𝕭𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 || Fred Weasley

62

They were all dead. Every single one of them. Gone. Her family was on her right. Their eyes were open, colorless with no life. On her left were Tonks, Hermione, George, and Fred. They laid there motionless — dead.

Why she stayed on the dark side when so many people she loved would die? She had hope — that darn hope that Fred had given her. She hoped being on this side was going to be okay, that he wouldn't kill those she loved. After all, he promised.

"Cassie! Cassie, wake up!" Cassie shot up in her bed. "It's almost time," her mother informed. "Go get washed up."

Cassie nodded, then entered the bathroom. She refreshed herself, then changed into a white top tucked into a black skirt. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and she had put on her boots. Before leaving her room, she pulled on a black cloak.

When she entered the dining room, she saw her family sitting down towards the middle of the large table. There were already a few Death Eaters present and at the very end where her father would normally sit was the Dark Lord.

Cassie was about to sit next to Draco, but the Dark Lord said, "You'll sit beside your aunt, Cassie."

Cassie glared at the ground and walked towards the seat between her mother and Bellatrix.

"Fetch the woman, Wormtail," the Dark Lord ordered. "And keep her quiet."

It was silent. No one said anything. It was always like this when they had a meeting. No one dared to speak until spoken to.

"Yaxley. Snape." Cassie looked up. Snape was at the threshold of the door, beside him was Yaxley. "You are very nearly late. Severus, here." He gestured to the seat on his right. "Yaxley, beside Dolohov."

Once they were seated, the Dark Lord spoke again. "So?"

"My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall."

"Saturday... at nightfall," repeated the Dark Lord. His eyes fastened upon Snape's. Some looked away, in fear they would be met with the ferocious gaze. Snape, however, looked calmly back into the Dark Lord's face and, after a moment or two, his lipless mouth curved into something like a smile.

"Good. Very good. And this information comes... "

"From the source we discussed," said Snape.

"My Lord." Yaxley had leaned forward to look down the long table at the Dark Lord and Snape. All faces turned to him.

"My Lord, I have heard differently."

Yaxley waited, but the Dark Lord did not speak, so he went on. "Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns seventeen."

Snape was smiling.

"My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time; he is known to be susceptible."

"I assure you, my Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain," said Yaxley.

"If he has been Confunded, naturally he is certain," said Snape. "I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"The Order's got one thing right, then, eh?" said a squat man sitting a short distance from Yaxley.

Voldemort did not laugh. His gaze had wandered upward to the body overhead.