SNAKE - Regulus Black

Chapter one ~ The Train

Cassandra sat by the window of the Hogwarts Express, her dark eyes fixed on the stormy sky outside as the train rattled through the desolate countryside. The cheerful chatter of students in the compartment grated on her nerves, their naive excitement over the coming year feeling shallow, almost pathetic. She absentmindedly traced her finger along the frosted edge of the glass, her thoughts drifting far from the innocence of schoolwork and Quidditch matches. This year would be different—that much she knew. A restless energy stirred within her, darker than curiosity and colder than ambition. Power called to her, a force she had only begun to understand, but it whispered promises far beyond the petty charms and transfiguration spells of her classmates. As shadows gathered in the distance, Cassandra's reflection flickered in the window—sharp, calculating, and drawn to a path few dared to follow.

The train jerked slightly, pulling Cassandra from her thoughts. Across the aisle, a group of first years laughed, oblivious to the storm that loomed both outside and within her. She scowled, their innocence grating like a persistent itch. She once believed in the same fairy tales about good and evil, light and dark, but those days were gone. The world was far more complicated than Dumbledore and his Order would have them believe. Strength, she realized, came from embracing what others feared. Power wasn't found in the light; it was born from the shadows. And the Dark Lord—he understood that. A slow, knowing smile crept across her lips as she turned her gaze back to the window. This year, she would take her first step toward something greater, something far more dangerous. And she wouldn't look back.

Cassandra leaned back in her seat, her fingers absently brushing the smooth wood of her wand. Friends, she scoffed inwardly, glancing at the students huddled together in their little cliques. They clung to each other like lifelines, afraid of facing the world on their own. But friends were just distractions, weak ties that held you back when you needed to be ruthless. Cassandra had never been one to surround herself with people—most were useless, either too afraid to embrace what mattered or too stupid to see beyond their petty squabbles. She'd learned early that strength came from solitude, from relying on no one but herself. If she needed anything from others, it was compliance, not companionship. Friends would only falter when the time came for real power. She had no room for weakness. Not now, not ever.

Cassandra's thoughts wandered to her family, a twisted knot of pride and disappointment. Her parents, Erebus and Artemia, were loyal Death Eaters, deeply entrenched in the Dark Lord's inner circle. From the time she could walk, they had made their expectations clear—Cassandra was to follow in their footsteps, to carry the weight of the family's dark legacy. And she wanted that. She craved the power, the purpose. But then there were her siblings—Adrianna and Apollo, the Gryffindor twins, a disgrace to the family name. She could hardly look at them without sneering, their place in that pathetic House a constant source of shame. The Dark Lord's followers had whispered about it, her parents' cold gazes sharper than usual whenever the twins were mentioned. It was no wonder Cassandra kept her distance from them, pretending they didn't exist. They were weak, misguided fools who believed in bravery and nobility—traits that would get them nowhere in the real world. One day, they would understand just how small and naive they truly were. But by then, it would be too late. She would be standing on the side of power, and they would be nothing but distant, forgotten faces.

The compartment door slid open with a quiet scrape, but Cassandra didn't bother looking up. Whoever it was didn't matter—probably another fool looking for a place to sit, thinking they could chat away the hours until Hogwarts appeared on the horizon. She kept her gaze fixed on the window, her fingers still tracing the cold pane, hoping her silence would make them leave. But then, a voice broke through the uneasy quiet, soft but edged with something familiar. "Cassandra." She recognized it immediately—Regulus Black. Slowly, her eyes shifted to him, though her expression remained impassive. Regulus stood there, tall and composed, his Slytherin robes pristine. He wasn't like the others, and she knew it. Like her, he understood the weight of family, the pressure of expectations. But still, Cassandra said nothing, waiting for him to reveal why he'd interrupted her solitude. He wouldn't waste his time without reason. At least, he better not.

Cassandra's eyes flicked up to meet Regulus's, her expression as cold and unreadable as ever. "Regulus?" she asked, her voice low, a single word laced with curiosity and mild irritation. She didn't usually entertain interruptions, but his presence carried a weight she couldn't entirely ignore. There was something about him that she understood—more than she'd care to admit.

She studied him in silence, her mind briefly drifting to his brother, Sirius. Another disgrace, just like her own siblings. But she didn't need to say it. Regulus would feel that unspoken tension between them. She saw the same weight in his eyes, the pressure to live up to a legacy that neither of them could escape.

Leaning back, she crossed her arms, her gaze never leaving his. "Well?" she asked, her tone sharp, almost testing him. "Why are you here?"

Regulus hesitated for a moment, then, without a word, he slid the compartment door shut and sat across from Cassandra. His movements were deliberate, cautious, as if aware that her patience was thin. Once seated, he leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers with a quiet intensity.

"They've set the date," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the gravity of his words was unmistakable. "The next meeting. We'll both be there." His gaze flickered for a moment, as if weighing how much to say, before continuing. "It's happening sooner than expected. They want us marked."

Cassandra's expression remained unreadable, though inside, a current of anticipation stirred. This was what she had been waiting for—what she had been preparing for all year. The mark wasn't just a symbol; it was power, allegiance, a step into the shadows where true strength lived.

Regulus sat back slightly, his face tense but resolute. "It's time, Cassandra. We knew it was coming. Now there's no turning back." He paused, searching her face for any flicker of doubt, though he suspected he'd find none. "Are you ready?"

She smirked, "Of course I am."