Disclaimer: Most of this is the work of J.K. Rowling, not me.
His Inner Circle: Chapter Two
The first few weeks of sixth year passed by in its usual fashion. As an older student, she had the ability to choose her own electives. This year she chose Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. She wasn't much of an animal fan, nor did she believe in the asinine concept of fortune telling, so Care of Magical Creatures and Divination were out. Muggle Studies was completely out of the question, so her best options were the two she selected.
Although it wasn't an exam year for Brielle, she could already feel her professors' pressuring them to be ready for the N.E.W.T.s, which she wasn't even positive that she'd be at school to take due to the Dark Lord's confidential plan.
On one particular evening before dinner, Brielle and Lucy were working on a foot long Potions essay in the library. They were seated in the far corner, which was closest to the books written on the history of various potions. Sergey would have joined them, but he had N.E.W.T. Alchemy. It was arguably the toughest course Hogwarts had to offer, but since it was a required course in order to apply for a Curse Breaker, he had to persevere through the mountains of essays and assignments.
"'Elle, can you flip to page forty eight and help me make sense of the second paragraph?", Lucy asked in a hushed tone. Her robes were disheveled from the heavy amount of reading they'd been doing, but Lucy had managed to keep her blonde curls in place with a special potion she had purchased in Hogsmeade the previous weekend.
Brielle found the paragraph in question, and absentmindedly chewed the end of her quill as she tried to analyze it. Although she was far from a Vincent Crabbe when it came to keeping her marks up, Potions wasn't exactly her best subject.
"Well, in the last chapter, it mentioned that in 1386, Pietas the Fuller coined the idea of using mashed glowbeetle thoraces in Veritaserum instead of powdered narwhal horns. Perhaps the reason that the change occurred was due to a sharp narwhal population decrease at the time?", she said with a shrug.
Lucy sighed, and glanced down at both of their blank pieces of parchment. Part of Professor Snape's N.E.W.T. prep was an essay twice a week, and the latest one had to thoroughly explain why some minor change occurred in the ingredient list of Veritaserum.
"It's a possibility", she finally said, placing her quill back into its ink pot for the millionth time. "But keep in mind that in the fourteenth century, the Age of Natural Empowerment took place. I thought the natural resources and organisms on Earth were at an all time high back then?"
As Brielle was about to answer, she heard a deep voice from behind her chair laugh. A robed arm reached over her shoulder and turned to page one fifty four, which was headed 'The History of the Alihotsy Draught'.
"In 1382, after Thelonius the Great took over the Wizarding Empire, he outlawed the use of the narwhal for medicinal purposes", the familiar voice explained. "Since this also made it illegal to use the horn powder in potions of any kind, a substitution had to be utilized. Glowbeetles were plentiful at the time, and the production process was much simpler than grinding narwhal horns. Therefore, the reason narwhal horns became omitted from Veritaserum was due to the fact that its use was illegal."
Brielle's eyes widened a bit, and she turned around in her chair to find out of the speaker matched who she believed it was. She turned out to be correct, and her face of surprise quickly twisted into a deep scowl.
It was Adrian Pucey.
They didn't get along very well, mainly because Adrian and Sergey had some type of rivalry. He made it his lifelong ambition to pester Brielle and Lucy whenever he had the opportunity.
Adrian straightened his tie, even though it was fine the way it was before. After a few moments of silence, he chuckled. "I know you birds fancy me, but do you plan on continuing to stare at me without even saying thanks?", he asked.
Brielle could feel the angry blush creeping up her neck and cheeks. The Slytherin in her became upset that Adrian had one-upped her, and was determined to regain composure.
"I'm trying to figure out why you're not lurking in some dark corner or helping Malfoy bully first years", she calmly said. Brielle turned back around in her seat and placed her quill back into the pot, managing not to shatter it. Lucy had not responded since she was still paraphrasing and scribbling down Adrian's summary.
"Sorry to dampen your mood, Murphy, but Blaise was injured at Quidditch practice earlier today. I know how much you adore him, so I told Professor McGonagall that you'd be honored to pass through the infirmary after dinner and help the bloke out with his N.E.W.T. Transfiguration assignment due tomorrow. Hope you don't mind."
Brielle furrowed her eyebrows. "Why me? I'm not even taking N.E.W.T. Transfiguration."
He walked around the thick table Brielle and Lucy had stacked books on, and tossed Lucy's rucksack onto the ground so he could sit in the third chair. "I know, but since everybody else in our class declined, she asked us if anybody in one of the dunce classes may want to do it. Luckily, I volunteered you. Have fun."
Lucy rolled her eyes, and pointed her wand at her bag. In a few moments, the spilled contents moved back to their place, except for her old copy of 'The Monster Book of Monsters', which would have taken a significant chunk of Adrian's head off if it wasn't for the charmed leather strap keeping it shut.
"Was that really necessary?", she asked after her rucksack made its way over to her lap. "Considering that there are hundreds of empty chairs in the bloody library?"
It was true. Wednesday evenings apparently weren't popular homework times, since only a handful of students were there. She had counted three Slytherins, now that they unfortunately were graced with the presence of King Git, seven Ravenclaws, and two Hufflepuffs. Hermione Granger was probably in some secluded area of the library, but Brielle had neglected to count her as a Gryffindor since she practically lived in there.
"Lucy, don't hold the boy up to such high standards", Brielle said, stowing her stationery and year six Potions primer into her black backpack. She decided that she would write the essay in the girls' dorms later that night, since she refused to give Adrian the pleasure. "His head is far too deep in his arse for him to tell his left from his right."
Although she wasn't looking up, Brielle could feel the cold smirk most likely plastered onto his face. "Obviously Murphy, I can do much more than that since I happened to get an Outstanding on my Potions O.W.L. last year, while you barely made an Exceeds Expectations. But that's none of my business."
"Alright Pucey, if your sole purpose of coming here was to belittle Brielle and I, I'm gravely sorry to tell you that we have better places to be", Lucy said. She rose from her chair and charmed the thick books to fly back to the shelves in their proper locations. "Let's get out of here."
Brielle seriously wanted to hex that triumphant smirk off of Adrian's face, but she refrained from doing so after Lucy gave her a warning look. Instead, she shook her head and followed her on our of the library.
"Don't forget about Blaise's essay", Brielle heard him call after them.
She rolled her eyes. "Bugger off", she muttered, even though he was well out of hearing range.
Even though she was exhausted after dinner and only wished to finish up her Potions assignment and get some rest, Brielle had no choice but to head to the infirmary to help out Blaise. Her original plan was to act as if her and Lucy's encounter with Adrian had never taken place, but Professor McGonagall had caught her before she could make it to the dungeons that evening. She thanked her for being so 'considerate' by 'generously using her leisure time to assist those in need.'
So while Lucy, Sergey, and the rest of their house were relaxing in their common room, Brielle was going to be forced to write Blaise's essay for him, even though she wouldn't consider him to be one of her friends.
When she entered the infirmary at half past nine, Madame Pomfrey nodded to her and gestured towards one of the beds near the window.
"Mr. Zabini is over there. He has a few shattered bones in both of his legs and hands, which is the reason he needs some help with his homework", she explained to Brielle.
She just nodded and ran one of her hands through her hair, adjusting the forest green bow she wore. "All right. Thanks for letting me know."
Blaise's hands and legs were encased in some type of casting material, presumably so that they would heal in the right position. An empty vial rested on the bedside table, along with his wand and backpack.
His sullen hazel eyes stared into her tired green ones for what felt like centuries. Even though he seemed bored of the shocking white walls he'd been staring at all day, Blaise's sharp jawline still managed to give him somewhat of a regal look. Finally, Brielle quickly broke their eye contact and conjured a chair for herself.
"Err... Good evening Zabini", she said, tracing the age lines on the polished wooden desk. "McGonagall send me up here to-"
"I know why you're here", Blaise said, cutting her off. It wasn't necessarily done in a rude manner, but she could tell that he wanted to get to business as soon as possible, which was fine by her.
"Okay then", she said. She reached into her backpack and pulled out one of the N.E.W.T. textbooks she's brought along.
"Firstly, what were you supposed to be writing about?", Brielle asked, reaching towards the corner of the desk to pick up his quill. It had a golden barrel with white accents, and his initials were carved near the top. Since there was no ink, she assumed it could write without it.
"The process of transfiguring a fig tree into a bezoar, in detail", he said, shifting a little. He was still in uniform, as that was mandatory for infirmary patients, although he didn't have to wear robes. "I already know what the answer is, but you can help me draft it a bit before we write."
Brielle nodded. Although she wasn't in the highest Transfiguration class, she did have a general idea on how the process took place. "I'm ready whenever you are", she said, gently pressing the tip of the quill against the parchment.
The next two hours consisted of the two Slytherins discussing the assignment, Brielle writing things down and crossing entire paragraphs out in her slightly slanted script, and a few disagreements on facts here and there. During one particular debate, Brielle had to cast a charm around them that created an invisible, soundproof dome around Blaise's bed and the desk so they wouldn't wake the other students.
When they had finished the final draft of the essay, it was nearly midnight. After Blaise gave it a once over, Brielle placed it into his backpack, which was now resting at the foot of his bed.
"Thanks", he said as she stood up and turned towards the door. "Are... you'll be all right walking to the dungeons on your own?"
Brielle didn't know whether to laugh and be touched by or snort at his customary Pureblood chivalry, so she did neither.
"What are you going to do if I say no? Hobble all the way down to the dungeons with me, holding your wand in your teeth if anyone tries to attack me?"
"Good point", he said, letting out a dry laugh. "But again, thank you for the help. I'd say see you tomorrow, but I'm not exactly sure on when I'll get out of here."
She nodded, but just as she was about to leave, he cleared his throat. Brielle turned around and gave Blaise a questioning glance.
"I like the bow in your hair", he simply said. He turned away and faced the wall without waiting for any kind of reply.
Brielle quickly left. Luckily, he looked away in time for him to miss the pink tinge to her cheeks as a result of his unexpected compliment.
A/N: There's Chapter 2. I should probably look into creating a cover image for this, but I've been busy lately. If anybody has any ideas feel free to PM me!
Thanks for reading,
~Bretzeln
