musical mood: it's a sin - pet shop boys

" When I look back upon my life

It's always with a sense of shame

I've always been the one to blame

For everything I long to do "

Winky picked Cass up from the Kings Cross station, just as the sun began to set under the snowy horizon. The elf was absolutely beaming when she grabbed onto Cass's hand, and apparated the two into the parlour of their Stromness manor. While the weather in England had been fine, one peak outside of the window and into the Scottish Isles was the opposite - snow was coming down so hard and fast, she imagined anyone outside wouldn't be able to see a foot in front of themselves. She had planned on going over to see Connor, but maybe that would have to wait until the morning.

"Winky has made hot chocolate! Winky knows hot chocolate is Mistress Cassiopeia's favourite!" The elf was jumping up and down with excitement as she dragged Cass into the kitchen, and she recalled what had been said in her father's letter, that she was Winky's favourite.

"Thank you." She smiled at the elf as she handed her the mug of hot chocolate from the table. Taking a sip, she felt her body instantly warm up and her muscles untense.

"Mistress Cassiopeia must sit down! She looks tired!" Winky demanded, her tiny voice gone up an octave in pitch. With a snap of her tiny fingers, Cass's favourite chair from the living room was summoned next to her.

Merlin, I love this elf. Cass smiled as she laid back into the soft cushions.

"Is my father home?"

Winky shook her head, her massive ears flopping around. "No, Master Bartemius Sr. will not be back for a few hours. He is missing Mistress Cassiopeia terribly, though. He left Winky a list of things to do before Mistress Cassiopeia got back, see."

The elf reached into a pocket of her ragged outfit, and pulled out a folded piece of parchment, with Bartemius's distinguishable swirly handwriting.

Clean the parlourLight the fireplace and keep it tended toPick Cassiopeia up from King's Cross at 20:15Cook dinner

Cass rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling. While she was nervous, a part of her had grown excited to see her father. He had seemed so keen for her to come back to Stromness in his letter, she began to have hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd actually develop a relationship.

Another part of her wondered if maybe Bartemius knew anything about Quirrell. It was a stretch, but possible. He had been Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, before Barty was arrested. If Quirrell had a record of magical malpractice during the war, he would remember.

Bartemius never forgot those things.

Cass stayed up on the couch until two in the morning, waiting for her father to come home, though she wasn't sure exactly why. However, fatigue eventually caught up to her, and she fell asleep on the soft couch cushions, still in her Hogwarts sweater and skirt. When she woke up late the next morning, Bartemius was already gone.

Oh well. At least she had time that day to see Connor.

Assuming Connor wanted to see her. She took a deep breath, forcing the thought out of her mind.

"I made Mistress Cassiopeia red and green pancakes for breakfast, because it is Christmas Eve!" Winky jumped up as Cass walked to the front door. Outside the window, the weather had cleared, and a fresh blanket of snow laid across the town. "Well...it is nearly lunchtime now so...Christmas Eve pancakes for lunch!"

Right. It was Christmas Eve. She had nearly forgotten about the holidays - her and her father didn't do much to celebrate every year, anyways. During her primary school years, she'd be lucky if she even saw him on the actual Christmas day.

"I'll eat them later." She said, pulling on her shoes, and looking at her reflection in the glass window. Her hair was a bit messy, and her uniform wrinkled from sleeping in it, but she looked generally put together. She didn't want to waste any more time - she needed to go see her friend, to make sure he still was her friend. If she looked slightly off, so be it.

"Where are you going?" Winky ran up to her, just as she was about to open the door, and step out into the cold.

"Connor's house."

Where else would she be going? It wasn't like she had any other friends in this town.

"Wait!" The elf cried out, so suddenly and dramatically that Cass jumped in alarm.

She turned around with raised eyebrows. "Is everything okay?"

Winky, being the odd and overdramatic elf she was, looked close to tears. "Winky hates to keep Mistress Cassiopeia from her friend, but...Winky does not know how to say this."

Cass' stomach dropped to the floor. Oh shit, had something happened to Connor?! She assumed he was ignoring her, it had never occurred to her that something could've been wrong.

"What's wrong? What happened?" She didn't attempt to mask the panic in her voice.

"Nothing happened!" Winky assured her quickly, clearly sensing Cass was seconds away from a full blown anxiety attack. "It is just...Winky is not allowed to let Mistress Cassiopeia see her muggle friend. Master Bartemius Sr. has forbidden Winky. If it were up to Winky, she would let her Mistress Cassiopeia do whatever she pleased, but it is not. Winky is so sorry!"

Usually, when Winky would cry and apologise for something that wasn't her fault, Cass would jump in to assure her it was okay. But this time, she couldn't, her hand frozen on the door handle in shock.

"I don't understand. He-he doesn't want me to be friends with Connor anymore?" She sputtered out, to which Winky nodded sadly.

Bartemius had always been a bit apprehensive of Cass having a muggle friend, but only out of concern for the magical secrecy. There had never been a moment in their life where she felt like Bartemius was upset about her friendship - if anything it was a relief, so she had something keeping her busy, keeping her out of his hair.

Cass was suddenly struck with a realisation, one so strong she physically flinched.

Her father had taken her letters meant for Connor, and he took any ones sent from Connor towards her.

"Where is he?" Cass demanded from the elf after several silent moments.

"Where is who?"

"My father."

"Master Bartemius Sr. is at work. In his office at the Ministry of Magic, Winky thinks." Winky rushed on her tiny legs to keep up with Cass as she ran back into the parlour, the heels from her boots echoing on the wood floors. "Where is Mistress Cassiopeia going?"

Cass reached the fireplace, and grabbed a generous handful of the floo powder hanging in an old flower pot above it. Her hand was trembling with rage, and she held onto the powder so tight that it began to seep through the cracks of her fingers.

"I'm going to pay my father a visit."

The Ministry was particularly lively that day. It was Christmas Eve, and therefore that meant everyone had to be as loud as possible, dress up in bizarre clothes, and hand out muggle candies while wearing fake white beards. Amos Diggory had stopped by twice now in his red coat and white beard, pretending to be a lad called Santa and trying to give Bartemius something he called a candy cane.

He turned Amos down both times.

Bartemius has more important things to do, after all. The Triwizard Tournament would be coming up in a few short years, and preparations for it had begun. Finally, being the Head of International Magical Cooperation was interesting.

He'd given up on his hopes of being Minister, or even getting his old position back in the department of Magical Law Enforcement, which was probably for the best. He might not have deserved the demotion at the time, but now, he sure as hell wasn't worthy of anything better.

It was a bit past 11, when a body flew out of his fireplace and onto the stone ground, coughing as ash flew all over the room.

Bartemius shot to his feet. He recognized the person immediately - how could he not? Panic set in him instantly, he knew something was wrong. Why would she be here otherwise?

"Cassiopeia? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" He rushed over from his desk to help her up, though she violently shook him off when he gripped her arm.

"Don't fucking touch me!" She screamed as she pushed herself up, and Bartemius stumbled back, blinking wildly. He had never once seen his daughter like this - she was usually so cold, so reserved. Something must've been wrong - very wrong indeed.

"Language!" He scolded through a trembling voice, though it was evident that his words held no authority to his daughter anymore.

"You stole my mail! You told Winky not to let me see Connor! Why? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?" Cassiopeia was hysterical, angry tears running down her bright red face, and for a moment, he was worried she may get physically violent with him.

Bartemius was silent for several moments. Of course, the Moore family. That boy was the only thing Cassiopeia actually cared about, it seemed. He knew that. But he hadn't predicted the fallout would be this bad.

"I don't hate you." He said finally, looking down at his daughter with an unreadable expression.

Of course she thought he hated her, any child would. She didn't know why he did what he did, and why he behaved a certain way through her childhood. He so badly wished to tell her, wished to make Cassiopeia understand.

Maybe someday he would tell his daughter everything. Someday, when the skeletons in his closet were just that - skeletons, instead of physical embodiments of the secrets he kept close, not yet decaying.

It was times like these that Bartemius wished more than anything that Diana was still alive. Where he wished he had been the one to die, instead of his beloved wife. She would've known how to be the perfect parent to Cassiopeia, she wouldn't have made all the mistakes he did.

"Stop lying!" Cassiopeia demanded, though the crack in her voice caused it to sound more like a plea. "You don't want me to be happy! You're taking away my only friend - he probably hates me now!"

"I can't explain everything now...but I did it for the good of everyone." Bartemius tried to keep his voice stable. It wasn't a lie either - sure, it wasn't the entire truth, but he didn't think he could bear to outright lie to her again. Not today. "You'll understand when you're older."

"I won't." She shook her head, her messy hair flying around wildly. "I won't ever understand. After the letter you wrote me, I really thought.." Her voice caught in her throat, and she refused to finish her sentence.

Bartemius blinked. For once, he had no idea what she was talking about. "What letter?"

"Don't play dumb. The letter you wrote me on Halloween! Where you told me to come home for the holidays, that you missed me."

"I never wrote you a letter." Bartemius insisted.

Why would he tell her to come back for the holidays? The longer she was away from Stromness, the safer she was, and luckily, she hated the island town almost as much as he did. When he had heard she had signed up to return home, he had been completely dumbfounded. Surely she would want to stay at Hogwarts with her new friends, instead of with the father she thought hated her.

As if he could ever hate her. But, better she think that, as long as it kept her safe.

Cass paled, though tears still fell down her freckled face, that she had inherited from her mother. "But...it was signed by your name. It talked about Winky..."

Bartemius's stomach dropped to the floor, as realisation set in, a panic so severe he was unable to mask it.

Oh Merlin, no. He didn't, he bloody didn't...

"Cassiopeia." He said, trying to steady his trembling voice. "I need you to go to the Moore's house. Now. Stay the night, if you can."

She blinked in disbelief. "You...want me to go to Connor's house? But you-"

"I've changed my mind." He said hastily. "Tell Winky it's alright."

His reasoning for banning her from seeing that Connor kid was far more complicated than he was sure his daughter thought. Chances are, she assumed it was from a prejudice against muggles, or just to make her life miserable.

Better she assume the worst in him, than know the truth.

Cassiopeia almost instantly went back through the fireplace and to the Crouch manor, surely trying to rush before he changed his mind.

Once again, Bartemius was alone. Not for long, though. He had to deal with his son.