PAIN

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The cold air of the night was still heavy around them as Cassiopeia, Draco, and Snape Apparated directly into the grand hall of Malfoy Manor, the rest of the Death Eaters arriving moments later. The grandiose surroundings offered no comfort to Cassiopeia, whose mind was still haunted by the events at Hogwarts. Her hands were trembling, and Harry’s blood stained her palm—a stark reminder of the betrayal and pain she had left behind.

“Greyback!” Cassiopeia’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. “Why did you do that? Why did you kill!?"

Greyback turned, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “Just having a bit of fun, girl."

“The only reason you’re here is because the Dark Lord finds you useful,” she spat, her fury boiling over. “Do not mistake that for freedom to harm whoever you please.”

Greyback’s grin widened, and he took a menacing step towards her. “Careful, little Malfoy. You’re talking to a predator. And you, you’re nothing but a mouse pretending to be a lion.”

Cassiopeia’s hand tightened around her wand. “Do not underestimate me, Greyback.”

He laughed, a guttural sound that echoed through the room. “What are you going to do about it? You think you can scare me?”

All her pent-up anger and frustration burst forth. “Crucio!” she shouted, and the torture curse hit Greyback square in the chest. He howled in pain, dropping to his knees as the curse took hold.

“Cassiopeia, stop!” Snape’s voice was like a whip crack in the air. He rushed in, followed closely by Narcissa, her face a mask of horror.

Narcissa grabbed her daughter’s arm. “That’s enough, Cassiopeia!” she cried, pulling her back.

Snape moved quickly, countering the curse and pulling Greyback away. The werewolf glared at Cassiopeia, his eyes filled with murderous rage. “You’ll regret that, girl.”

“Not as much as you’ll regret hurting that child,” she retorted, her voice icy.

Bellatrix, who had been watching from the doorway, laughed maniacally. “Oh, this is delicious! Our little Cassiopeia showing some teeth! Maybe you’re not as soft as I thought.”

Draco, standing in the shadows, watched with wide eyes, fear and awe mingling on his face. He had never seen his sister like this, her wrath unleashed with such ferocity. It terrified him.

Narcissa stepped between Cassiopeia and Greyback, her tone brokering no argument. “This ends now. We do not fight among ourselves. There is a greater enemy to face.”

Greyback snarled but backed down, the pain still evident on his face. “This isn’t over,” he growled, casting a final glare at Cassiopeia before stalking out of the room.

Cassiopeia’s chest heaved with the effort of controlling her anger. Snape turned to her, his expression unreadable. “You must learn to control yourself,” he said quietly. “This kind of recklessness will get you killed.”

Bellatrix sauntered over, her laughter subsiding into a wicked grin. “I must say, that was quite entertaining. You’ve got some fire in you, sweetheart. Use it wisely.”

Cassiopeia nodded, still shaking with residual fury. Narcissa pulled her into a tight embrace, whispering soothing words. “It’s all right, Cassiopeia. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

Cassiopeia shook away her mother, and she stared at her with fury in her eyes.
She looked around, her vision blurring with tears she fought to hold back. Snape, ever vigilant, noticed her distress. His eyes, cold and calculating, fixed on her with an intensity that demanded obedience.

“Malfoy, come with me,” he commanded, his voice a sharp whisper.

Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a small, dimly lit room off the main hall. He shut the door behind them, enclosing them in a space that felt suffocating.

“Close your mind, Malfoy!” Snape hissed, his face inches from hers. His tone was not just an order but a desperate plea. “You cannot afford any slip-ups now. Close your mind to him!”

Cassiopeia nodded, trying to focus. The clamor outside, with Bellatrix’s triumphant cries and Fenrir Greyback’s guttural laughter, only added to her turmoil. She could feel the presence of the other Death Eaters celebrating their victory, their cruel joy a stark contrast to the anguish she felt.

“I’m trying,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s just… so much.”

Snape’s expression softened for a fraction of a second, a rare glimpse of his concern for her. “You must. If the Dark Lord sees even a flicker of doubt or weakness in your mind, it will be your end. And possibly Harry’s.”

The mention of Harry’s name made her flinch. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, and began to focus on Occlumency. She visualized building walls around her thoughts, sealing away her emotions and fears behind impenetrable barriers.

"You say it as if it is easy, Snape," sneered Cassiopeia, lifting her wand, pointing it towards the door, making sure no one could hear their conversation. "Muffliato."

"It is easy, Malfoy," sneered Snape, as he tried to turn back. Cassiopeia felt her entire body start to tremble, and her breath becoming heavy.

"There is no remorse in your eyes!" She yelled, looking at Snape with angry eyes. "Dumbledore gave me the task...to...kill him!"

"And he gave me the task to finish him off if you can't!" sneered Snape, he glared at her. "You agreed to this, Malfoy. Remember that. Do I sense regret?"

Snape looked at her, narrowing his eyes. His head held up high, as if to taunt her. Cassiopeia tried to read his eyes, but she couldn't. It was hard. She felt more tears fall down her face as she shook her head.

"Of course I regret it!" She yelled, pushing back Snape as hard as she could from the anger. "I hurt the boy that trusted me!"

"You agreed to this," reminded Snape, as he stumbled back a bit. "That is what I told Dumbledore. You are weak."

"Go tell Dumbledore that again, then!" She yelled, sneering at Snape. "I don't know what I'm feeling. I...It's too much..."

Cassiopeia knew Snape as a man who never felt remorse, who always had a stoic face. He had been the worst person ever, and she knew that. Yet, Snape couldn't help but feel quite the pity for the girl in front of him. He saw himself in her, he saw that he is exactly her.

"Close your eyes," said Snape, his voice above whisper. It was stern, but soft as well. "Remember why you are doing this. It will be worth it in the end. Close your mind."

Cassiopeia closed her eyes, putting her hands over her face.

“There,” Snape said, his voice calmer. “You’re doing better. Keep it up.”

Cassiopeia nodded, wiping her hand on a cloth to rid herself of the blood, though the stain on her heart remained. She followed Snape into the drawing room, where her mother stood, her expression as cold and composed as ever, despite the chaos surrounding her.

Bellatrix shrieked, her eyes wild with madness. “Did you see the old fool fall, Cassiopeia? Did you enjoy it?”

Cassiopeia forced a smile, knowing any hint of hesitation could be fatal. “Yes, Aunt Bella. It was… gratifying.”

Bellatrix cackled, her laughter a twisted symphony of pleasure and cruelty. “Good girl! We have shown them, haven’t we?”

Narcissa intervened, her voice smooth and authoritative. “Enough, Bellatrix. Let the children rest. They’ve had a long night.”

Bellatrix pouted but relented, her attention shifting to Fenrir, who was hungrily eyeing the surroundings. Narcissa gave a nod to Cassiopeia, indicating she should follow her.

Once they were alone in a quieter part of the manor, Narcissa turned to her daughter. “Are you all right, Cassiopeia?” she asked, her voice softening with maternal concern.

Cassiopeia took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her mother’s concern. “I will be, Mother. I just need some time.”

Narcissa nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. “Take all the time you need. We will face this together.”

Cassiopeia felt a small measure of comfort in her mother’s words, but the guilt and turmoil remained. She knew that the path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but she would have to find a way to navigate it. For now, she had to maintain her composure and keep her mind closed, guarding her thoughts and emotions from the Dark Lord.

As she settled into the oppressive silence of Malfoy Manor, Cassiopeia resolved to stay strong. She would protect those she loved, no matter the cost, and find a way to atone for the choices that had led her to this moment.

Cassiopeia barely noticed the path to her room, her vision blurred by tears and rage. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she let out a sob that had been building within her all night. She staggered to her desk, her breath hitching as she tried to stifle her cries. The room felt like a prison, the walls closing in around her, and she felt suffocated by the weight of her emotions.

With a scream of frustration, she swept her arm across the desk, sending books, ink bottles, and parchment flying. They crashed to the floor, the ink spreading like a dark stain, mirroring the turmoil in her heart. She grabbed a vase and hurled it against the wall, watching it shatter into countless pieces. The sound of breaking glass was cathartic, a physical manifestation of her internal chaos.

She sobbed harder, sinking to the floor amidst the wreckage. Her fists pounded against the cold stone, her cries echoing through the empty room. The events of the night replayed in her mind, each memory a sharp knife twisting in her gut. Dumbledore’s lifeless body, Harry’s betrayal and anger, the twisted joy of the Death Eaters—all of it was too much to bear.

“Why?” she screamed, her voice hoarse. “Why did it have to be like this?”

She blamed herself for her inability to protect those she cared about, for the lies she had told and the secrets she had kept. She blamed Dumbledore for putting her in this impossible position, for trusting her with a task that tore her apart. She blamed the Dark Lord for his cruelty, for turning her life into a nightmare of fear and violence. She blamed her parents for their choices, for dragging her and Draco into this dark world.

“Why?” she sobbed again, clutching her chest as if she could tear out the pain. “Why did it have to be me?”

The anger and sorrow consumed her, each breath a struggle as she tried to make sense of her world. She felt alone, lost in a sea of despair with no lifeline in sight. The burden of her choices weighed heavily on her, and for the first time, she doubted her ability to continue.

After what felt like hours, her sobs began to subside, leaving her drained and exhausted. She lay on the floor, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her breakdown. The room around her was a mess, a physical reflection of her shattered spirit.

Cassiopeia closed her eyes, taking deep, shaky breaths. She knew she had to pull herself together, had to find a way to keep going. But in that moment, all she wanted was to escape the pain, to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos.

She was alone.

☆☆☆

THE END OF 'THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE'
year 6. 
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