Blood Magic ✤ George Weasley ✓

47 - The End of an Era

musical mood: nothing left to say now - imagine dragons

Cedric was waiting for her when Cass exited Dumbledore's office. If she had been shaking before, that was nothing compared to now, where she was worried one wrong move might send her falling to the floor.

Bartemius was dead.

Her fault.

"Cass, is everything okay?"

"Fuck off."

"Listen, I never got to apologise to you about the Cho thing. I'm really, really sorry. I liked you a lot, I really did, it's just-"

"Cedric!" She cut him off, her voice high pitched and shrill. "I don't care what you have to say. I really, reallycouldn't care less. Please just leave me alone. I have bigger things to worry about right now."

"Right, right." He nodded, beginning to walk away. Just before he turned the corner, he stopped, and looked back at her. "I'm sorry again, Cass."

She might've felt bad for being so abrasive, had she not had something far bigger on her mind. She had something to do, she needed to know for sure if her father was dead, and there was only one way to confirm.

It didn't take long to get to Barty/Moody's office, which was just down the hall. Cass raised her good hand - her left hand and banged on the door, over and over until he answered.

"What?!" Barty groaned, his mad eye meeting hers with annoyance. "Oh, it's you."

"Let me in." She shoved past him, entering his office, which hadn't diminished in creepiness one bit. When he shut the door, she crossed her arms, staring at him expectantly.

"So, I assume you've heard." Barty smirked, as if this was amusing. It was to him, she supposed.

"Dumbledore told me everything that happened. Is he...dead? Is father dead? Did you kill him?"

"Yes." He said the word like it meant nothing to him, like it was just another word. Like yes wasn't confirming that he had killed his own father, that he had orphaned the two of them. "The bastard is dead. I buried him in that half breed Hagrid's yard."

It was like the wind was knocked out of her. Cass stumbled for her footing, leaning against his desk for support.

He was dead.

It was her fault.

"You...you said as long as I did what you'd said, he'd be safe."

"Oh, dear sister, what does it matter?" Barty seemed...impatient, as if he were annoyed by her presence. Like he had something better to do. She fought the urge to hit him. "We both hated him, and now he's out of our way."

"I never wanted him dead! You know that! He didn't deserve to die!"

Barty seemed infuriated by this, turning to her with reddening cheeks. His eyes were ablaze, staring at her like she had just sinned horribly. "He put me under the imperius curse for thirteen years! He sent me to Azkaban! His own son! He neglected me my entire life, and yours too! He's been terrible to us! Why do you feel sympathy for him? Why?!"

Cass's voice caught in her throat as she struggled to justify an answer. She knew, in her heart, Bartemius didn't deserve to die, he didn't deserve to have his finger cut off, but when Barty's pain had been laid out so plainly to her, it was hard to argue with it.