musical mood: I wanna be yours - artic monkeys

"-You were hungry?" Molly stared at her son in sheer disbelief. The two were sat down on the couch, Cass still staring at the spot of blood on her shoe. Molly was standing right in front of them, towering over them, and Moody lingered in the doorframe, his expression unreadable. "So, instead of asking our perfectly good house elf to cook something for you from the countless items of food we have, you decided it would be a good idea to leave the house in the middle of the night, and then stay out for hours after? You-Know-Who is back! One of his followers could've found you, could've killed you!"

"I'm sorry, mum, I am! I just needed some air, I kept thinking about dad, I was going mad staying inside this bloody house. And honestly, I wouldn't put it past Kreacher to try and poison me." George said, earning a smack on the cheek from his mother and a chuckle from Moody. "We were going to come straight back, I swear."

"Well, what prevented you?" Molly folded her arms across her chest, and both of them shifted in their seats. "What kept you outside for five bloody hours?!"

George opened his mouth to speak, but Cass cut him off.

"It was my fault, Molly."

Molly's gaze softened slightly as she met Cass's eye. George's mother had always liked Cass, or so it seemed, at least.

"Cassie-" George began, but she shook her head, still refusing to look in his direction.

"He's lying for me. We weren't hungry, we didn't get anything to eat. The truth is...I had an episode. A bad one. So, I freaked out and I ran out of the house. George followed me. It took hours to find me, but he did, and he brought me to my senses, convinced me I'm safe and all that. I wasn't in my right mind, and if he hadn't come after me, I might've hurt myself."

Molly didn't seem to know what to say to this.

"An...episode?" She blinked after a long silence passed between them.

Cass frowned. Did she not know? It was common knowledge among those who lived with them at Grim Old Place that she'd been institutionalized, but maybe they didn't all know the full story behind it, didn't know the visions she'd been plagued with since the summer began.

"Yeah. Moody can tell you all about them." She glanced over at Moody, who was eyeing her with suspicion. She shrunk under his gaze. Did he not believe her? "Just...don't be mad at George, he was just trying to help me. It's my fault, not his."

She felt George wrap his fingers in between hers, and she inhaled sharply. An internal battle began, whether to pull away or to lean into his grip. She was furious, beyond furious at him, but she couldn't let Molly catch on to that, and his touch felt so good against hers...

"I have to use the loo." Cass stood up suddenly, allowing her hand to slip out of George's grip as she dashed up the stairs.

"I don't understand. What episode?" She heard Molly ask as she turned the corner.

She didn't go into the restroom, though, instead she found herself back inside her own room, locking the door behind her. Part of her expected Barty to be there, just as she had many times before, but he was nowhere to be seen. Somehow, this made her even more anxious. Why wasn't he coming to her? Was he planning something?

You're not seeing him because you're better. Because he's dead. Cass told herself, breathing like she had been in the police station. Inhale, hold, exhale, repeat.

She sat down on her bed, leaning back and resting her head on the soft pillow.

Inhale, hold, exhale, repeat.

Fuck, she was so tired. She hadn't realised just how much the night had exhausted her until she found herself curled up in her bed, pulling up the blanket to her neck. Well, being awake since midnight would make anyone tired, she figured. But, as she closed her eyes and finally drifted off into a long awaited sleep, she wished George was there.

*

Cass was awoken several hours later by a knock at her door, not gentle at all, but like someone was trying to break it down.

"What? What do you want?" She groaned, pushing herself up into a sitting position. The pounding only increased. "It's locked! Give me a minute."

She walked over to the door, unlocking it and opening it to be face to face with Moody.

"Move." He said, and she did, allowing him to step inside her room. "Shut the door."

"What do you want?" Cass repeated as she did as he asked, shutting the door behind him.

"I'm not an idiot."

"Good for you."

"Where were you last night? I know you didn't have an episode."

"No you don't. You don't know that. You're not in my head."

"I know because I was an Auror for 30 years. I can tell when people are lying to me."

She bit down on her lip. "But Molly bought it, didn't she?"

He nodded. "Yes, she certainly did. For now, at least. Tell me where you actually were, and I won't tell her the truth."

"George was being honest. We went out, we wanted air, got a bite to eat."

"He said you left at two in the morning."

"Yes."

"So, you were out getting food, for five hours? Tell me why I don't believe that, Crouch."

"Cassiopeia." She corrected with a glare.

"Right." He sighed, clearly annoyed. "Where were you, Cassiopeia?"

"George got into a fight. We were arrested."

Clearly, this was not what Moody had expected.

"Arrested." He repeated her word, like he didn't quite believe it.

"Yep."

"Well, that explains the tension between you two." Cass shifted, pressing her lips together. She'd hoped no one had noticed, but apparently, Moody could pick up on even the smallest of details. He was smarter than people gave him credit for. "I assume you did not participate in this fight."

"Alastor, with all due respect, do I look like someone who gets into fights?" She motioned at her thin, scrawny body, void of just about any muscles.

To her surprise, he actually laughed at this.

"What was the fight over?"

Ah, and wasn't that the million galleon question.

"Er...we ran into someone I knew. He was...well, he was mad at me. Suppose he had the right to be. He kept insulting me, talking about...well, things...and we tried to leave but he followed and kept taunting us and eventually George had it."

"So he was defending you?"

She nodded softly, biting down on her tongue. "I didn't mean for him to. I didn't want him to. I just wanted to go, but he had enough. Then the cops were rang, so we were stuck at the police station for a few hours, but Connor decided not to press charges, so they let us go."

"And what was the boy - Connor - saying to you?"

"I'd rather not repeat it, if that's okay."

She'd rather die than explain to Moody that Connor been upset because she'd had sex with him and subsequently ignored him for four months.

Moody stared at her for a moment, searching her eyes, before nodding. "So George got into a fight over your honour - something you didn't want him to do, got you all into trouble, and yet, you took the fall."

"I suppose so."

"Why?"

Because I love him. Even when he makes me furious, I love him.

When she didn't answer, Moody sighed. "Get some sleep, Cassiopeia. You look like you could use it."

*

It was weird, being mad at George. Of course, Cass had been mad at him before, but those was over stupid, silly things, like pouring water on her or making Draco Malfoy fall in love with her. Besides, those were all before he meant the world to her. She found she didn't like being mad at him at all, she didn't like ignoring his gaze, sleeping alone at night. But just as she was miserable, she was stubborn. It would take a lot of convincing from George for her to let what happened go.

The Weasley's, Potter, Granger and the rest of the Order went to visit Arthur at St. Mungo's twice, and while Cass had wanted to go, wanted to support them, she didn't think she could bare being inside those walls ever again, even just as a visitor.

So, only her and Sirius Black remained, though she kept inside her room, not wanting to talk to him. It was nothing against him in particular, in fact, she actually quite liked him, but her time spent apart from George, both in a physical and emotional sense, left her in a rather shitty mood.

It was nearing dusk on Christmas, when they returned from visiting Arthur the second time - Cass could hear them clambering through the fireplace on the floor below them. They must've taken the floo network.

Cass continued to flip through her book - a muggle one Ana had sent her as a present, to which she hadn't responded. It was a good book, a really good one, in fact, but she couldn't bring herself to even think about Ana. Ana reminded her of her other friends, the ones that didn't trust her anymore, and that just hurt too much.

"The Virgin Suicides? Cassie, are you trying to tell me something?"

She jumped, the book flying out of her hand, not having noticed George walk through her bedroom door.

"Shit George, you made me lose my place!" She sighed, grabbing the book and searching for the page she had been on.

He sat down on the bed next to her, snatching the book out of her hand and opening to the first page. His eyes scanned the words, his expression darkening at every word. "What the actual fuck? What is wrong with this author? This is messed up!"

"It's good!"

"It's disturbing! I mean, just read the first line! What on earth?"

She shook her head, laughing, before remembering she was supposed to be mad at him.

Despite his protests on the topic, George continued to read the book, finishing the page and looking up at her with wide eyes. "Can I borrow this? I want to know what happens to Mary Lisbon."

"Weren't you just saying it's disturbing?"

"I'm emotionally invested now."

"Once I'm done with it, sure. Knock yourself out." Cass grabbed it out of his hands, setting it down next to her. "Is there something you want?"

"Uh, yeah, to see my girlfriend. It feels like I haven't seen you at all since...well..."

She stared at him like he was an idiot. "Yeah, that was kind of the point."

"I'm sorry. You know I'm sorry. I was stressed about dad and he wouldn't leave you alone. I didn't know what to do."

"How about not punch him? You broke his fucking nose, George!"

"I'm sorry!" He repeated, moving towards her, the blankets shifting under him. "Fuck, Cassie, the shit he was saying...it was messed up."

"You think I don't know that?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Why did you take the fall for me, then, if you're still angry with me?"

It was the same question Moody had asked days earlier, and her answer had also remained the same.

Because I love you.

Instead, she sighed. "Your mum looked about ready to kill you just for leaving the house, imagine if she'd known you'd gotten us bloody arrested. It was the easy way out, she wasn't about to question my mental breakdown."

"Thank you."

She shrugged.

"I still can't believe that was Connor. From the way you've described him, I figured he was..."

"What, some sort of sex god?" She rolled her eyes. "Because honestly, in bed, he was average at best."

"No, nice."

This caught Cass off guard.

"He used to be." Her voice was small, as realisation hit her. The Connor of now was not the same Connor who she'd spent her childhood with, and she wasn't the same Cass he'd grown up with. They'd both changed, evolved so much, they'd never get their friendship back to how it had been before. Their relationship had been damaged long before they chose to sleep together, and it was foolish of her to ignore that.

"Oh, Cassie, come here." George wrapped his arms around her, and it was basically impossible for her not to melt into his touch. Oh, how she'd missed him, missed the feeling of his skin on hers. Even though it had only been a few days that they hadn't been sharing a bed, it felt like ages.

"Are you still mad at me?" He whispered into her ear.

"Yes." She lied.

George pressed his lips against hers, soft and gentle. "How about now?"

"Yes."

His lips trailed from her mouth, onto her jawline and onto her neck and down, down, down. When they reached her collarbone, he bit down ever so slightly on her skin, and she let out an involuntary gasp. He leaned away, his brown eyes sparkling. "You like that, yeah?"

"Fuck, George, you're making it really hard to be mad at you."

"That's kind of the point, love." She hadn't even noticed his hands, which had been slowly travelling up her legs, under her skirt, until she felt them resting on her bare thighs. Cass wasn't sure which she liked more, the feeling of his touch or the way he called her love.

This time, Cass took the lead, cupping his face and pressing it against hers, their lips crashing together.

"Are you still mad at me?" He repeated his earlier question, this time his tone more desperate.

"Yes."

George shifted his position, pressing his body against hers as he leaned back in, grabbing her thighs and pressing himself in between her legs as he stood at the edge of her bed. "How about now?"

"Yes." She responded as she wrapped her legs around him, keeping him in place firmly against her. What she was saying yes to, well, that was completely unrelated to his question.

"You sure? You don't seem mad." He teased, his hand now going up her shirt. She responded to his touch eagerly, leaning into him.

"I'm absolutely furious with you, George Weasley."

"I'm absolutely in love with you, Cassie Crouch."

Oh, and wasn't that just the thing to do her in completely. Their lips meshed together once again, and the two quickly began tossing off the clothes that provided a barrier between their skin, the passion between them igniting in a way it hadn't ever before...

*

"We should probably go downstairs." Cass murmured into George's ear. Even after laying there for nearly half an hour, she was still breathing heavy, a bead of sweat dripping down her forehead.

"No way." His arms were already around her, and he increased the intensity of his grip, as if she were about to get up and run away. "I think we should just stay in here forever."

"Your family are sure to notice we're gone sooner or later. It's Christmas, after all."

"And?"

She rolled her eyes, realising that there was no use arguing with him. "You're ridiculous."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm sweaty. I need a shower."

"Can I join?" He raised his eyebrows, and she snorted.

"I don't think I could handle that. Unless you want a round two. I can't imagine it would be very pleasant, though, trying not to slip."

"Don't tempt me, Cassie. You're worth the risk."

Her body was sore as she stood up from George's softening grip and left her room, entering the adjacent bathroom and shutting the door behind her. The shower was a godsent, the hot water softening her aching muscles, though she already longed for George's embrace.

It had been good, really good. Great, in fact. Certainly better than her awkward, drunken fumbling with Connor, in which they both had no idea what they were doing or how to please each other. Her only regret about her time with George was that she hadn't waited, hadn't abstained from Connor and allowed George to be her first time.

"You good in there?" She heard George's voice echo from behind the door, just as she exited the shower and wrapped a towel around her body.

"I'm brilliant." Cass said as she opened the door, and walked over to her wardrobe.

"You took forever." George whined. He had put his pants back on, but his shirt remained discarded on the floor where Cass had thrown it at the beginning of their intimacy.

"I took like...five minutes."

"Five minutes not spent with me." He wrapped his arms around her from behind just as she opened the door to her wardrobe, and nuzzled his head into her neck. "Drove me bloody mad, really."

"You're ridiculous." She took a deep breath, allowing his touch to warm her up. Somehow, it felt infinitely better than her blissful shower, and it physically pained her to break away. "Now go put a shirt on, we want to look presentable for your family."

"What, like we weren't just shagging each other's brains out?"

"Precisely." She rolled her eyes as she pulled out a grey skirt and a cardigan. "Now turn around so I can change."

He stared at her incredulously. "We just had hot, passionate, sex, and you want me to turn around? Cassie, if you don't want me to see you naked, I think it's a bit late for that."

She sent him a fiery glare, and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine, I'm turning around, see?"

Shaking her head and laughing to herself, Cass quickly redressed, eyeing herself in the mirror once she finished. Her face was still flushed, but she could blame it on the hot shower if anyone questioned it.

"Well, shall we?" George raised his eyebrows as she turned to face him.

The two made their way downstairs, Cass willing herself to act natural. If anyone was suspicious of the two and what they had been up to alone in her room for the past hour, they didn't say anything, as they were in the middle of opening gifts.

"Ah, thanks mum." Ron forced a smile as he held up a red sweater with a large R on it to his chest. "I love it."

Sirius, who was perched on a sofa next to Lupin, looked up at their arrival. "There you two are. We were beginning to wonder what was taking you so long. Cass, an owl just brought this for you."

He handed over a rather large box, wrapped in typical Christmas paper. While it was about the size of her head, it was light in her grasp, light enough that an owl certainly wouldn't have had trouble carrying it.

She smiled, setting it down next to her as she took a seat on the floor. "Thanks."

Just as she began to open it, George cut her off. "Oi, you can't open that yet, you have to open mine first!" He motioned towards a tiny box under the tree, with her name written on it.

"Right, of course." She rolled her eyes, pulling out the box, along with the gift she had gotten George. "Here's yours."

"Aw, Cassie, you shouldn't have." He winked at her as he took her gift and began unwrapping it. When he saw what was inside, he frowned, giving her a funny look. "A diary?"

"No." She rolled her eyes. "It's a journal, I have a matching one. Whatever you write into it, I can see it, and vice versa. So we can communicate next year, once you leave Hogwarts. Assuming you want to..."

"Of course I do! What, do you think I'm just going to up and leave you once I graduate? Come on, Cassie, you know me better than that."

A blush crept onto her face. "Well, I'm glad you like it."

She turned her gaze down to her own gift, unwrapping it to reveal a small ring box. Just as she began to open the lid, Moody jumped up from his seat, where he had been watching the two intently.

"Oh hell no!" He said as he marched over to them, his mad eye fixed on George. Everyone else, who had been preoccupied with their own gifts and conversations, whipped around to stare at them with wide eyes. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"What?" Cass frowned, but he said nothing to her, instead focusing on George.

"You are too young, you have no money, no future yet, hell, you haven't even graduated! If you think for one moment that I'd ever allow Cassiopeia to marry the likes of you, you're mistaken! She's fifteen years old! You're lucky I even let her date you, Weasley!"

"Marriage?!" Cass cried, head whipping between George and Moody. "What the hell are you on about?"

George looked just as startled by the confrontation, his brown eyes growing larger and larger by the second. "I wasn't proposing, I swear!"

Moody pointed a finger at the ring box that Cass held. "What's that, then?!"

George stared at Moody incredulously. "A ring! I got my girlfriend a bloody ring for Christmas, that doesn't make it a marriage proposal! It's just jewellery!"

"Just a ring..." Moody repeated the words under his breath. The reddening in his face cooled down, and a long silence passed between the room. Eventually, he nodded, taking a step away from the two. "Right. Well...carry on then."

An amused glance passed between Cass and George, as she slipped the ring onto her ring finger, next to her middle finger where she wore her father's ring. The gemstone was a grass green - her favourite colour, and she grinned. "Thank you, George. It's beautiful."

He kissed her in response, earning a loud gag from Fred in the corner.

There were a few other gifts - a box of some sort funny looking beans from Luna that Cass reminded herself not to eat, her own knitted blue sweater with a C on the front from Molly, and from Moody, a grey cloth headband. She hadn't expected him to get her anything, she hadn't got hima gift, after all, and it took everything in her not to burst out laughing at his explanation.

"Girls like headbands, right?" He seemed so unsure of himself, so unlike the typical Moody she was used to, it was jarring.

"Er, yeah, love them." She said as she slipped it over her hair. She'd never worn a headband in her life, and imagined she looked quite silly, but she forced a smile anyways. "Thank you, Alastor."

It was nearing eleven, and almost everyone had left for bed, with the exception of Cass, George, and Moody, who were lounging about, talking about this and that. Cass had nearly forgotten about the large box Sirius said an own brought her, until George pointed it out to her again.

"Wonder who it's from." She said, mostly to herself as she took the lid off, and frowned.

It was a hat. A large, black top hat.

With gentle fingers, she pulled it out of the box to examine it, when a tiny piece of parchment fell out of it.

George reached over and grabbed the paper before she could, reading off from it. "A piece of our father. Merry Christmas, Cassiopeia."

The hat slipped from her grasp.

"Give me that." She snatched the piece of parchment out of George's hand before he could react. His brow was furrowed together in confusion, and Moody stood up from where he had been sitting on the couch.

"Cassiopeia, give me that-"

"It's his handwriting." His voice was small, weak, threatening to break. "This...this is my father's hat. This is Barty's handwriting. He sent me my father's hat."

"Cassiopeia-" He continued as she rose from the floor, trembling from head to toe. Her eyes scanned the piece of parchment over and over, trying to dissect it, trying to tell herself it was fake. But it wasn't, it was his signature handwriting, the one on all the letters he'd written her. It was from him. It was from Barty.

"He's alive." The word came out of her breathlessly, like she'd just ran a marathon. "I told you he's alive. You didn't believe me."

It was George's turn to speak. "Cassie, your brother is dead. You're safe."

Her brown eyes met his, as she didn't try to mask the hurt in her expression. "Dead? What do you make of this, then?"

"It's clearly some sort of prank. Someone's trying to mess with you." Moody reached over, grabbing the hat from off the floor and examining it.

She whipped around to face him, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm the rage that was building up in her. "Who would do that?! How would they get his hat?"

"It might not be his."

"Of course it is! You think I don't know my own father's bloody hat? He wore this stupid thing everywhere!" The rage now turned into panic, as her breathing grew shallow. She pressed her hands to her head, pressing against her temples with her palms as if to physically push out the growing sense of dread.

She'd thought she'd been getting better, but what if there had been nothing wrong with her in the first place? Nothing to get better from. It didn't make any sense, she knew that, but that fucking handwriting. It was how she identified his life in her third year, and it had come right back around again.

"Cassie, breathe. Just breathe." George urged her.

Breathe. She could do that.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat.

"You make sure she doesn't go anywhere, Weasley." Moody pointed a large finger at him, expression dark. "I'm going to figure out who's behind this bullshit. You keep her safe, got it?"