Killing Arabella Figg had been a simple matter. Sheād been a valuable member of the last Order, had watched over Harry Potter and provided him sanctuary. It had seemed likely she might again provide a safe house for the Order. It had made sense to eliminate her. But Cassius had to admit, for him, the thought of sending Erin Figg into mourning had provided much of his own motivation. Personal revenge was not something he made a habit of; he considered it pointless and distracting. Even now, at the thought, he frowned. Troubling, that he might allow himself to beocme so distracted again. It might have been more sensible to strike directly at Erin, if heād had to do anything, to elimate the real problem. But with her being so close to Astoria ⦠that too was dangerous.Ā
He was entirely capable of engaging in conversation with someone while contemplating how benefical their death would or would not be, face impassive. Though Cassius had tried to smile at her, he found he couldnāt, too irritated, too aware that sheād taken the place that had belonged to him.Ā āOh, I wouldnāt trouble Astoria. She prefers you, after all.ā HIs eyes narrowed, not missing the air of accusation behind apparently innocent words.Ā āOf course, I read the Prophet. My family is very worried. My grandfather, you know, is on the loose and he has never forgiven my father or my grandmother for refusing to shelter him.ā The story fell easily from his lips, considering how many times heād repeated it. He added venom to it, āIām sure you know precisely what itās like to fear for family - even to grieve for them.āĀ
Of course, Erin lived in complete ignorance of who Cassius Rookwood was. She had her suspicions, plenty of them, but none of them came close to the truth. Not even when he mentioned grief. Not even when he was so overtly antagonistic (Ā something she was in returnĀ ). She thought him capable of cruelty, of violence, sure: but the idea that heĀ was the one who had killed her grandmother, that this antagonism went further than snide comments and resentment? She didnāt know, and perhaps she was better off for it. If she did, after all, sheād most likely be dead, or fearing her life more than she did already at the very least.
Maybe ignorance was bliss, after all.Ā
She smiled at his words, very much capable of it. Satisfaction coursed through her. While the fact that Cassius Rookwood walked the halls of the Ministry did not sit well with her, her having taken his spot did. It felt right.Ā āThat she does,ā she said, her tone a bit more smug than she intended it to be. Erin didnāt usually brag, but it was hard not to in front of the likes of Cassius. As he mentioned his grandfather, suspicions bubbled in her stomach.Ā āI do hope your family remains safe in these trying times.ā Erin didnāt think it a lie; she didnāt want Cassius to end up hurt because of his grandfather. She wanted to see him fired, brought down, shamed. Imprisoned, possibly, if anything could be proven.Ā āIt must be quite stressful, not knowing where he is.ā And then there was that comment. Her lips pressed together, and her face remained steely. Her fingers shook harder, and she lowered the hand holding her cigarette to hide it. She refused to bare her grief. She refused. Cassius Rookwood did not deserve her weakness, her vulnerability. āYes.ā The word was spoken tersely.Ā āYes, I know.ā