10
THE young werewolf could not recall a time when she had ever felt more awkward or out of place as she shrank back into the oversized leather armchair as far as she could.
Norah swallowed nervously and offered the Hogwarts Headmaster a sheepish smile, flinching as she ran her tongue along the top wall of her teeth and over her sharp incisors.
She felt a fiery heat creep to her cheeks as she realized Albus Dumbledore was scrutinizing her ill and feverish appearance over the rims of his silver half-moon spectacles, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling, as though he knew more of her current predicament than he would ever dare let on at all.
To say it made her feel nervous was an understatement. She licked her lips to moisten them, though no moisture came. Only dryness.
What if he knows? Norah felt her eyes widen in shock and what little color was left in her pallid face drain from her, and she nervously lifted a hand and absentmindedly tugged at the cuticles of her nails.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and forced her mind to become blank and tranquil, hopefully revealing no details of the nature of Greyback's plans to Albus, the skilled Occlumens that she was.
"Are you well, Miss Jameson? Is there perhaps anything I could get for you? Food? A beverage?"
"I—n—no, th—that isn't necessary, Headmaster Dumbledore, I am fine," she stammered, feeling her blush intensify and the warmth spread to her chest.
Norah swallowed past the lump and tried to speak again, thinking that her voice sounded hoarse, and suddenly found herself wishing she would have taken the Headmaster up on his offer for water.
She parted her lips open to speak, though before she could get so much as a word in edgewise, Albus merely waved his wand and conjured a goblet of ice water for her in a chalice.
"I…thank you, sir…"
"It is no trouble," he chuckled, studying the young blonde through the lenses of his glasses as Norah lifted the goblet to her lips and heavily drank. "Well, my dear..." Dumbledore let out a haggard sigh and pinched at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Whatever on Merlin's green earth are we to do with the likes of you?"
Norah blinked owlishly at the aging warlock, not having anticipated that would have been the question he'd ask.
"Wh...what?" she stammered. "What are you do to with me...?" she breathed, not quite sure she understood.
Dumbledore's bright blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon silver spectacles as he studied the young blonde witch.
"Yes, my dear, for you see, you present to me and the rest of the Order quite a dilemma, Miss Jameson. This place, Grimmauld Place, is now your home, for better or worse. Considering known Death Eater Augustus Rookwood has you in his sights, I cannot send you back from whence you came, so, therefore, the only other alternative option you have available to you if you do not wish to stay in The Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley, is to stay here, my dear Miss Jameson."
He watched as his former student closed her eyes and took a deep breath, setting the water goblet down on a nearby small wooden side table and collapsed further back against the armchair.
Her shoulders slumped forward in defeat.
"Why is it, Professor, that no matter what I do, even if it's simply getting lost in the middle of the night, I still manage to screw everything up?" Norah cried.
Nevertheless, confused by her words, Dumbledore merely folded his arms across his chest and crossed one leg over the other. No doubt, he deemed, this would take some time to sort out.
Dumbledore let out a tired sigh and pinched at the bridge of his slender nose with his thumb and forefinger.
"Please, Miss Jameson, you may begin whenever you feel that you are ready to begin recanting your version of the events that transpired tonight. While your new partner may have ungraciously forsaken his manners, please rest assured that I have not, my dear. Do not allow Mr. Brennan to intimidate you. He is brash and brazen, yes, but despite his outward ah, physical appearance, and blatant talent for bluntness, he is quite an honorable man. You have my word, dear."
Norah shuddered at the Headmaster's words as visions of her new partner's face flitted through her mind, as though she were seeing these flashing images through a Pensieve.
With his short, thick black hair that looked like it had a mind of its own, a strong jaw and a strong discerning brow, and that light, close-cropped rough beard that suited the man's angular features, Ollie Brennan looked almost like a godly being. Well. Almost.
The burn scar underneath his right eye marred his handsome visage, and Norah had been able to find no warmth in his crystalline blue eyes, which had stared at her only moments ago with such direct contempt and disgust that Norah was sure the bedroom they were in had instantly gone cold.
The man resembled a devil, a Dark wizard, for sure, and his following hostile behavior towards her not even five minutes ago more than confirmed this, in Norah's mind.
Brennan was a strange creature, flinging into a sudden rage and almost breaking her wrist by squeezing onto her wrist so tightly, with such a strength that was almost wolfish, that poor Norah had no time to respond and was the furthest thing she would imagine the man her age would do.
Given Norah's current physical condition and the state of her injured hand and the rest of her ailments, she'd just wanted the man to go away, not wanting anyone near her, especially not Jack Brennan's son.
Even when he'd snarled and snapped at her, Norah still held her ground, feeling courage and conviction from within, feeling grateful, at the very least, that almost an entire life spent under Fenrir Greyback's thumb had taught her how to be brave.
There had been a reason indeed she'd been sorted into Gryffindor when she'd gone to Hogwarts. She had her own self-worth to think of. Despite her new partner's snarling and growling, she'd not caved.
But then… Norah gulped, not wanting to linger on the way he'd looked at her.
There was that moment when he'd touched and caressed her cheek, had rested his surprisingly warm, if not rough and calloused hand against her skin with a startling subtlety, and such tenderness she had not believed him capable of.
Norah let out a shaking breath and opened her eyes. What the bloody hell had that all been about?
He'd looked almost bewildered. Like he hadn't known what to do the moment he had, and the confusion in his blue eyes showed.
As to why that might be, Jameson had no idea, but she knew enough to know that it made her feel uncomfortable. Vulnerable.
Thankfully, he'd stepped away from her and let her sit in this chair afterward.
Maybe he had recognized her discomfort. Either way, that was the moment she'd truly become frightened, perhaps for the first time in her life. The truth was, Jameson always believed herself to be resilient and strong. As a werewolf, she couldn't afford not to be. She'd never felt scared of any man before, not after growing up with Fenrir.
It wasn't as if she'd lacked experience, after all. Plenty of the Dark Lord's followers would come up to her following a meeting, or when Master would force her to pour them all goblets of the fresh-made elvish wine during meetings, and one of them would try to come up and feel under her skirts.
She'd always managed to ward off such unwanted advances, even defend herself with her wand on more than one occasion. But…but…but… there was something dangerous lurking deep within Brennan, and it had nothing to do that she knew bloody well who he was. Jack Brennan's son.
Jack had been a highly-respected and high-ranking lieutenant of Lord Voldemort's. She'd heard tales of the bastard son of Jack's, how his temper was rumored to be monstrous and wicked. Well. She'd certainly see that firsthand for herself and had no desire to see it again if she could help it. Her new partner was unhinged and unpredictable.
Like father, like son. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it? Norah thought bitterly to herself, though she dared not give this thought a voice. He took after Jack with his temper. One moment his voice was quite soft, almost kind, then the next he was sneering at her, looking almost disgusted just to lay eyes upon her.
Perhaps Brennan knew what she was and despised her kind. It would certainly explain the way he'd looked at her with such abhorrent loathing, but…but… And then he had touched her with such a surprising tenderness, almost like a lover would. Her eyes widened as she processed this. It was frankly all too much for Norah to process, but one thing was clear.
Brennan was not what she'd expected. He had been staring at her in such anger, and she had been sure the man would jinx her right there in the doorway of the bathroom of this room.
She did not know why he hadn't, or why he'd helped her to her chair the moment she'd collapsed, but Norah supposed she should be grateful the man had at least a small amount of mercy within his black, putrid heart.
Perhaps Jack Brennan's son had taken pity on her, or realized with Dumbledore in the room alongside them, whatever he really wanted to do to her was too risky, not that it would have really, truly mattered.
Norah was sure Brennan could get away with almost anything, considering what little she knew of him, the type of family Brennan had grown up into.
But the way he'd looked at her before he'd stormed out of the room in a rage. The torment and pain and guilt-ridden on his pale face, the likes of which she'd never seen before in the son of a Death Eater, no less. It was, shockingly, the very last thing Norah expected to see in those eerily haunting eyes of his.
What could the son of Jack Brennan, who grew up amongst such wealth, everything handed to him on a platter, surrounded by everything that he could ever possibly want for himself, ever know of struggle or misery or prejudice and hatred the way that Norah and the rest of her kind, other lycanthropes like her, were subjected to? Nothing, that's what!
It didn't make any sense to her at all.
Norah would not dare let herself think it, but she could swear Brennan almost looked…ashamed. Perhaps it was of his familial history, coming from a long line where the men all served under either Grindelwald or Lord Voldemort's command, she didn't know.
The young blonde werewolf could see why the man kept people at arm's length and at a distance.
He did not want people to see that side of him. The ugly side. Ollie Brennan was weak, immature, and incredibly volatile, and the fact that Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to appoint the man as her partner within the Order while she had been unconscious, with no say in the matter, did not sit well with her at all and caused resentment to bubble within Norah's chest.
Norah blinked when Dumbledore gave a light little cough to clear his throat as he peered over at the young blonde witch over his nose, a rather intrigued expression on his withered, lined face.
"Do not mind Mr. Brennan at the present moment, Miss Jameson. For now, you are our main concern, my dear. However, if it will put your mind at ease, I shall ask you a question, and you, when you are ready, will answer it. Is this agreeable?"
Norah furrowed her brows, glancing down at her hands, which were resting on top of her thighs and shaking.
She let out a tired sigh and rubbed at her temples with her thumb and forefinger as she rested her head against the headrest of her chair.
"If that's how my new partner treats people most times, especially witches, I don't blame people for thinking he's a monster, Dumbledore," she snarled meanly, remembering the lustful way he had looked at her, and it sent a shiver down her back.
"I do apologize for the way Oliver reacted," Dumbledore profusely apologize, looking pained. "I can assure you, my dear lady, that what you witnessed just now is not Mr. Brennan's normal temperament. He has…been under a great deal of stress lately due to, ah, some personal issues, dear. You need not fear your new partner, Miss Jameson, for Mr. Brennan is quite kind. The man is very timid and rather shy, I am afraid, believe it or not. He has not had much interaction throughout his life, save for his friendship with Miss Tonks and Mr. Lupin, who I hope you will meet and grow to like, in due time. Remus Lupin is like you, dear. Another werewolf. Perhaps you would like to meet him over dinner," he added, noting the glimmer of intrigue that was dawning in Norah's blue eyes.
Norah mutely nodded, thinking that another werewolf in the Order could come beneficial.
"Sir," she questioned, unable to keep the note of hope from seeping its way unbidden to the surface of her tone. "I—I hate to do this to you, sir, but I—I must ask…is there anyone here who can—"
But Professor Dumbledore merely chuckled and held up a withered hand to stop the young woman from speaking, cutting her off mid-flow.
"Fear not, Norah. Severus Snape is an Order member alongside Miss Tonks and Mr. Lupin and Brennan, and now, you, if you should wish to have the vacant seat in our organization and has graciously agreed to faithfully brew the Wolfsbane Potion for Mr. Lupin every month. I am sure it will be no trouble to my Potions Master to make extra."
Norah blinked back her surprise, quickly nodding her agreement and she dipped her head so that the Headmaster would not see the tears welling in the corners of her eyes, stinging, and blurring her vision, which was still yellowed at the edges, yet another side effect of her post-transformations.
Professor Dumbledore was not at all fooled, however, by the gesture, and merely shot Norah a kind smile, his piercing icy blue eyes twinkling.
"Back to the matter of discussion at hand: your new partner. We were discussing Mr. Brennan. As I said before, he's had minimal interaction throughout his life. Oliver has…"
Albus's voice trailed off momentarily as he looked past Norah and seemingly at a spot on the floral peeling wallpaper behind the young blonde witch's head.
Norah frowned, able to tell for herself that the founder of the Order of the Phoenix looked troubled.
"He has not had it easy here, I will say that much," Dumbledore resumed speaking, his words slow and cautious, as if he wanted to mind his choice of words when speaking about a colleague.
He was not at all sure how much of Ollie's past as it pertained to his abusive relationship with his father, Death Eater Jack Brennan, he could divulge.
In the end, he decided against it, thinking it was not his business to share, and it would be up to Brennan to decide to disclose the truth to his new partner in time, provided the two moved past this initial rift and hopefully made amends with one another, though he suspected the girl was going to have to be the one to make the first move toward it.
Dumbledore frowned at that thought, thinking Oliver was the one who needed to apologize first. Nevertheless, sensing the witch's growing curiosity, he turned his head to the side once to cough before clearing his throat and continuing to speak.
"Mr. Brennan has had a very trying life, much more difficult than most young men his age, I'm afraid. He prefers the solitude of his own home to that of human company and social interaction. Since the man has joined the Order, I've attempted now on several occasions to entice the man to open up to me, but Mr. Brennan stubbornly maintains his distance. However, were you to ask my opinion…"
Here, he shot Norah a piercing look.
Norah silently bristled, thinking she had not, as it happened, asked for the ancient warlock's opinion of the man, and yet, she knew Albus would freely offer it up regardless and let out a barely audible sigh.
Dumbledore sensed it but ignored it and continued speaking as though she had not made quite clear her disdain for his overall opinion of what he believed Ollie Brennan wanted of Norah.
"I think that…it would be good for your new partner if he were to make another friend, someone besides Miss Tonks and Mr. Lupin to connect with. Someone to encourage him, coax him out of his shell, perhaps. And I believe that someone is you."
Norah resisted the urge to roll her eyes, finding it increasingly difficult. Who on earth could possibly be friends with such a boorish brute?!
"I don't want to get to know Brennan, Dumbledore!" protested Norah hotly, raking her fingernails down the fabric of the sides of the armrest of her char in a sense of distress. "He—the way he talked to me just now, I don't know if you overheard any of that, the man is a monster! In every literal sense of the word! Death Eater Jack Brennan's son is a beast!" she shouted, momentarily forgetting her place, though the second the poisonous words of hatred spewed out of her mouth, she regretted it.
For one, Dumbledore's frown deepened, and Norah quickly realized a fraction of a second too late that she had perhaps let too much slip out, and for two, visions of the man's haunted, yet pained expression flitted through her mind, that look of regret his blue eyes had been brimming with before he'd turned on the heel of his boot and stormed out in a rage, slamming the door behind him, not bothering to look back at Norah even just once.
Dumbledore paused, lacing his fingers together, and turned his head slightly to regard Norah in a heavy, uncomfortable silence as her words hung in the air between them.
Ashamed of her behavior and her statement towards the man, she hung her head and wiped away a single tear that escaped her right eyelid with a well-practiced flick of her finger.
Tears, unfortunately, were no stranger to Norah Jameson at this stage in the werewolf's life.
"Come now, Miss Jameson, I implore you to see reason, my dear," came Professor Dumbledore's kind, quiet, and reserved voice that flowed through the dank and dimly lit room like a soft wind. "You must give Mr. Brennan a chance. If you are going to become an Order member, which, I confess, I would very much like you to be, you've got incredible talent, and I would be remiss if I did not advise you that this is your best course of action with Augustus Rookwood seemingly after you, if what they told me of tonight's events while on night duty are true. As his partner, you will encounter Oliver Brennan on a regular basis, my dear, there is no way around that. As long as you remain a guest within these walls, I will do whatever I can to ensure your safety and overall happiness, but I need you to give something back in return, and all I ask, is for you to try, dear."
Regret washed over Norah as she processed his words, like the long slow waves on a shallow beach. Each wave was icy cold and sent shivers down her spine at the horrible way she had treated him. How she longed to go back and take a different approach, but now, thanks to her and her temper, that was utterly impossible. There was no way back.
There was no way she could even begin to make it right with Brennan. The remorse would eat at her every day of her life. She envied those pebbles on that beach, hard and lifeless, unable to feel the torments of a hard life, especially Norah's hard life. Norah swallowed past the lump in her throat, increasingly difficult, as it felt like she couldn't breathe.
"I—I know I made things worse by reacting. I—I didn't mean to, I just…" Her voice cracked and broke, leaving the werewolf speechless.
How could she have yelled and provoked the man like that?
It wasn't like her at all. Under normal circumstances, she would have blamed the post-full-moon cycle for her irate temper and volatile behavior, but for what she'd done, there was no excuse that would be good enough or justify this.
If what Dumbledore was saying of Brennan was true, Norah should have immediately apologized for the moment the words fled from her lips and begged him to stay, that they could talk this out. She had no reason to doubt Brennan's integrity, from what little she knew of him thus far. Then, if that were the case, then, just as she was, this man was alone and could use someone to talk to. A friend, as Albus said, to ease the loneliness.
But…Merlin Himself be damned, the way she had reacted, and more importantly, the way he had looked at her, hurt too much. The hurt and regret laced in those brilliant crystalline blue eyes of the man's.
It physically ached and tugged at her heartstrings. Norah swallowed, asking the one question that she wasn't sure she wanted an answer to, but she was going to ask it anyway. Her curiosity had been piqued, and there was no going back at all.
"What happened to him? Why is that man so miserable?" she asked hoarsely, wildly gesticulating with one of her hands to the skin underneath her right eye, indicating she was asking of the burn mark that marred and twisted his pale, pristine skin.
At her question, Dumbledore's eyes clouded over, and his expression fell slightly, crestfallen.
"That, my dear, is a question you will have to ask the man directly if you wish to know more," he answered in a curt tone, not wanting to divulge information that was not his business to dole out. "Mr. Brennan could use the social interaction and it would benefit him greatly if he were to make another friend amongst the Order besides Miss Tonks and Mr. Lupin, my dear." He smiled at her with hopeful eyes, hoping she would take the hint.
"NO! I don't want anything more to do with him, Headmaster!" Norah screamed vehemently, passionately, her pretty features etching into a twisted grimace as the shadow of the wolf darted across her face.
She shirked back into her chair, thinking of the horrible way the two of them had almost come to physical blows with one another. Norah squeezed her eyes tightly shut as her nostrils flared in agitation, and she forced herself to take several deep breaths in and out, wiling her temper to quell to continue speaking to the old man in a calm, rational way. Norah let out a tired sigh.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir, forgive me, but I don't think this is a good idea. I—I can't do what you ask of me. I—I can't work alongside him. Get someone else! Anybody else!" Norah begged, close to tears.
But she knew the moment the plea left her lips, and by the way that Albus Dumbledore shook his head no, that there was no changing her former Headmaster's mind once it was made up, and even more to the point besides, Greyback would learn of her refusal to do what he was asking and punish her for it.
Either way no matter what way you sliced it, she was going to have to do this, and there was no way out. Norah blinked back the beginnings of briny tears and swallowed the lump in her throat.
"He's a kind man, Miss Jameson. Oliver will not hurt you," Professor Dumbledore emphasized, reaching forward in his chair and across to take hold of Norah's hand, which was shaking badly, clasping his withered hand over the top of Norah's. "He's been alone in this world for far too long, my dear. Just as you have, I suspect," he added, studying her over the rim of his half-moon spectacles with an inquisitive gaze Norah did not know what to make of, not liking the look at all.
Professor Dumbledore breathed out a deep breath and continued.
"In spite of…more recent events over the last few months, I do believe that by me appointing you as the man's partner, you could do Mr. Brennan a great service by giving him a second chance, despite your initial first impressions of one another, and trying to befriend Mr. Brennan. His work amongst the Order is quite solitary and lonely, enough to keep him busy. In fact, I would say that my decision tonight to appoint you as the man's partner is perhaps the greatest hope I could give for the man to break out of his depressive slump he appears to find himself in these days…."
Norah drew in a sharp breath and held it. She furrowed her brows into a frown and rested her head in her hands, her head leaning back against the headrest of her armchair as she allowed herself a moment to think.
If what Dumbledore says is true, then he really must be lonely here, she mused.
Suddenly, she was stricken with an immense wave of guilt towards how she'd reacted to the man. Brennan had only been trying to help her earlier in the bathroom after all and acting the way that she had done to him was utterly monstrous.
Though when she'd dared to lay eyes on the man's face, at the burn mark under his right eye, what she saw most definitely frightened Norah.
However, it hadn't been the mark or the scars that littered their way down the man's neck and, if she had to hazard a guess, extended throughout his body, that scared her necessarily. He was otherwise, save for the burn mark on his face, a handsome enough bloke, she supposed, with strong, chiseled features.
But what had struck terror into her heart was the expression on that man's face.
Shame. Regret. Self-hatred. Heartbreak. All these things and more did she see in Brennan's deep piercing blue eyes. The emotions she saw in her new partner mirrored how Norah felt about herself so poignantly that it drove a figurative Cruciatus Curse through the core of her heart, and for a moment, the young werewolf was even sure it stopped beating.
He reflected on who she was inside. She was ugly. She was grotesque. She was a monster. A beast.
Yes, the mere sight of the man sent a chill through her but said chill really had nothing to do whatsoever with Brennan, save for the lustful gleam and look of intrigue in the man's blue eyes.
It was a matter of how his outward appearance reflected all the things she despised about her lycanthropy.
Greyback had made a career practically out of making his adopted daughter feel worthless like she was nothing more than a pebble stuck at the bottom of his black leather boot. Hating aspects of herself came to Norah quite naturally.
But now, Norah had gone and done the same thing to someone else and knowing this did not sit well with the young blonde witch and wolf at all. Acting in such a way, boorish though he was, he'd only been trying to help, was callous.
Monstrous, even. In other words, she knew Dumbledore was right.
Greyback would ensure she followed through with his stupid plan of revenge. Norah knew she was going to have to face Brennan again, regardless of whether she wanted to or not, which she most certainly did not, not after her horrendous display as she'd allowed the wolf within her to take control and her temper surged.
Norah let out a groan and wearily looked towards Dumbledore, desperately seeking the wise old warlock's counsel and advice for how to proceed in amending the mess she'd gotten herself into.
"Professor Dumbledore, please, I beg of you, sir, please," she begged, well aware of the desperation in her voice. Norah squeezed her eyes tightly shut, letting out a deep, shaking breath. "Is there really no other way? What should I do, sir?"
The man was looking suddenly exasperated. His wrinkled face seemed like it had a strange habit of twitching sporadically as Dumbledore heaved a long, deep sigh.
If the atmosphere before with Brennan had been tense, this was nothing by way of comparison. Norah felt she could try to cut the air with a knife, and she would make nary a scratch.
"Make amends with the man, my dear. Wherever it was that you came from, you are no longer, now that you are an Order member," Dumbledore stated in a firm, unyielding tone. Norah got the distinct impression that his patience had finally run out with her. "What happened? Why were you arguing with Rookwood? The question remains, as to why you are here."
"My…" Norah's voice trailed off as it cracked and broke, unsure how much of her life she could reveal to Dumbledore that he didn't already know for himself. "My…. ah, father, well, he kicked me out of my…home," she finished lamely, letting out a defeated sigh as she twiddled with her thumbs.
If Professor Dumbledore was skeptical of her answer, he hid it well, leaning forward in his seat.
"And Rookwood?" he pressed Norah gently.
Norah swallowed, as visions of the Death Eater's face flitted in front of her mind. "He…he tried to…o—on the streets, I—I was lost, and…someone…Mr. Lupin, I think, saved me."
Dumbledore's response, however, was not what Norah had expected. Instead of looking irritable or angry with her, his expression turned into one of mild surprise.
After a moment, Norah could swear she saw a hint of humor in the man's blue eyes, but it was so terribly subtle, she couldn't know for sure.
"I see," Albus responded quietly, his gaze still lingering on her, though he did not press her further for an explanation. She was grateful for it.
It seemed an eternity before Dumbledore spoke again, and when he did find his voice, his quiet, reserved tone sounded rather impatient.
"I suggest, Miss Jameson," he began slowly and cautiously, speaking carefully so as to not upset the young blonde werewolf further, "that you attempt to make amends with your new partner tonight. There is a dinner downstairs in the kitchens if you should like to join the others. It will be good for you to meet the rest of the Order members, my dear."
Norah felt a fiery surge of anger intermingled with fear prick at her heartstrings at the very suggestion and the idea of encountering him again.
"I don't want anything further to do with him, Albus!" she protested wildly. "I'm not going down there!" Norah shouted, raising her voice an octave.
"My dear woman!" Dumbledore stood abruptly from his chair, his grey robes billowing around him. His blue eyes were flashing dangerously, darkening, almost cerulean in color the more upset he became over Norah's attitude towards him tonight. There was a strange fire that danced behind the older wizard's steeling pale blue orbs.
Startled and suddenly terrified of the Hogwarts Headmaster and Order founder standing in front of her, Norah stumbled backward in her haste to put as much distance between herself and Dumbledore as was physically possible, shrinking back into her armchair as far as she possibly could, almost succeeding in overturning the chair in the process.
If Augustus Rookwood and Brennan who had unnerved her both in the span of a single evening was terrifying, this was a hundred times worse, yes. Norah had been pinned against a streetlamp, broken her ankle, damaged her wand hand, threatened, interrogated, and now, Norah could add being shouted at to the top of her list for tonight.
What was it about tonight that hated her so much? Why had Greyback sent her here? Why was he so hellbent on getting revenge for Bryce's death? Surely, what happened was an accident.
Confused wasn't even half of what the werewolf was feeling right now, and again, Norah felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
"Miss Jameson?" Albus's voice was quiet and soft again, sounding remorseful of his actions.
Norah felt the familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder that caused her entire body to seize up and stiffen and she promptly jerked her shoulder away. She just wanted to be left the hell alone now.
"Miss Jameson, please. Forgive me. I do apologize. I should not have lost my temper with you, my dear. That was rude and inconsiderate of me," Dumbledore spoke in a solemn, grave tone.
Norah blinked owlishly at his words, feeling her head whiplash sharply upwards to regard the Hogwarts Headmaster. She wanted to tell the old man that yes, he had been rude and inconsiderate towards her just now.
She was not in the mood to be yelled at simply because she did not understand her surroundings, or why Greyback was making her do this, though she couldn't very well tell him that. She did not understand any of this at all. None of it. She did not deserve to be scolded because she did not think she could face her new partner again.
What was happening to her wasn't her Merlin-damned fault!
She had enough problems in her life without this.
"Just go away!" she screamed, attempting to shout it at Albus, raking her fingernails in an animalistic way down the side rests of the chair, ripping at the fabric's material angrily.
However, due to the fact that her throat burned and hollowed and constricted, it sounded hoarse and raspy and did not come off quite as intimidating as Norah hoped. In fact, it sounded downright pitiful, which only made things worse.
"Leave me alone!" she cried, tears welling in her eyes as she ducked her head in hot shame and embarrassment, not wanting Albus to see her like this as she currently was at present, an utter mess.
For a long moment, nothing but the deafening sound of silence filled the desolate, dank bedroom.
And then, there came the unmistakable sound of Dumbledore's swiftly retreating footsteps and the gentle closing of the bedroom door behind him. He had honored her request.
Norah was now well and truly alone.
Eep. Poor Norah is having a really tough night! Coming up in Ch. 11, Tonks and Lupin deliver the bad news of Ollie's dad's passing to the man, but how will the former Slytherin and Legillimens take the news, and is there anything that his new partner, Jameson can do, to make amends to the man for how she reacted? Stay tuned for more!