InsaneJournal

Who: Cassandra
Where: Cassandra's house
When: Monday morning
What: Cassandra sees her own death
Status/Rating: Incomplete, PG-13



It was practically a perfect day by Cassandra's estimation. She had spent most of it outside, because she was enjoying the sunshine. She worked in the garden a little. She was starting to grow some of her own things, mostly flowers, but also some herbs that she would be able to use in kitchen.

She had little warning before the vision hit her. She hadn't had a vision in some time and had enjoyed the relative calm that had been afforded to her.

But this vision was something different. It overtook her entirely, pulling her down before she could even begin to process what was happening.

When she emerged from the darkness that had swept her up, she noticed that she was in a rather plain room. She took a tentative step forward and found herself almost face-to-face with another woman. The woman was standing calmly, her hands held in front of her. Her hair was white, wispy, and held back in a thin braid that snaked its way down her back. It took Cassandra several seconds to realize that she was looking at herself. It seemed to send a jolt down her spine; her knees felt as if they might give way and she swayed for an instant.

She had never Seen anything this far ahead. Usually, it was the near future -- or, occasionally, she might see a slice of the future if something profound was going to happen. She figured that was why she saw snippets of what Gellert Grindelwald was going to do to the world every now and then. He would alter the wizarding world in every way he could.

But this has to be nearly a century into the future. It was nearly impossible to tell for sure.

Something clattered loudly behind her and Cassandra couldn't help but jump. She knew that she wasn't a part of this future. She was Seeing it without playing a part. When she turned and looked, she was surprised to see that one of the men from Lockewood was standing in front of her future self. He was recognizable, but certainly older than whatever age he was in Lockewood. He looked somewhat ragged, but also angry. He gestured his wand at her and Cassandra could only wonder what was going to happen. She struggled to remember his name. She was certain that he was one of the Malfoys. They had been an old pureblood family when she was in school and it seemed that the mania surrounding the purity of blood had only increased toward the end of the century.

He was saying something about a prophecy that Cassandra didn't quite catch. His words sounded uneven, almost jumbled. Still, he stalked forward with the sort of predatory grace that frightened her. Yet, her older self didn't move. She didn't seem frightened - or even surprised. But then, if Cassandra was Seeing this now, so far from this moment, she already knew what was coming.

Cassandra held her breath as he gestured his wand at her again. He almost jabbed it into the base of her throat. And still she was unmoving. It was a sort of calmness and serenity that Cassandra couldn't ever imagine developing. Yet, it didn't seem to impress Malfoy. A cruel snarl formed over his face.

Realizing what was about to happen, she started to step forward, knowing that it would do nothing. Before she had moved barely at all, a flash of green light filled the room.

Cassandra woke up with a gasp laying face down in the grass.