Lustful Alchemy

38. CASSANDRA

TW: this chapter contains explicit references to an attempted sexual assault. Please read it at your own discretion and do whatever makes you feel safe ❤️

I cross the grounds of Hogwarts with the hood of my cloak pulled low over my head, but the rain, which hasn't stopped pouring, still manages to sneak down my neck and soak my hair. It's one of those nights when it feels like the sky wants to pour all its sorrow onto the world, and perhaps it's fitting, given my devastated state of mind. I didn't even take the time to dry my eyes before leaving the Faculty Tower, but it hardly matters. No one will see me along the muddy path to Hogsmeade, much less realize that it isn't just the rain trailing down my cheeks.

Every step is an affront to the cold surrounding me, but the real chill is inside. Thoughts of Aesop hammer incessantly in my mind, accompanied by his words: 'I cannot love you because it would mean forgetting Mabel.' I don't need to recreate the scene in my mind—those words follow me like a constant echo, bouncing off every thought and shattering it.

Mabel. His ex-fiancée. Dead in Scarborough, in the ambush that made him what he is today, both in body and spirit. He had mentioned the ambush once, in a rare moment when it seemed there was a truce between us, but he had never spoken of a woman, let alone one so important to him.

But now... now I know it isn't just a painful memory. It's a weight he has been dragging behind him for years, a burden he refuses to let go of. A trauma that has shaped his entire life, marking a before and an after—an event that has prevented him from loving a second time until... until I entered his life.

A flash of lightning illuminates the path ahead, followed by a thunderclap that shakes the ground beneath my feet. The rain seems to intensify, but I don't slow down. I can't afford to. I have a meeting with Parry Pippin at the Three Broomsticks, and I can't be late.

I sent him an owl this afternoon, explicitly detailing everything I knew, and I made it clear that there was no point in pretending or ignoring my requests. I described Aesop's physical condition and hinted at his emotional state—not enough to reveal what happened, but enough to convince Pippin not to refuse a meeting to discuss what he knows about the cure.

The cure... Finding it has become all that's left for me, the only thread tethering me to hope. Despite everything, I still want to help Aesop, even though he hates me for it. But if I could discover something useful, if I could prove to him that the past doesn't have to be a prison... maybe, just maybe, he could see a future.

The wind howls around me, nearly tearing the cloak from my shoulders, but finally, I spot the flickering lights of Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks is a beacon in the darkness, the fire inside promising warmth and a temporary refuge.

A noise behind me makes me stiffen immediately. My heart speeds up, and my hand slides to the wand tucked into the inner pocket of my cloak. I look around, peering into the shadows of the path cloaked in rain and wind. It's an automatic reflex, an instinct I've learned to follow ever since I demanded my independence—not without its costs. After all, I am a woman walking alone at night, and the world has never been kind to us.

I grip my wand tightly, ready for anything. My breath catches for a moment until I see a figure approaching slowly, their steps sure but slightly unsteady on the muddy ground. I relax my grip on the wand when I recognize him: Aleister Rookwood.

I watch him carefully, though my hood partially obscures my face. He's a student at Hogwarts, a familiar presence. Of course, familiarity doesn't mean trust—since my return from Egypt, he hasn't missed a chance to throw sharp, nasty remarks my way, reminding me that I didn't choose him. In general, he's despised me from the start because of my lineage. But he's still a schoolboy, not a threat. I tell myself I can let go of the tension clouding my thoughts.