บท 60: Cardinal Commencement
Cassie was dreaming of Severus, and it was lewd in nature. When someone knocked loudly at the bedroom door it took several moments to realize that she wasn't in a large bathtub filled with hot, lavender-scented water with the Potions Master kneeling between her legs.
"Hold onto your britches, I'm coming!" Tonks called. Sleepiness was still evident in her voice and she yawned as she pulled on a Magical Duma-provided robe.
Cassie watched her cousin for a moment before flopping onto her back, her black hair cascading over the teal-colored pillows beneath her. She tried to hold onto the last remnants of her extremely pleasant dream, but the details were slipping away quickly. What she wouldn't give to have Severus with her.
While Cassie contemplated her feelings of longing, a house-elf handed Tonks a roll of parchment and disappeared with a loud crack. "For you," she said as she tossed it on Cassie's bed.
"From who?"
"Dunno." Tonks closed the door, padded over to her four-poster, and flopped onto her stomach. She let out a long, satisfied moan as she buried her face in the pillows.
The note was tied shut with a golden silk ribbon. That small detail was enough to make the sender evident, and Cassie opened it as annoyance filled her.
"Anything good?" Tonks's question was muffled by pillows, but Cassie still heard her. She floated the note over to her cousin's bed with a small wave of her hand. Tonks sat up to read it, and her violet eyes grew wide. "Merlin's sack! Ten thousand galleons to sit on the Russian side today?"
"They're mad."
"You're mad if you're not considering it!"
"You've got to be kidding, Dora," Cassie huffed.
Her cousin's face broke into a wide grin. "I am. A little. But ten thousand galleons is a lot of money..."
Cassie whipped a silk pillow at Tonks, nailing her square in the face. She only laughed.
Cassie was reluctant to get up for the day, as she hadn't slept well enough to feel ready to deal with whatever nonsense was going to be hurled at her by the spatting ministries. She pulled a set of navy blue robes over her jeans with reluctance, hoping there would be some last-minute delay. One never came, and the two young witches entered the common area of the guest apartments. The few people that were awake looked rough, sporting bloodshot eyes and pale complexions.
Kingsley approached Tonks and Cassie, giving them a small nod in greeting. "The forum this morning is going to be a struggle for many of them," he mused.
The three of them watched one of the young undersecretaries grab an elaborate sapphire-encrusted vase from a coffee table and dry heave into it. "Did no one think to bring hangover elixirs?" Cassie muttered.
"Maybe there will be some provided with breakfast," Tonks offered.
"That's unlikely," said Kingsley. "Gryzlov would prefer them a bit rough for wear."
Fudge emerged from his room looking exhausted. His chubby face was puffier than usual and his hair stuck up in all directions. He ambled over to one of the overstuffed couches and rubbed his eyes, then took a survey of the room. Umbridge started to fuss over him, handing him a goblet of sparkling water and trying to smooth his hair with her hands. But the minister's focus was on Cassie.
"You're still here," Fudge said, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Am I not supposed to be?" she countered coldly. Tonks elbowed her in the ribs, earning a perturbed glare from her younger cousin.
"Yes, of course, you're supposed to be," Fudge spouted quickly. "I just assumed with the way you left the forum last night - "
"You mean after I won your duel for you?"
Umbridge turned from Fudge to face Cassie. "Do not speak to your minister in this ungracious manner!"
Cassie snorted. "Or what, exactly?"
A loud crack made most of the witches and wizards in the room jump. The house-elf from earlier that morning had returned.
He bowed deeply, his sharp nose milometers from touching the floor. "Pardon me's, masters an' mistresses. I have come to receive Miss Blackses' reply," he squeaked after straightening up.
"Reply?" Lucius interjected haughtily. Cassie hadn't realized he had come out of his room until he spoke. He looked appalled.
Cassie ignored her uncle. "You can tell him no," she told the elf.
He bowed again. "I shall inform Master Minister Sergey straight away." He disappeared.
All eyes were on her. She ignored the questions that Fudge, Umbridge, and Lucius were slinging at her, and returned to her and Tonks's room. When breakfast was served, she ate alone.
She walked behind the large group as they were escorted to start the forum. Just as she was about to go through the double doors, a familiar voice called her name. She hesitantly stopped to see what Yuri wanted.
"Fifteen thousand," he whispered hurriedly.
Cassie shook her head in disbelief. "You people are relentless!"
He swallowed hard. It was clear he was meant to convince her to join Gryzlov's side before she entered. "If you require higher payment, please name the amount - "
"For the last fucking time. I am not for sale!" She barged through the doors and trudged her way toward her seat. Gryzlov watched her every step.
The previous night's topic of Fudge training Gryzlov's employees was not brought up. They spoke of marine mer-people goods and trading a few high-security prisoners, and of the election of the next counselor of the Nordic ministry that would take place in a few months. But it seemed the duel between Cassie and Molotov had definitively settled the issue last night. Cassie was at least satisfied with that.
During the lunch break, she bought a few magazines from a vendor in the main lobby. When they resumed, she sat with her feet resting on the back of the chair in front of her and paged through Cauldron Monthly. Umbridge hissed irritably at her, but Cassie pretended not to notice. Surprisingly, Lucius and Narcissa bit their tongues even though they were throwing disapproving glances her way.
It was early evening when the seminar finally concluded. The politicians and their subordinates all stood and clapped, and the ball was officially announced. Cassie groaned at the thought of having to attend the festivities. No doubt, there would be more schemes and puking.
"Buck up," Tonks said as she charmed bright blue eye shadow onto her lids. They had ample time to get ready, and the young Auror was having fun changing her look every few minutes while Cassie lounged on her bed. "There's going to be good food and booze. Probably some dancing."
Cassie sighed as she stared at the ceiling. "What are you excited about? You can't drink, Dora. You're still on duty."
"What's the harm? The hard part is over."
"You think Kingsley is going to be thinking that way?"
"He can be the responsible one. I'm going to enjoy myself." She scrunched her nose and her hair started to change from bright pink to a muted shade of purple. "If you're going to be a wet cloak, why don't you find someone to activate a Portkey and go home?"
"You'd miss me too much."
"Alright, then," Tonks said. "You're not accompanying me like that."
Cassie let Tonks transfigure her robes and charm her hair into loose curls. If it were any other party, she might have felt pretty. But tonight, in her waist-hugging scarlet gown that showed a bit too much cleavage for her liking and red-stained lips, she just felt foolish.
The ball was going to be held in a chamber separate from the one they had used for their political debates. The cousins walked in arm-in-arm, and the view was breathtaking as they entered. The vaulted ceiling was covered in thousands of floating white candles, and silver and gold swans swam lazily in crystal pools in every corner of the room. Glass tables were covered with sparkling plates where delectable dishes would appear out of thin air. Trays filled with goblets of wine were being carried by the most beautiful women Cassie had ever seen, and she wondered if they all at least part Veela.
"Gryzlov knows how to throw a party," said Tonks.
"Or at least decorate for one," agreed Cassie.
Tonks wasted no time in helping herself to one of the goblets of wine. Cassie watched as her cousin, looking elegant in a sapphire floor-length gown with her hair pinned neatly at the back of her head, downed the entire thing in seconds. She hadn't been kidding when she said she was going to enjoy herself.
Dinner consisted of hors d'oeuvres, meaning Cassie didn't have the luxury of sitting while everyone else mingled after the meal. For the first half hour, she stayed standing next to one of the pools where two swans glided neatly through the water, hoping that people would pretend she wasn't there. Tonks, who was already on her second goblet of wine, had sidled up to one of Gryzlov's Aurors and was giggling at something he said.
Classical music filled the chamber. A quintet of instruments had been charmed to play while a large witch in pearly white robes conducted them. Gryzlov and who Cassie could only assume was his wife took to the dance floor, and everyone applauded.
"You look beautiful," Kingsley said as he came to stand next to Cassie. He held a crystal tumbler of water in his large hand.
"You clean up well, yourself," Cassie answered sincerely. He was dressed in deep purple robes lined with gold, the colors a stark contrast to the many witches and wizards that were still wearing teal that night.
She answered Kingsley as he spoke to her, but she wasn't paying close attention to the chit-chat. She was scanning the large room, looking for a certain wizard that would be difficult to miss when he arrived.
When Molotov did appear, her blue eyes locked on to every move the black-clad wizard made. First, he downed two shots of peppered vodka, and then made his way over to the table filled with meatballs and pickled mushrooms. He was mowing down food like he hadn't eaten in days. Cassie wrinkled her nose in revulsion as she watched him move on to the cheeseboard when someone clearing their throat interrupted her focus.
Kingsley was looking at her expectantly. She realized that Gryzlov was standing next to the Auror, and he had his hand extended to her. She didn't need him to repeat himself to realize that he was proposing a dance. She begrudgingly accepted.
"I thought your beauty knew no bounds, after seeing you perform last night," Gryzlov told her. His hand was planted firmly on her lower back as they moved slowly on the dance floor. "I am proven very wrong, seeing you now."
She resisted the urge to gag. "That was not a performance, and I am not a show dog."
A toothy smile erupted on the Russian minister's face. "Of course not, young Mistress Black. You misunderstand me completely. I only have the utmost respect for you and your talents."
"Ten thousand galleons' worth?"
Gryzlov chuckled lowly. "Even more, if you play your cards right. Show me the same loyalty that you have shown Cornelius, and my generosity will be unlimited, young witch." Cassie looked over his shoulder, her attention elsewhere as Molotov went through a swinging side door. She pulled her hand from Gryzlov's, but she was met with resistance as he circled an arm around her waist and held her tighter. "I want an answer," he growled in her ear. Romily, who was dancing with Vitaly a few feet away, watched the interaction with wide eyes.
The minister's head snapped away from her when a hand gripped his shoulder. Gryzlov looked flabbergasted like he would never expect someone to interrupt in such a manner.
"Minister," Lucius warned quietly, "Would you do me the favor of unhanding my niece."
The politician's arms left Cassie's torso. He stepped back to look between the two of them carefully. "Do not be afraid to come to me, Cassiopeia," he said in an ominous tone. Lucius glared at him as he walked away to join his undersecretaries.
"Trying to impress Fudge?" asked Cassie. Lucius glared down at her.
"I was merely doing my duty as your uncle - "
"Please." Cassie gathered her flowing red skirts in her hands. "Save me the production."
Lucius let her walk away alone. But she had lost Molotov. She approached the door she had seen him use, intending to go after him when one of the gorgeous blonde servers burst through it. She was in tears with her hands on her neck. One of the other waitresses noticed her distress and pulled her to the side, running her hands through her hair as she examined her.
Molotov came through the door. He looked simultaneously aggravated and satisfied like his feelings were at war with one another. As he strolled to the dance floor, he turned to stare at the sniffling witch. She looked back at him with fear evident on her features, and her friend dragged her away.
Molotov moved through couples dancing, seeming disinterested in anything except for booze and food. He was becoming increasingly inebriated as the minutes ticked on, not caring that he bumped into Vitaly and Romily so hard that he made the waltzing couple stumble. The enormous wizard had been so graceful while dueling the night before, and now he was lumbering around like a troll.
Cassie ripped her eyes away from him to search for Tonks. She was dancing with the curly-haired Russian Auror, fully distracted. Cassie took the opportunity to approach Molotov, who had just swallowed another shot of vodka. The server flinched as he slammed the tumbler back onto the tray.
"Cheers," said Cassie, raising a goblet she had snatched from a table on her way over to him, "to a splendid evening."
"What you want?" he grumbled at her. He was trying to focus those sharp eyes on her, but he was having a difficult time.
"I want to bury the hatchet, Ludis."
"Eh?" he grunted. He didn't seem familiar with the expression. He swayed where he stood, placing a large hand on the table beside him to balance himself. A full plate of pastries fell to the floor, and a few heads turned toward the noise.
Cassie set her untouched drink aside and stepped closer to him. She looked up at him through long, mascara-coated lashes, and said, "I want to kiss and make up."
A sly smile formed on his lips. The smell of alcohol and onions on his breath overwhelmed her senses as he leaned down to suggest they find another place to reconcile their differences. Cassie agreed.
Needing a distraction, Cassie picked the right moment to pull her wand from her black tights and charm the floating candles to start performing a coordinated dance. Everyone in the room looked up to the ceiling and gasped in delight. It was then that she followed Molotov out of the elaborately decorated hall.
He led her down the empty corridor and pulled her into an empty office. He was easy to evade as he tried to pin her against the large mahogany desk, and he chuckled, assuming she was just playing hard to get. She watched his demeanor change rapidly as she continued to dodge his advances.
"You better stay put, witch, or I'll bind you to the chair!" he sneered. This time, Cassie didn't side-step away when his arms went to circle her torso. Satisfied with her compliance, he started to plant sloppy kisses on her neck and collarbone.
She had to be sure that Molotov was fully distracted. Biting back her revulsion as his lips traveled to her cleavage, she grabbed onto his ears and pulled. In his surprise, he looked into her eyes, and then she entered his mind.
Cassie hadn't known what to expect, but what she saw was worse than she could have imagined. She saw flashes of witches and Muggle women that he forced himself on, and the faces of people he killed. And then she saw Molotov in the kitchens with the blonde server earlier that night, ripping out a piece of her hair and strangling her as he promised to come back for her later.
She didn't stay to investigate any further. Seeing those heinous acts was enough.
Molotov scrambled away from Cassie as soon as she stopped the mental barrage. He slumped against the wall, pointing a thick finger at her as he struggled to catch his breath. "You vile cunt!" he boomed at her.
"That lock of hair," she sneered at him. "Was that supposed to be a trophy?"
"I'll end you!"
Cassie smiled mirthlessly. "Then do it." She reached under her gown and removed her sparkling white wand from her tights again. Molotov blinked several times. He seemed to have lost his bravery.
"If you tell anyone - " he started.
"I won't," Cassie interjected. "Accusing you of such things would only sour the relationship between ministries." Relief flooded Molotov's features.
She let him leave the office, letting him think he was getting away with such horrendous acts. After about thirty seconds, she followed. The corridor was eerily dark and empty, the only light coming from a few lit sconces mounted on the walls. Molotov was nowhere in sight, likely having slipped through a secret passage that a guest such as herself would not know of.
It was better that way. His abrupt disappearance would make things much more interesting. She would get to hunt him.
Cassie pointed her wand at her neck, correctly assuming the grotesque man's saliva had dried there. She used the bodily fluids to perform a tracking spell. It was too easy. She had sometimes spent days chasing down targets while in South America. She missed the exhilaration of finally cornering and apprehending a cavaleiros after putting so much effort into tracking them through the rainforest.
But tonight was different. The things that she had seen in Molotov's mind...simply catching him and turning him over would not be enough. He was too dangerous. As she followed the small, green glowing trail of lights and found herself out on the streets of St. Petersburg, Cassie wasn't debating what she would end up doing to him to bring him to justice. She was only thinking of how.
He was easy to spot among the throngs of bustling Muggles. The further he led her away from the Hermitage, the slower his pace fell. He was likely feeling he was free from any reparation. His obliviousness suited Cassie just fine. She only needed him far enough away from the Magical Duma so their confrontation would not be interrupted by another witch or wizard, and she was confident that most of them were still drinking the night away anyway.
The telltale thumping of nightclub music grew louder. Molotov glided past an endless queue of hot-blooded Muggles dressed to impress, gave a single nod to the bouncer that was almost taller than him, and went inside.
Cassie surveyed the line of people waiting to get inside. The man guarding the door was only letting certain ones in, and she wasn't sure what criteria she would have to meet to get past him. Nonetheless, she ignored the roped-off area entirely and approached him.
"Hey!" a young man from the middle of the queue shouted angrily, "no cuts!" The bouncer looked her up and down slowly, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
"My boyfriend is inside," she lied. He huffed, then unhooked the rope that blocked her way.
The inside of the building was dark, but flashing strobe lights helped Cassie find her way. Bodies were packed tightly, most of them moving to the beat of the extremely loud music, and people were smushed together near the bar waiting to get drinks.
"Where did you come from, Cinderella?" a man not much older than her asked as she moved through the crowd. Cassie, who suddenly remembered she was still in her scarlet ball gown, realized she stuck out severely in this crowd.
She didn't bother wasting time debating what to do with her eye-catching outfit. She spotted Molotov over by the lounge and he was still completely unaware that she was following him. It seemed his attention was focused on a young woman with long black hair and pale skin. He leered at her behind his drink as she chatted obliviously with a small group of friends.
"Come here often, gorgeous?" a gravelly voice shouted in Cassie's ear. Annoyed, she pushed the man away and moved deeper into the throng of dancers, wanting to make sure that Molotov wouldn't spot her. She kept a close eye on him, barely noticing the writhing bodies around her and not caring how rude she was coming off when anyone dared to approach her. Molotov stayed put unless the raven-haired Muggle moved around the club. But his gaze never left her, a seasoned hunter readying to strike.
The girl and two of her friends left the dance floor, giggling as they stumbled to the restrooms with their arms around each other. Molotov slowly turned to follow, graceful in his movements as he stalked his prey. Cassie, eager to keep the unknown girl out of harm's way, parted the crowd with one swift movement of her hands. She hurried after Molotov as the intoxicated Muggles around her tried to figure out what had just happened.
A billowing cloud of grey smoke and shrieks of terror suddenly emerged from the women's bathroom. People panicked, scattering in every direction until staff directed them toward the exits. Cassie fought against the current of frightened Muggles trying to get out of the club.
The sound of muffled whimpers echoed around the nearly deserted bathroom when Cassie entered. She waved her wand, and the obstructing smoke whirled into a tight cyclone and dispelled. Molotov had the raven-haired girl pressed up against a sink, his large hand circling her throat. The sudden disappearance of his created diversion confused him, and his massive, shiny head turned as he searched the room for the culprit. Finally, he saw Cassie.
He didn't hide his surprise as he stared at her. The girl was wheezing, her neck still in his grip, but her eyes were wild with fear. Now, they had landed on Cassie, and she clawed at Molotov's hand in desperation. He didn't notice.
"Why settle for a lookalike when you can have the real thing?" said Cassie.
"Scheming cunt," Molotov growled quietly. His eyes landed on her wand, which was pointed at his chest. He let go of the Muggle's neck, and she doubled over as she gasped for air.
"Get out of here," Cassie commanded her. The girl looked at her with apprehension but obeyed. She sobbed as she ran past Cassie and out the door.
"You won't even give me a chance to defend myself?" Molotov spat.
"As if you ever gave your victims that luxury?"
"What are you going to do?" he goaded her, and now a sneer had taken over his features. "You wouldn't dare to kill me. You don't have it in you, little dove."
Cassie saw his fingers twitch on his dominant hand. Sirens grew louder outside. They were alone now, but more Muggles would be pouring into the place, and that would make this whole ordeal much more complicated. She had no choice but to follow through with her plan. It was why she had let him leave the premises of the Magical Duma in the first place, wasn't it? To follow him, find him, and end him? What other choice did she have, now that she knew of all the things he had done?
Her wand was still pointed at his chest. She raised it slightly, deciding finally on a hex she had never used before. Molotov stared, his beady eyes wide, but then he was looking past her. A hand suddenly gripping her shoulder caught her completely off guard, and all at once, it felt like she was being squeezed through a very tight tube.
The force of the non-consensual Apparation knocked Cassie off balance, and she scrambled from her knees back to a standing position. It took her a few seconds to realize that Romily had been the one to transport her away from the club without warning, and rage threatened to burst from her very soul.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Cassie yelled. Her wand was still in her grasp, and she didn't feel the least bit of remorse as she brandished it at the brunette witch. Like Cassie, Romily had not changed out of her formal attire. She almost seemed to glow in her shiny golden dress robes.
"Cassie," Romily said, holding up her hands, although she also was armed with her wand, "please calm down."
A loud bang announced the arrival of another. A hooded figure in black robes appeared, but they weren't alone. Molotov was bound with chains and laid unconscious at their feet.
"You!" Cassie hissed, charging the familiar figure. "You're the one that's been following me all these months!" She ripped the hood from the phantom's face. Finally exposed, Cassie saw that she was an older witch, perhaps in her late thirties, and her expression was solemn.
"I am." She bowed her head slightly, pieces of her dark brown hair falling into her face as she spoke. "Please forgive my evasiveness, my lady."
The confession did little to quell Cassie's anger. But she noticed now that they were inside a sprawling room with limestone walls and that the only source of light was coming from sporadically spaced candles. Perhaps the dim lighting was why it took her a moment to realize that they weren't alone. She turned around to see that there were about fifty other people in the room.
"Mily," said Cassie evenly as she processed the sight of all those eyes gaping at her. "What in Merlin's hairy crotch is going on?"
Romily stepped closer to her, her movements slow, like a trainer trying not to spook an unbroken horse. "It is why I am 'ere with Vitaly. Not to be with 'im. I am 'ere for you. All of us are."
Cassie tore her eyes away from the silent crowd to look at her friend. She tried to get a read on her, to gauge whether there was true sincerity in her features. "What?"
Every person in the room dropped to their knees in unison, leaving Cassie to stand alone, slack-jawed and bewildered. She looked to Romily for answers.
"Many witches and wizards were inspired when you disposed of the dark witch," Romily spoke with her head bowed, but loud enough that her voice echoed around the large room. "I was approached by Diolinda," she gestured to the older witch shrouded in black robes that kneeled beside her. "She had found others that wished to serve the one that defeated Sombria. To serve you."
"Stand up, Romily," said Cassie softly. "All of you, stand up." Romily obeyed immediately. Diolinda looked apprehensive, but Romily took her hand and gave her a smile of encouragement. As the older witch stood, so did the others.
"I am in awe to be in your presence," Diolinda said, her brown eyes shining with tears. "Killing Sombria - you have no idea the hope that it gave me and my family...at least, the ones that are left. So many dead, my lady. So many innocents murdered in cold blood."
"I only did the right thing."
"You gave us peace in a time of terror. For that, I offer you my unending loyalty." Diolinda turned and looked to the crowd, and Cassie's eyes followed. She noticed a familiar face, although she couldn't quite place it right away. The wizard was in his late fifties or early sixties, and there was something so distinct about his wide jaw and squashed nose.
Cassie didn't speak as she stormed up to him. His expression of reverence turned to fear as she grasped the collar of his grey robes. The witches and wizards around him stepped aside as Cassie backed him up into the wall.
"You were there," she spat angrily, "the night that Fallon had me taken from Hogwarts!"
"My lady, please - " the wizard started.
"Don't call me that!" She pressed her wand into his throat. "Tell me what this is!"
"Miss Ribeiro is telling the truth," he said, swallowing hard. "Everyone here is willing to offer allegiance to you and your cause."
"And what do you think my cause is? To be the next Dark Lord? To be my father?"
"No, Miss Black. I followed Fallon, but he mislead a lot of us to gain numbers. Some of us present that night at the Lestrange estate, we only wanted to serve your purpose - "
"I don't have a purpose!" Cassie spat. She stared at the man's sweaty face, but her mind was elsewhere for a few moments. She was gravely outnumbered. If they wanted to take her, she would have a hard time fending off this many people, unless she went for broke and unleashed without regard for anyone's safety but her own...but she didn't know if she could do that to Romily. Even if she was involved in some plot to elevate her to become the next dark witch, she couldn't maim her.
"But you could," Romily said. She was using that same placid timber as she spoke. But her eyes glittered with excitement. "'ave you not spoken at length how incompetent you find your minister? 'ow much better things could be with a new order in place?"
"You're suggesting I remove Fudge from power," Cassie responded sardonically. She let go of the wizard in her grip and turned to face Romily.
"Not just remove him," Diolinda chimed in. "But take the position yourself."
"You're both insane!"
"We would be with you every step of the way," said Diolinda. She stepped forward and took Cassie's hands in hers as if this were an emotional moment. Cassie didn't notice the contact, as she was leering at her in disbelief.
"What you're suggesting is treason," Cassie said quietly.
"No one here is denying that."
"No," said Cassie, ripping her hands away from Diolinda. "This whole thing, whatever this is - I don't know what you think you're going to get out of any of this, but I refuse to head the usurpation of the Ministry!"
"That's fine, Cassie," Romily said. "That isn't our goal, it really isn't. We will do anything you wish, anything you need at any time. Our loyalty is to you."
Cassie shook her head. She still couldn't wrap her head around any of it, and all she wanted was to leave, to get back to the Magical Duma so she could crawl into bed, or better yet, get back to Severus and pretend this whole thing was a dream. "But why?" she finally demanded.
A blonde witch stepped forward from the group. She, too, was familiar, and Cassie wondered how she hadn't noticed her until now. "Simply because you are fated, and we are compelled to aid you in your admirable conquests," said Bianca the seer.
Cassie let out a strained exhalation. Finally, their meaning seemed to sink in. Romily encased Cassie in a tight hug, furthering the release of tension from her body. When Cassie wrapped her arms around her friend to return the embrace, the onlookers began to clap.
"This is ridiculous," Cassie said quietly in Romily's ear. "I could do without all the groveling."
"What were you going to do with this man?" Romily asked as they pulled apart, pointing to a still-unconscious Molotov. Cassie explained what she had seen at the ball and in his mind. Surprisingly, no one seemed appalled when she confessed her intention to kill him after their encounter at the club.
"I will do it for you, my lady," said Diolinda.
"Let me end him!" piped up another witch in the crowd eagerly. Other voices began to chatter over one another as they offered to do Cassie's dirty work. As if on cue, Molotov began to stir.
"Right on time," Cassie said to him, a dangerous smile on her face as she looked down at his bound form. Romily reached down to remove the gag from his mouth, and the mountainous wizard spat at her. Romily landed a sharp kick to his rib cage in response.
"What is this!" he wheezed. "Let me up, or I'll gut every last one of you!"
"Ludis Molotov," said Cassie, and he looked up at her with enraged eyes. "You are a rapist and a murderer."
"I am no such thing, you lying cunt - " Romily performed a perfect Langlock jinx, effectively cutting off his crude banter.
"For that," Cassie continued, "you will be executed."
She had chosen the squash-nosed wizard named Billiard Bristol. If anyone needed to prove their loyalty that night, Cassie thought it would be someone who had been a part of Fallon's crimes. He agreed to it with no hesitation.
"How would you like it to be done, my lady?"
Cassie exchanged a glance with Romily. Her friend knew her well, but did she suspect that if she had been alone with Molotov, she would have made his death torturous in exchange for all the suffering he had caused? Could she show that side of herself in front of all of these strangers?
"Feel free to make it uncomfortable," Romily told Billiard. Cassie shot her a grateful smile.
Molotov's death was equally satisfying to witness as it was harrowing for him. Billiard had chosen a rather unpleasant asphyxiation curse, one that Cassie had never seen before. It caused instantaneous pulmonary edema, and in a few minutes, he was choking on his own frothing, pink bodily fluids. He fell to his side, straining to catch a breath but unable, his eyes wide and the vessels on his neck throbbing as the life slowly left his body. Before Cassie departed for the Magical Duma, she had Billiard show her how to cast the spell.
She and Romily Apparated arm in arm. It was late when they found their way back to the ballroom, and the people that were left seemed quite drunk. Fudge was seated at a table with an annoyed-looking Umbridge next to him. He was speaking to her, a hiccup leaving his mouth every few words.
"Cass!" Tonks hissed, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around. "Where in Merlin's name were you?"
"She was with me," Romily said without missing a beat.
Tonks looked unimpressed. "Where?"
"A club."
"A club? And why was that necessary?"
"I 'ardly think it is any of your business," Romily replied coolly. "If you must know, we 'ad some catching up to do."
"You could have told someone where you were going!" Tonks replied haughtily. "I was worried!"
"We are not children!" Romily snapped. "Besides, were you not busy canoodling with that Russian Auror instead of tending to your lump of a boss?"
"Enough," said Cassie. "I'm tired, I want to go to bed - "
"Excuse me?" Tonks said, clearly offended. "You are one to talk, Miss I'm-fucking-the-grandest-douchebag-of-all-time - "
Her tirade was interrupted by Vitaly himself. He walked up to Romily, grasping her wrist in his hand and pulling her to him. "Where have you been, Romy? You left me here alone all night!"
Romily yanked her arm from his grasp. "I was at a Muggle dance club."
"Come again? Doing what?"
"Dancing. With Muggle men," she quipped. The vein on Vitaly's forehead began to swell. "And while we are on the subject, Vitaly. We are through."
Cassie was glad to pull Romily away from Vitaly's offensive slurs. Her original plan of going up to the guest apartments to get some sleep was demolished as they sought out someone in the travel offices to arrange last-minute Portkeys. Romily had no desire to see Vitaly outside of their training any longer, and Cassie was sick of anything magical government-related. It took some convincing, but in the end, a surly-looking witch charmed some forks for them.
"See you soon?" Romily asked Cassie as they stood next to the tables holding their respective Portkeys. The question held much more meaning now than it ever could have before.
"Definitely."
In seconds, Romily was transported to Amazonas while Cassie went back to Hogsmeade. The familiarity of the small village was a welcome sight, but even so, she hurried through it to reach Hogwarts's main gates. She had plenty of excitement for one weekend. All she craved now was normalcy in the form of a tall, dark, and brooding Potions Master.
She rushed down to the dungeons, thankful that she had chosen flats instead of heels as she made good time on the staircases. Goose pimples rose on her bare arms as the cool air surrounded her. A smile broke on her face as she thought of ways Severus could warm her.
Cassie burst into his living quarters. The fireplace stood bare, but no matter. It was late, and she was foolish to hope that he would be awake. She stepped into his bedroom, hoping to wake him with a kiss. But his bed was empty.
Disappointment filled her. After everything that had happened in the last few days, he was the only thing that she wanted, and now he was out of her reach. She could search for him, but he was likely patrolling and could be almost anywhere in the castle. And she was so, so tired. So she laid on the bed, sprawled across his side, and nestled her face into his pillow. His scent filled her nose, and tonight there was an accent of cloves and lemon tree bark. She wondered what he had been brewing as she drifted off to sleep.
It was near five in the morning when Severus returned to his living quarters. It had been a tedious round of patrolling, as he and Sinistra had found a hysterical fifth-year Ravenclaw in the Astronomy tower. The girl was a perfectionist for as long as Severus had been her professor, and the pressure of upcoming O.W.L's was rearing its head. The young witch was in the hospital wing under Poppy's watchful eye, and she now was at least the Head of Ravenclaw's problem instead of his.
He had expected to enter his empty bedroom, crawl under the cold sheets and try to get a few hours of sleep before waking for a late breakfast. What he hadn't anticipated was to find Cassie, who wasn't supposed to return from St. Petersburg until tomorrow. And from the looks of her, she had departed during the ball.
But oh, she looked like a dream as he watched her from the doorway. Her porcelain face was relaxed as she slumbered, framed by a mane of tousled black hair that had lost much of its curl as the night progressed, and her stained red lips were parted slightly. Severus's black eyes traveled to her bosom as it rose and fell with each breath, and jealousy bubbled in his chest as he imagined any other man's eyes on her while she wore that lovely scarlet ball gown.
She stirred. He hadn't moved or made a discernible sound, and yet somehow she seemed to sense his presence. Her shimmering eyelids fluttered open and blue eyes landed on him in an instant, making his heart leap to his throat. They had been together for years, and she still had this effect on him. It truly was a wonder.
"Severus," she murmured, turning over just enough to lean on an elbow. Some of her raven locks fell into her face. He crossed the room in a few long strides, kneeling at the side of the bed and running his long fingers through her misplaced hair. A contented smile formed on her lips.
That smile. Words need not accompany it. It was all Severus needed to know that he was welcome and wanted, that she desired nothing more than for him to be near. It was an expression he had slowly learned to trust and eventually seek out, and now she offered it to him so frequently that he was often convinced that she was an angel that had been sent to the wrong man. Perhaps he was dead. But no, that could not be. Because if he was dead, then he was surely in heaven with this woman seeking his affections. And heaven was not something he deserved.
"You look beautiful," he told her. She cupped his face with her hand, her breathing steady as she searched his gaze. Surely, this would be the time that she would tell him that she had made a grave mistake and that she didn't want him. He feared the contemplation that he saw in her eyes. Even so, he turned into her soft touch, seeking out as much contact with her as he could.
He could tell the moment something broke her flow of thoughts. A playfulness grew in her expression as she bit her bottom lip, something she knew would drive him crazy with desire. "This silly old thing?" she asked. "Dora made me wear it."
"She chose well for you."
Cassie gasped in mock astonishment. "You complimented her? I must write her a letter at once!" She sat up and started to climb out of the bed. He pounced, moving quickly from his knees to pin her to the bed, using his tall frame to keep her in place. She giggled in pure delight.
They were both exhausted, but their activities kept them occupied until well past breakfast. Severus knew the first half of his Sunday was going to be utterly unproductive. He didn't care. The rest of the castle didn't know that Miss Black had returned from Russia early, and he planned on keeping her to himself for as long as he could. Grading and lesson plans and tutoring would have to wait.
It wasn't until the couple had eaten a lunch of cucumber sandwiches delivered from the kitchens and had shared a leisurely bath that reality had to return. It was then that Cassie shared the long anecdote that was her weekend. At first, Severus was aggravated that she hadn't told him right away. He berated her and accused her of being reticent. But as she explained her reasoning, he began to understand. Nothing would be the same any longer, and they both deserved one last, carefree morning before the responsibilities of what was to come bore down on her.
It was only the beginning.
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