average, it is suspected that the number of cases are actually quite underreported, due to the stigma associated with the fatal childhood illness, particularly amongst older established families within wizarding society worldwide.
Faust's Disease. Cassius' hand quivered over the dreaded two words as he was suddenly thrust back into his childhood. He remembered eavesdropping on the hushed whispers between his extended family members (those who were left mostly untouched by the ravages of war, in any case), and the late night or early morning fights between his parents as he cradled Marielle's tiny sleeping figure in his arms after one of her... spells, as his aunt had liked to call them.
Spells.
Those little spells had torn his family apart and had ripped the life out of his baby sister before she was old enough to hop onto her first toy broom. He'd spent a lot of lonely nights in his room at his aunt's house once things with Marielle had gone from bad to worse, and he'd spent just as many nights at Montague's after she finally died, leaving their parents to sort themselves out as best as they could. He hadn't heard those two words since those dark days - hadn't actually remembered that it was called anything beside's Mimi's spells, but there it was in plain writing, in the awful old book that smelled of mothballs, deep in the depths of Hogwarts' library. Faust's Disease.
He slammed the book shut, and winced as dust flew into the air and attacked his sinuses.
The author had been right, of course, on all counts. And the illness was underreported... the Rosier family tree was littered with children who'd been born squibs and blasted off by a furious relative, and worse, a significantly higher number of children who'd died before the age of eleven, most by the age of five. Marielle had been unlucky in that she'd exhibited her magical abilities early, just like Cassius had. The difference was that while Cassius' powers had gotten stronger and more controlled as he aged, he hadn't suffered for it - the more Marielle had exhibited magic, the weaker her body became, until weakness and exhaustion was replaced by crippling pain and fear, which in turn forced her to exhibit more magic in an even more uncontrolled, violent manner. And so the cycle had continued over two years until she'd wasted away into nothing. Cassius could still feel the flutter of her last breath against his cheek.
He hadn't come here for this... hadn't expected to stumble across his childhood so unexpectedly in this horrid, musty old book of dark magical creatures. Hell, he hadn't even expected to stumble across magical creatures when he'd first stepped foot into the library some three hours earlier... he of course knew about his infamous maternal ancestor, Roland I, and his father had dismissed his late uncles as "arrogant, sex-crazed lunatic beasts" on several occasions, but he hadn't ever seriously thought about the fact that his late uncles were, in all likelihood, incubi. It also explained the inordinate number of rape charges slapped against all of them over the course of their violent careers as Death Eaters, with the exception of his uncle Evan, who'd apparently spent the greater part of his last five years of life creating a complex series of blood magic curses with the sole purpose of making sure that nobody's sticky hands could get ahold of his most beloved property - or properties, rather... his woman and unborn child.
Cassius' research thus far had brought him to two conclusions: first, his uncle had not invoked a single curse known to existence - it was a creation of his own making, a patchwork of a handful of curses that existed on their own, but not all together, and Florrie had only mentioned undergoing to the excrutiating experience of being cursed once. Usually, a series of curses were cast once the initial branding occurred. Second, the family motto delapsus resurgam suddenly took on a whole new meaning now that he was acutely aware of his incubus heritage. Had one of his ancestors learned to keep their souls permanently disassociated from their living bodies? Not that he had any indication his uncle had done such a thing - the family motto was simply part of the family crest, after all, so it didn't mean anything that it was stamped onto Florrie's back - but Evan's portrait had been startling in it's... realness. It was something that had bothered Cassius since their encounter. Portraits were merely reflections of the central figure's life, weren't they? But Evan had mentioned he'd painted it himself, which already made for an even more accurate portrait than a portrait done by another person. But what if he'd found a way to project his soul into his painting?
He shook his head as he left the library. Too much information swam through his mind. What he really needed right now was a spliff.
He followed the tide of students exiting the library as Madame Pince's shrill voice echoed down the corridor, barking at students to hurry up so that she could lock up the library for the night. He checked his watch. Eight o'clock, sharp. He had an hour until curfew, which gave him just enough time to pop outside and back without having to rush.
The East Tower was the unofficial kingdom of Hogwarts' potheads because it was the only tower located away from classrooms, and for some reason it had a second stairwell which made get-aways rather convenient.
An hour later as he made his way back from the East Tower, he noticed a suspicious concentration of fifth years in the otherwise deserted seventh floor corridor, making their way towards the stairs in groups of twos and threes. It might have been the fact that he was quite lit, or the fact that he'd become a paranoid sonofabitch in the last couple weeks, but whatever it was, he had the distinct impression that something was up - especially since they all fell silent as he strode past them, despite the fact that they were little clusters of students from different houses who upon first glance had nothing to do with one another except for being in the same year.
Suddenly, he heard the distinct voice of the last person in Hogwarts that he wanted to have a run in with, until it too fell silent, and Cassius could feel the burn of Alicia's stare in the back of his head. Where had she come from? There were nothing but empty classrooms in this corridor, and then there was the East Tower at the end. None of these suspiciously quiet groups of students had been at the Tower. He suddenly thought back to the holidays, when Flint had talked to him about the Inquisition Squad - or was it Inquisitorial Squad? Not that it mattered what it was called. But he remembered something, a funny little detail that struck him just then as being odd. Fifth years. There were to be fifth years on the Squad. Because of Potter.
Cassius quickly glanced over his shoulder despite himself, and Alicia stared back at him with a hypogriff-caught-before-a-train expression on her face, and a cold shiver quickly travelled up his spine. He wasn't just stoned. Something was going on.
He recalled the getaway they'd made back in September from this very same corridor. He glanced at the wall across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, where there had once been a tiny dwarf-sized door, and if he hadn't known better, he would have thought he was crazy because he knew that a dozen pair of eyes had stealthily flickered towards him at that very second, before the corridor was suddenly filled with chatter as though nothing strange was going on.
Cassius kept walking, and he sensed rather than heard Alicia's footsteps approach him as he made his way down the stairs. Almost subconsciously, he found himself taking a detour from the route to his common room and instead made his way towards the music rooms, even as prefects herded students towards the main arteries of the building so that they could clear the corridors as quickly as possible.
He felt Alicia following him, until eventually they were alone. They walked in silence, keeping a distance from each other, and Cassius clenched his fists by his sides as he thought about what to say.
He hadn't spoken a word to her in three weeks, had hardly breathed in her direction for fear of doing something stupid he would regret, like shake her in the middle of the Great Hall and demand that she somehow turn back time and fix everything.
Fix. As if they could be fixed. They'd been broken in the first place. The only thing they could ever be was more broken. It had taken him too long to realize that.
They stared at each other uncomfortably, a heavy silence hanging between them like the most solid of iron curtains. Alicia hadn't been alone in his presence since that day three weeks earlier when he'd more or less told her to stay out of his life. She hadn't been in her right state of mind since. She'd thrown herself into Quidditch practice with such gusto that even Angelina had practically forced her to take a break for fear that she would kill herself with exhaustion. She'd even thrown herself at Carson, investing herself into their relationship for the first time since they'd started going together, desperate for some form of human contact that could alleviate the pain of losing Cassius. The sex was good, but it just wasn't the same, and she always left his dormitory with a cold sense of loathing and disgust after the initial euphoria had worn off.
D.A practice was another outlet. What had started off in her mind as simply a substitute for the ridiculous class that Umbridge 'taught' turned into something more over the past three weeks. Since news of the Azkaban Breakout, everybody had thrown themselves a lot more seriously into their work, and practices were starting to turn into regular duels that sometimes seemed to border on dangerous. Alicia had improved on her already infamous repertoire of hexes, while some like Neville Longbottom simply skyrocketed in skill. The sad part was, they all knew that the fun and games of duelling with friends was simply preparation for what was to come.
But how was she to explain any of this to Cassius, who continued to stare silently at her, waiting for her to speak... She knew he knew something was up - she'd caught his suspicious stare, the way he'd stared at the Room of Requirements (as she now knew it), the way his sweeping, calculating glance scrutinized the odd number of fifth years dawdling in the seldom used corridor. He wouldn't have led her all this way either without reason, not after three weeks of utter silence, and she knew that neither of them would be leaving this room any time soon, not without some sort of explanation.
Only... she didn't owe him anything. Not in regards to the D.A. In fact - and she'd thought about this a lot over the past three weeks - she didn't owe him anything, period. She'd desperately clung to the fact that Carson was her boyfriend, and that she had a right - a right, dammit - to sleep with him without being judged by Cassius.
So... so why did she feel so dirty under his cold stare? Why did she always cry after every time she and Carson made love? And that's what it was. Making love. Carson was tender. He held her and stroked her and coaxed her open like the petals of a flower under the sun, and while he kissed her and murmured softly into her ear about how good she felt, she sometimes managed to make herself believe that everything was okay.
What they did not do was fuck. Cassius liked to fuck. He liked to tease her and make her squirm, grinned smugly at the way she begged him to let her come while he kept a firm grip on her hair and on her side. And yet she never felt more in love, more whole, than when he grazed his teeth against the back of her neck, whispering filthily and forcibly tilting her chin so that she could look into his eyes as he ground himself against her.
She didn't owe him anything.
They were nothing but an illusion. Illusions were not real. Carson was real. She didn't owe him a thing.
He spoke first, his eyes hard and unfeeling, and his cold steady voice carried across the small music room and made her feel uncomfortably small. What have you gotten yourself into?
But she knew him, more than she cared to, and she caught the slightest flash of worry in his eyes as she shook her head, unable to answer. She'd made an oath, and she knew Hermione Granger well enough to be wary of speaking about the D.A. to anyone outside of the group when she was under oath. Not that it was her only reason for avoiding the topic. Cassius couldn't know. More than ever, she felt the weight of their differences as she stared at the Slytherin crest on his robes, seeing it almost as though for the first time.
They were not from each other's worlds.
She'd never quite fully realized just how far apart they really were, and it was like a slap in the face.
He followed her gaze, and his expression visibly tightened.
"How far in are you?" he demanded brusquely. "This has to do with Potter, I just fucking know it," he added under his breath.
"Far enough," she replied hoarsely after a moment of silence.
She was not prepared for his approach - had actually forgotten about how large he was compared to her, how fast he could move - and she flinched when his hands gripped her shoulders to the point of pain.
"You stupid girl," he breathed, shaking her slightly, his voice stiff with anger and anxiety. "You stupid, stupid girl."
She revelled under his touch, even if it hurt, because she knew right then that it wasn't over.
He let go of her and backed away then, his fists clenched by his sides as he shook his head in disbelief.
"For fuck's sake Alicia - you couldn't just let it go! Why the hell would you go and do something so stupid like that? Do you have any idea, any bloody clue - you might as well have stamped a fucking target onto your face, for merlin's sake - you couldn't just fucking lay low -
"It's only a stupid defence -
She slapped her hands over her mouth before she could say anything more, and Cassius's eyes flashed furiously.
"Only a stupid defence what?" he barked. "You're stupider than I thought if you think that these are all just goddamn school games. Look around you - this school is basically under ministry control right now, do you have any idea what that means? Potter is being watched 24/7, and if you think Dumbledore can stop -
"This isn't about Dumbledore or Harry, you great git! If you think for one second that I'm going to graduate from this place with my head buried in the sand, then you're mad -
He shook his head again, his knuckles practically white by his sides.
"And you're just a naive little fool," he said angrily. "What are you going to do, take on the world?" he added mockingly.
"Fuck you, Cassius! Maybe I'm naive, maybe I'm a fool, but at least I'm not a coward. At least I'm not going to stand around and watch everything I know fall around me, at least I'm not going to just wait for some sonofabitch to come after me just because my father can't cast a goddamn spell.
You know what, actually? You're right, you're absolutely right - I am naive, I'll give you that - but I'm not a fool. You're the fool. You're the fool if you think you get to sit on your fucking pedestal and not take sides. And Daddy won't be able to buy you out of this one, not for long, and you're the naive one if you think you can keep your nose clean forever with your filthy money. You can sit around and watch everybody around you die, but eventually, they'll get to you too. And one day when you're off torturing muggles because you have to or they'll kill you, or whatever it is Death Eaters do, you'll realize how wrong you were to judge me for not wanting to give up. And I hope when that day comes, I'll be dead, because so help me god if I ever see you on the other side of a battle, I'll kill you Cassius, I'll kill you myself because I'd rather love you dead than hate you alive as one of Them - "
She broke off on a furious sob that escaped from deep inside of her, and she swore in frustration, exhausted by the tears, exhausted by the rage and the guilt and the self-hatred. It was only when she heard the clatter of something fall that she turned around in confusion. She stared as Cassius' ebony wand rolled across the floor and stopped against her feet. He looked back at her, his expression one of utter defeat, and she'd never been more terrified in her life.
"Well then," he said solemnly with a bitter laugh, "You might as well kill me now."
Time stopped and the world ceased spinning, and for a second Alicia thought her heart had been ripped out of her chest. She found herself standing before him, drowning out his confused protests as she seized him by the left arm and literally tore his robes as she dragged the sleeve up his forearm.
His skin was beautifully unmarred and terribly familiar, and she dropped his arm like a hot iron, shoving him back, blinded by rage.
"You bastard - how could you say something like that -
"Only His inner circle gets the mark, you silly girl."
"You - you're - Cassius!"
She backed away from him, her face marred with tears of despair, and his heart clenched at the sight. He'd tried to hate her - merlin knows he'd tried -
"Fuck," he half shouted in frustration, unable to stop himself, and he flinched when she cowered in fear. "Alicia -
"N-no -
"It isn't what you think -
"You're fucking working for Him! You as good as said so -
"I'm not!" he snapped. "I'm not, okay? Not directly. F - Somebody asked me to - to keep an eye on things at Hogwarts, alright? And I'm not exactly in a position to say no -
"Oh god," she whispered in her horror. "Please no, please Cassius - you can't say anything -
"Jesus fucking christ, what do you think I am? No, you know what, don't even answer that -
"You - I can't believe you're a - a spy!" she cried.
"I'm not a fucking spy!"
"Then what do you call it?" she screeched.
"I don't bloody know, okay? Just relax, alright? It's nothing serious -
"It's nothing serious now! But it could be! What are you going to tell them when you graduate? Excuse me, I'm actually going to take a raincheck on that since the girl I've been shagging for the past few months is actually a half blood. Oh my god, what if you've already said the wrong thing, what if they - they find a way to get to Harry -
"I don't give a flying fuck about Harry goddamn Potter, you stupid girl! I care about you, godammit, and if I have to fucking throw Potter under the bleeding Knight Bus if it means you'll be safe, I won't hesitate to do it, do you understand? It was never my intention to get involved in any of this, and I don't intend on being any more involved than I already am -
"And just how fucking involved are you?"
"Not as much as you are!" Cassius retorted hotly. "And the only reason I would ever take it further is if it means keeping you safe -
"I don't need you to keep me safe, you bloody idiot!"
"Yes, you fucking do," Cassius snarled fiercely, clutching her by the arms. "You provoked Rabastan Lestrange's daughter in a room full of fucking Sympathizers, you're a half-blood, you're a Gryffindor, and now you're knee-deep in Potter's shit, so as far as I'm concerned, considering your goddamn track record, you are in need of as much protection as you can get -
"And who's going to protect me, the little Dark Lord in training?" Alicia sneered mockingly.
"Fuck you, Alicia - you know I'm not like that -
"You are, you bastard! You're a goddamn sympathizer -
"I'm not a fucking sympathizer, okay? For chrissake, I'm fucking you, aren't I -
"No, you're not -
"And whose fault is that?" Cassius growled viciously.
She fell silent, and he nodded stiffly.
"That's what I thought," he snapped. "And I am not a fucking sympathizer, okay? Circe, I can't believe I actually have to spell it out for you."
"And what else am I supposed to think? You're reporting on Harry, half your family's dead because of who they were, and you've said so yourself - you actually agree with some of the bollocks that's being said -
"I believe," said Cassius through gritted teeth, "That yes, it is unfair that witches and wizards should have to hide from the world because of muggles. And yes, I believe that as long as we have to remain in hiding that it's ridiculous to let the families of mudbloods - muggleborns - gain access to our world -
"Oh, excuse me, and what do you propose we do with these mudbloods," Alicia sneered. "Or half bloods for that matter?"
"Their muggle relations shouldn't be allowed -
"My father is a muggle and he hasn't done anything to harm anybody in the wizarding world -
"I know you're father's a muggle!" Cassius snapped. "You don't fucking think I wish every goddamn day that he wasn't so that we don't have to hide? So that I don't have to fucking watch you parade around with that goddamn sonofabitch everywhere I go? And yeah, you're father might not give a damn whether or not you're a witch, but for circe's sake, Alicia - think about how much shit could go wrong if some muggle takes it into his head that he's going to tell the entire bloody muggle world that his kid's a witch? And don't tell me muggles are harmless, I know they've got weapons that could destroy the world, with or without magic - they would kill our kind, don't you understand? They'd lock us up and experiment on us -
"They're not evil -
"No, but they'd be afraid, and don't tell me otherwise. And when people are afraid, they do crazy things."
Alicia laughed, a brittle sarcastic sound that chilled Cassius' veins.
"You're right," she sneered. "You're absolutely right. And that's why the wizarding world's about to erupt into a war - because people like you are cowards, afraid. You're telling me you're spying for you-know-who for me? To keep me safe? Keep on telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night. I'd rather be dead then alive in a world where your side wins, and I mean that. You think I'm going to fight to get my jollies from being associated with The Boy Who Lived? I'm doing it so that I don't have to be scared for my life every time I make a wrong turn down Knockturn Alley, I'm doing it so that one day - maybe one day - people like you and me can - can just fucking be young and in love without worrying about some fucked up lunatic trying to off us all! So excuse me for being naive, excuse me for being foolish, but don't you dare call me stupid - don't you dare. You're the stupid one if you think you're going to get out of this war with clean hands."
Cassius shook his head furiously and firmly cradled her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him.
"You are stupid, Alicia," he said gravely. "You never should have let me touch you. Now we're both fucked."
OK, so how was it? Do you all still hate me?