BLOOD MAGIC | GEORGE WEASLEY

73 - Malfoy's Mistake

musical mood: right where you left me – taylor swift

There was little alcohol could fail to solve, but your ex boyfriend, whom you were still in love with, finding out you'd joined a terrorist organisation wasn't one of them.

Cass didn't care that she was drenched, eyes red from sobbing, and probably already looked drunk as she stumbled into the Hogs Head. She didn't care that the eyes of the midnight pubgoers were fixed on her. She didn't care about anything at all.

She'd failed. Her mission had been failed. George was bound to tell someone what he knew, and the aurors would be there any second, to take her away, lock her up in Azkaban and throw away the key. Even worse, of course, was that You-Know-Who wouldn't take kindly to her incompetence, and would harm those whom she loved so dearly.

It was impossible to stop feeling, when she felt the world caving in around her.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. She told herself as she nursed a bottle of firewhiskey, the burning liquid becoming a godsent as it ran down her throat, numbing her senses.

Numbness. She'd give anything to be numb, numb to Connor, numb to George, numb to anyone and anything that could cause her distress. Oh, how she'd give anything to return to how she had been in her first year, apathetic, misanthropic, without a care for anyone outside of herself. She'd been horrible, but at least her emotions were safeguarded.

"Crouch?"

Oh for Merlin's sake.

"Hello, Dahlia." Cass greeted the eldest Burke sister, with a dull tone that clearly signalled she'd rather be poking her eyes out with needles than speaking to her.

"Mind if I sit?" She wore a false smile, reminding her of Umbridge.

"Kind of, yeah."

Dahlia took a seat across from her anyways, and Cass bit her lip to suppress a groan.

"You look like shit." She observed.

"So do you." Cass lied. Dahlia looked as gorgeous as ever. She'd cut her black hair to meet her shoulders, and new bangs covered her delicate, acne free forehead.

Dahlia rolled her eyes, knowing full well that Cass was wrong. Cass had always admired that about Dahlia, in the most secret of ways. Her confidence was radiant in the way only the most noble of purebloods possessed. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you?"

"Fancied a pint. I'm meeting my boyfriend here later."

"Still dating Grant Page, then?"

"Engaged, actually." Dahlia stuck out her hand to flash a shiny diamond ring on her finger. It was a generous size, one only the richest of families could afford. "He's a pureblood, so my family approves."

"Congratulations."

At least one of the Burke sisters will be marrying for love . Cass thought bitterly.

"Well, this has been lovely, catching up, but I really best be off. Don't want anyone at the school to notice I'm gone." Cass stood up from the table, setting down her firewhiskey, but before she could move, Dahlia's hand had wrapped around her wrist, cementing her in place.

"I know your secret, Crouch."

Her stomach fell to the floor.

"What are you on about?" She blinked, trying to feign indifference, though she could tell it wasn't working as she had hoped.

"You're on his side." Dahlia stood up this time, and leaned in as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. She was so close to her, Cass could smell her minty breath.