SNAKE - Regulus Black

Chapter nine ~ Burning Possession

Cassandra St. Clair swept into the Great Hall with her head held high, her robes billowing behind her like a dark shadow. Her features were a mask of defiance, every step calculated to exude indifference. She had become a master at ignoring Regulus Black, even when he made it nearly impossible.
The morning owls swooped in, scattering letters and parcels across the hall. Cassandra's heart sank as a familiar emerald-green box landed gracefully in front of her plate. The elegant handwriting on the card left no doubt about the sender. Another gift from Regulus.

Without hesitation, she shoved the box aside, ignoring the curious glances of her housemates. "Honestly, it's getting pathetic," she muttered to Narcissa, who sat next to her.

Narcissa raised a perfectly arched brow. "Pathetic? He's sending you priceless gifts, Cassandra. Do you know how many girls would kill for his attention?"

"I don't want his attention," Cassandra snapped, her voice low but firm. "If he thinks he can buy my forgiveness, he's sorely mistaken."

Narcissa didn't press further, but Cassandra could feel his cousin's disapproving gaze lingering.

That afternoon, Cassandra made good on her plan to twist the knife a little deeper. She allowed Evan Rosier to walk her to Potions, laughing just a little too loudly at his jokes. In the courtyard, she sat close to Barty Crouch Jr., her fingers lightly grazing his arm as they shared a quiet conversation. By the end of the day, whispers of Cassandra's newfound charm were spreading through the castle like wildfire.

🕸️

  Regulus
From the shadows of the Astronomy Tower, Regulus watched her. He wasn't one to let emotions cloud his judgment, but the sight of Cassandra smiling at other boys sent a pang of something sharp through him—jealousy, perhaps, or anger.

For weeks, he had been patient, letting his gifts speak where his words had failed. He had sent her enchanted roses that never wilted, rare tomes bound in dragonhide, and even a necklace inlaid with obsidian and emeralds. Each token of his affection had been met with cold indifference or outright disdain.
Now, as she leaned in too closely to Crouch, Regulus's jaw tightened. Was this deliberate? Surely, she wasn't truly interested in them.

🕸️

  Cassandra
Cassandra felt Regulus's gaze before she saw him. It burned into her back as she pretended to listen to Barty's story about some escapade in Knockturn Alley. She smiled and nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

She wasn't sure when the idea to use other boys had struck her, but the satisfaction of seeing Regulus watch her every move was undeniable. If he wanted to play games, so could she.

"Are you even listening, Cass?" Barty asked, his tone laced with amusement.

She blinked and forced a sheepish smile. "Of course, I am. You were saying something about the cursed mirror?"

Barty smirked but didn't press her. She appreciated that about him—he didn't expect too much.

As the evening wore on, Cassandra found herself wandering the corridors alone. The castle was quieter at night, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken words.

"Cassandra."

His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly to face Regulus.

"What do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"I want you to stop," he said, stepping closer.

"Stop what?" she shot back, though she knew exactly what he meant.