Clover Hawkings and the Triwizard Tournament

26. Cass Unraveling

"They're still here, in that important room- you got their pictures up on the wall...

up on the wall....."

- Wallows, Do Not Wait 

I appear in Cass's living room without my stomach.

Metaphorically, of course- my stomach is still very much attached- I think. It's sloshing and spinning like on a merry-go-round.

Around me, everything looks familiar- the beige carpet, green couches, and a paring of knitting needles knitting a scarf in the corner.

Cass sits on one of the couches. Her red hair is straightened, her robes are over her jeans. She stares at me with a pretty bold expression, considering she's wearing crocs indoors. I drop everything I had been clutching and fly over to her not-exactly-welcoming arms. "You're alive!"

Cass grunts, and I remember I'm probably crushing her. She's here. She's not dead, or sick, she's in my arms and smelling like fear.

I pull away. "Is Mr. Tubble dead and/or dying?"

"No?"

"So, what's going on?" Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, anger is seeping in its place.

"You- you brought your trunk?" Cass looks at my abandoned trunk, embossed with the words Clover Hawkings.

"Yeah. I didn't know how long I would be here- can we just get to the point?" I say impatiently. Cass is still staring at the word Hawkings, not meeting my eye.

"Um- well- it's a long story."

"Well, I'm really impatient, so chop chop."

Cass turns to me with an exasperated expression. "Let's go to the kitchen."

Cautious, I follow her to the kitchen. With a wave of her wand, she puts water in the kettle and onto the stove.

"You're making tea," I note with distaste. Something is most certainly afoot.

"Go on, sit down," Cass ignores me.

"This is a sitting conversation?" I preach lightly in a bar stool, watch her carefully. Maybe there was a dead body in here or something....

"I wouldn't have brought you here if it weren't," Cass said with false cheer. She stops. "Although I have to admit, I didn't think you would come rushing over here."

"Your letter fucking said 'come home immediately!'" I almost yell, pointing to the living room, where the letter now lay.

Cass looked flustered. "I was thinking more of a week or two immediately...or three...or-"

I glare. Cass crumbles. She magicks a cup of tea by her and sits down across from me.

"Clover, I...." Cass stares at the floor for a long while. The words aren't coming, her face is drawn and tight.

By God, I realized. She's just as broken as I am.

"I...I don't know how to tell you this- it's always been so hard for me-"

"Tell someone who cares," I say, the anger rushing back.

Cass looks up and glares. "I am."

I bite my tongue. That was rude and unnecessary. "Sorry," I mumble.

Cass nods her head, but doesn't press. "I have something to show you."