[book 1 of the "badlands" series]
•i think there's a flaw in my code•
It was ironic that a member of the least favorite House at Hogwarts was the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament.
Cassius Warrington had never expected to be seen as anything oth...
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Persephone's screams pierced through the night like a poison-tipped arrow; deadly with a promise of something worse to come. Cassius wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her close to his side, as if he could protect her. But it was as if he were a ghost, one that Persephone couldn't see or feel. Her screams continued as her stare remained fixated on the Dark Mark swirling above them.
Cassius knew what that mark was and what it represented. According to his mother, it was the same mark that was left over his own house when Cassius was very young, no more than two years old. He and his mother had been out shopping that day, and when they returned, the mark had been painted in the afternoon sky. His father laid dead on the kitchen floor inside.
The Dark Mark decorated Cassius's nightmares for years afterwards, even after he left for Hogwarts. He was terrified that one day, he'd return home and the mark would once more be slithering above his home, and his mother dead.
But Persephone. . .her past was different. Darker. The Dark Mark was more personal to her, though Cassius didn't know why. Persephone had never offered the information, and he had never pressed for it. He knew her boundaries, and Cassius would never dare cross them.
But as Persephone's screams echoed through the night air, Cassius's eyes tracked a large mass of people running from one direction, fleeing like a herd of frightened deer. He frowned, and squinted his eyes, searching for the pursuers of the running wizards and witches.
And then, Cassius saw them.
Illuminated by firelight, a large group of masked figures approached in the distance. From his vantage point, they moved in silence, their black robes fluttering behind them in the stale wind. Though he couldn't be sure, Cassius thought he could see people floating in the sky above the masked figures, as if they were puppets being held up by invisible strings.
Then, it dawned on him. They were Death Eaters, a group of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's most devoted and evil followers. The same group of people who murdered his father.
This was dangerous. Persephone was still screaming, and Cassius knew that the sound of it would be like a red flare to the Death Eaters, who preyed on weakness of any form.
He had to protect her.
"Persephone!" Cassius shouted as loud as he could, pulling on the girl's arm. He gripped her hand inside his own, and squeezed it hard.
Her screaming stopped immediately, it's echo disappearing into the dark night. Persephone's eyes were wide and wild, and they clutched onto Cassius's. He held her gaze steadily, not daring to look away.
