We're the Weasleys || Weasley Next Gen

Part 2, Chapter 52- Cassiopeia's POV

***A/N*** hello! This chapter is a little earlier than I said it would be; I'm hoping to get an Ophelia POV out on Sunday so there will be two updates this week! I'm nearly done school by mid-April ish all my attention will be on this fic! Thanks for being so understanding about the whole once-a-week update thing, I always feel a little bad about not providing a bunch of new content all the time. Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and keep your eye out for the update this weekend! Much love xx

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It's nearly Easter.

It's nearly Easter and I'm sitting in the Slytherin common room with my boyfriend who is on the verge of hysterics because he has to write a letter to his father explaining where he is going to be for the holiday.

I told him he didn't have to. That we can just do what we did over Christmas. But I was met with a laugh, a sigh, a sniffle of the nose, and a pat on my knee, "I don't want to have to hide from him for the rest of my life darling. That's no way to live."

And now it's my turn, to laugh, to sigh, to put a comforting hand on his knee, as I watch him struggle for hours to tell his father a simple message, 'I'm not coming home.'

"It's getting late," Theseus mumbles, wiping a stray tear from under his eye, "You my love, should go to bed."

I rest my head on his shoulder and I can literally feel his entire body relax because of my simple touch, "I go to bed when you go to bed. And even still I don't think I'm getting any sleep tonight."

"Yeah," Theseus whispers, "Me neither."

Theseus picks up the quill again and twirls it around in his fingers like he does with his wand right before he goes to cast a charm. It's something that he's tried to teach me about a hundred times at this point. I can't tell you how many accidental sparks I've shot at him because I've dropped my wand instead of twirl it.

"I – I can't seem to get my hand to do any of the writing," Theseus stares at his own hand and laughs dryly at himself, "My whole body is rejecting the idea of contacting my father again."

"Here," I wrap my hand around his, the one holding the quill, "You tell me what to write and I'll put it on parchment for you."

I slowly take the quill from his hand but he grabs a hold of it right before I can fully pull it away, "No. I don't want you to have any contact with him. Not even through a third party like this. Not a chance in hell am I letting him get a hold of the one thing in this world that makes me human."

I do my very best not to totally melt at his comment. The way he said it so easily, so sure of himself. I'm the light of his life and he's not afraid to tell me or anyone else about it.

"I'm going to have to meet him or whatever eventually Theseus," I whisper.

"Over my dead body," He tosses the quill onto the table and runs his hands through his hair, "You should really get some sleep Cassiopeia. I've been keeping you up all week it feels like."

"All month actually," I joke. I nudge him with my shoulder a bit when I realize that he's not laughing, "Hey, look at me?"

It takes a second but Theseus slowly turns his head towards me and meets my eyes. I put my hand on his cheek and softly brush my thumb along his face, "We have a week till Easter holiday. You don't have to write to him tonight."

"But I..."

I kiss his lips as softly as I can to cut his sentence off. They're salty from his tears and chapped because he refuses to wear the lip balm that I got him during the winter, "You do not have to write to your father tonight."