Dude, I'm so tired right now I can barely keep my head up. I'm pretty much going to be the walking dead until finals are over, next Tuesday, so I'm not going to be updating much in this next week. BUT! Then I'm off for the summer soooooo I'll be posting frequently. Anyway, this chapter is going to be short and probably pretty lame. My sincerest apologies.
Just a general note to my readers: if you don't like the story, don't read it. It's called free will. Remember the saying 'if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all'? Yeah.
"'If you cannot do better with 'love' than 'dove' I shall have to award the prize to Sir Thomas.'
'Shove?' he suggested.
Anne laughed. 'What? My sweetest queen, my only love, I long to give you a hearty shove?'"
The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory
"What do you have to tell me, daughter?" A cold voice rang out through the nearly empty stone chamber. A young woman walked forward confidently, head held high. She approached the large desk and took a seat in front of it, smirking.
"She is dead, sir. As is her husband."
"I am aware. A source tells me the others are in hiding now, which is problematic. What headway have you made with child?"
The girl paused, choosing her words delicately. "That has proven to be more of an issue," she said slowly. Spotting the look on her father's face, she quickly added, "She has very strong allies. I'm working on breaking the circle around her before I execute my final plan."
The man leaned forward in his high-backed chair to reveal an incredibly handsome man with cold, pitiless eyes. "And what does this 'final plan' entail, my dear? You know as well as I how popular she is." The endearment sounded harsh and mocking from his lips. The girl winced.
"As you instructed, father. Lure the werewolf into a trap and ensure she follows. Then kill her."
The man nodded. "Indeed. You may go."
The young woman stood quickly and gave a little bow, then walked smartly from the room, her heels clicking loudly on the stone floors.
Well, thought the wizard contemptuously, watching his daughter exit, this should be interesting.
Brigit and Remus walked slowly back to the castle after their intimate moment by the shrieking shack. Hand in hand, they strolled onto the grounds and through the massive oak doors. Remus couldn't stop grinning and Brigit thought the heat of her face would never disintegrate.
"Do you want to go back to the common room?" Remus asked, rubbing his hands together to warm them.
Brigit twisted a strand of hair around her finger, watching a group of curious second years walk by, giggling. "Wherever we won't have an audience." Remus nodded, understanding.
Making their way back to Gryffindor Tower, Brigit had a wave of uneasiness flow over her. Was she doing the right thing, telling Remus the entire story? Dumbledore had trusted him with it, and probably would have continued telling him if they hadn't been interrupted…
But if he knows, he's never going to be able to escape it, she thought to herself miserably. I would never choose this war over freedom. Why would he want to do the same? Remus, spotting the look on her face, stopped just outside the Fat Lady.
"What?" He asked curiously. Her face had clouded over and he suddenly felt on edge. "Bri?"
She couldn't help but give a little smile at the nickname. "I have to run an errand first, I've just remembered. Meet me in the common room, 'kay?" Without waiting for his answer, she trotted in the opposite direction.
Remus stared at her retreating figure, a puzzled expression crossing his face.
"Have you got the items I asked for, Borgin?" The young woman tapped her hand impatiently on the counter.
"Ah, yes, good miss. I just received them today, I did." He pulled out several parcels wrapped in brown paper. "That'll be one hundred eighty-three galleons and twelve sickles, miss," The shady man's eyes gleamed as he spoke the outrageous price.
She frowned in irritation. "A little steep, Borgin. I assume you want me to actually buy the things I ordered." Her eyes flashed dangerously.
The old shopkeeper may be many things, but stupid his was not. He knew exactly how powerful this young lady's family was and, at the moment, was in good graces with them. He had no plans on changing that fact and rushed to correct his error.
"Of course, young miss, my mistake," he straightened himself up and gave a creepy, gap-toothed smile. "I must have read the sum wrong. Eighty-three galleons and twelve sickles is what is printed her. My mistake."
She smiled cruelly, pulling out a heavy looking pouch and dropping it on the counter with a loud clunk. "That should cover it," she said. "Goodbye, Borgin," she gathered up her various odd shaped items and strode from the grimy shop.
"'A little steep, Borgin'" The old man mocked shrilly, weighing the money sack in his gnarled hand. He sighed. He was out one hundred galleons because some brat needed some forbidden objects. A tinkling sound from the shop door sounded and Borgin twisted his face into a smile upon seeing who was walking into his store.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy! Good evening sir."
Securing her bag tighter to her shoulder, Brigit strode towards Dumbledore's office. Reaching the entrance, she stared at it numbly. She didn't know the password.
"Lollipops," she said. Nothing happened.
"Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans?" Nothing.
"Sugar Quill! Bathilda Bagshot! Nicholas Flamel! The Beatles?!" She cried, frustrated.
"Try jelly slugs," a soft voice called from behind her. The statue sprung to life and began turning. Glancing over her shoulder warily, Brigit saw a Slytherin boy standing there with desperately greasy hair and a pallid complexion.
"Severus," she said in greeting. Though Gryffindor's hated Slyterhin's on principle, something about Severus Snape made her wonder why he was put into Slytherin. Lily had told her about her friendship with Snape and their falling out back in fifth year and aside from usual classes she had never had any real contact with him.
"Why are you trying to get into the headmasters office anyway?" He asked her curiously, walking a little closer. She looked behind her and saw the stairs beginning to turn back around as the doorway closed.
"Not really your business, is it?" She asked him coldly. His eyes turned hard.
"No, I guess it isn't," he glared as she hopped into the doorway just as it was drawing shut.
Making her way to Dumbledore's office door, she realized it was Saturday and the headmaster would probably be in Hogsmeade for last minute Christmas shopping. Frowning at her stupidity, she decided to try anyways. Knocking on the door quietly, she was surprised to hear a soft "Yes?" come from within. She opened the door and peered in.
"Ah, Miss Major!" Dumbledore greeted her cheerfully. "Please, do come in." Brigit came in and shut the door softly behind her and took a seat in front of his desk.
"Hello, Professor," she said. His blue eyes twinkled at her from behind his half moon glasses.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked her chivalrously with a smile. Brigit suddenly didn't know where to start.
"I…I wanted to ask you a question, sir." She hesitated.
"Dare I assume a Mr. Lupin is the topic of this conversation?" Dumbledore asked while smiling at Brigit's reddening face.
"Yes, sir, it does. And about what you told him around Halloween. About the siren wars?"
"Then I suggest we continue this conversation at a later time, Miss Major." Dumbledore interjected quickly. "Forgive me, but it would be unwise to carry on at the moment. When we meet again, I shall explain. For now, if you would?" He had stood and Brigit stood as well, confused. He gestured to his office door and she walked out, him close behind her. Shutting the door tightly behind him, they continued down the marble stairs and stopped just before they reached the corridor.
"Professor—" Brigit began, now thoroughly baffled.
"We have a traitor among us, Brigit," Dumbledore said quietly. "I will alert you when we may speak. Until then tell no one why you came to me and tell no one anything more until I tell you differently. Remus will understand. Your life is at stake, Brigit," he said gravely. Brigit gazed at him, afraid.
"Do I have to go into hiding?" She felt a tightening in her chest at the thought of leaving.
Dumbledore hesitated. "Perhaps. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Until then…" he trailed off. Brigit nodded.
"Yes, sir."
I know this one was probably confusing and all over the place. It will all make sense soon, but bear with me until then please!
Reviews? Please? C'mon, you don't have thirty seconds to post a little note? You know you wannnnntttt tooooooooo!! ;) Hope you enjoyed!