Bridget got up the next morning thinking about the events that happened the night before. I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, she thought to herself as she walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was hard for her to believe that God was actually speaking to her. She had heard the stories in the bible of course, but they always seemed to be more fiction to her than reality. Why would God randomly speak to someone, and what did they do to deserve God talking to them? She sighed and walked down the empty hallway on her way to breakfast. Normally, breakfast was not on the schedule for Bridget, but she spent a good part of the night before trying to figure out if she was crazy. She still did not reach a conclusion.
"Of course you're not crazy Bridget," A picture of an old man said as she walked by.
The blonde headed girl stopped and turned around. Not again! I thought that I was just imagining things. I guess I really am crazy. Well, I'll look on the bright side, at least I might be able to skip out on classes on the count of my mental instability, she thought to herself. In her imagination, things like this would happen all the time, but this is reality. Things like this couldn't happen in reality, could they?
"You," Bridget said, "Would you mind telling me why in all the things you have to do, you have to bug me?"
The old man sighed, "Bridget, I need you to help me out. You know after going through all those boring Confirmation classes, you'd think that you'd be eager to help me."
"Yeah, well. I didn't know that God would directly be paying me visits," Bridget grumbled and tried to bite her nail.She always bit her nails when she was nervous or scared. She had tried on numerous occasions to stop. Her grandparents even went as far to put awful tasting things on her nails, but the habit had yet to be broken. Bridget always assumed that this was her rebellious and stubborn nature. "Don't do that. You're going to ruin your nails."
Bridget looked down at her nails then back up at the picture as she glared and said, "I didn't know that God cared about personal hygiene."
"Normally I don't, but for you, I'll make a special exception. Don't you have a teacher's assistant job to be applying for?" God looked at her smugly. Bridget glared yet again. She was going to be late for breakfast. She wasn't even sure if it was still going on, and this was just wasting time. The girl was hungry and she always got irritable when she was hungry.
"But I want some breakfast," Bridget whined.
"Breakfast can wait, there's still an hour and a half until it's over. Trust me, you'll be able to make it. Now, I believe the Transfiguration room is that way," God said and pointed in the opposite direction.
"Yeah, sure. I'm going." Bridget said as she walked towards the Transfiguration room. It made her sad to know that Professor McGonagall was not going to be teaching any more. She was always Bridget's favourite teacher and naturally, Bridget did quite well in the class. Last year, Professor McGonagall was talking about starting a school theatre. Apparently, Professor McGonagall was the sponsor years before, but interest had since died down. I wonder if Professor McGonagall would still consider it with everything that's happened. I hope so, Bridget thought to herself, it'd be nice to show that I'm actually good at something around here. Every one of Bridget's friends had something that they were good at. Neville was good at Herbology, Harry was good at Defence against the Dark Arts and Quidditch when it didn't come to school, Hermione was good at everything. Bridget was fairly ordinary except when it came to theatre. She always seemed to light up and show a side of herself that few people actually got to see. Perhaps it was because she was portraying someone else's life rather than her own.
"Hello?" Bridget said uncertainly when she finally reached the classroom, "Is anyone here?"
"Yes," Professor Lupin smiled from his desk, "What can I help you with?"
"Well," Bridget started, unsure how to ask the question, "I heard that you were offering a job as a teacher's assistant and I was wondering if I could apply."
Professor Lupin blinked, "I didn't think that anyone knew."
"Well you know how it is in a school of teenagers. Even the CIA couldn't keep a secret in here."
The teacher chuckled, "I suppose you're right. Why did you want to apply?"
"I am on a mission from God?" Bridget suggested. She wasn't very good at interviews and was hoping the truthfulness would show through. Apparently, it didn't work. She studied the man that was sitting at the desk. He looked fairly young as far as teachers were concerned, but his eyes told a different story. His eyes seemed as if they were those of an old man, one that had seen more than he should have. They were friendly and Bridget found them welcoming, still she could tell that there was a story behind them, one that she wasn't sure if she was ready to hear.
The teacher seemed confused at Bridget's feeble attempt to tell the truth but make it seem like a joke."I see."
"Sorry, that was a joke I use it in all my job interviews. It usually doesn't work.""Ah, well, uh, what did you say you name was?" Professor Lupin studied the girl. She looked oddly familiar. He knew that she wasn't there the first time he taught at Hogwarts. He could have sworn he knew her from somewhere, but he couldn't quite figure out where.
"I didn't. It's Bridget, Bridget Granger.""Well, Miss Granger. Do you have a sister?" Perhaps that's why he thought she looked familiar. If she had sisters, which he was fairly certain of, he would have at least have known them from a previous class.
Bridget nodded, "Two of them. Amelia and Hermione."
Professor Lupin smiled, "Ah yes I remember them both. I am proud to say I taught both of them. Though Amelia never really paid attention in my class. She was always busy passing notes to Oliver Wood." It made sense now, she looked familiar because she had siblings that attended Hogwarts, still, he couldn't help but feel as though he knew her from somewhere else. It was those damn eyes. There was something about them that seemed familiar to him. While he had planned to announce at dinner that night about the teacher's assistant position tonight at dinner, something was telling him that he should just use Bridget. Maybe as he got to know her, he would figure out why she looked so familiar.
"Yeah, that's her husband. I'm expecting it to end any day now. They just don't fit."
"Why not?"
"They just don't," Bridget said impatiently. She was getting a little annoyed that he kept asking her questions about her personal life. She never opened up to anyone, especially strangers. The only thing that knew everything about her was her diary. The diary was the window into her soul. And apparently God, she thought irritably, then remembered why she had come here in the first place., "Is there a form I need to fill out or something?"
"I think that I found my teacher's assistant. You start Monday.""Cool. Thanks." Wow, she thought to herself, God was right. I will be able to make it for breakfast. Of course God's right, she thought with a cringe, He's God.
"My pleasure Miss Granger, I just want you to know that I'll be expecting you to be here Monday through Friday at 7 AM. On weekends . . ."
"Weekends?" Bridget interrupted. This wasn't part of the deal. All God told her was that she needed to apply for the teacher's assistant job. No one ever said anything about weekends.
Professor Lupin studied her, "Yes, weekends, as my teacher's assistant, you're to help me gather my lesson for the next week."
"Oh. Alright." Bridget sighed as she walked out the door and headed out the door. Thanks a lot God, she thought with contempt, now I have to spend my weekends helping a teacher gather a stupid lesson plan. She turned down another hallway that led to the Great Hall.
"Hello Bridget," a cheery voice came from behind her. She turned to see a fifth year Hufflepuff boy looking at her.
"What do you want?" she growled. This was not the way her seventh year was supposed to turn out. It was supposed to be about finishing her classes and getting the Hell out of there. Bridget had bigger plans. She wanted to audition for Julliard and she needed to start working now. They weren't going to accept just anyone. They accepted only the best of the best and Bridget knew that while she was fairly good, she wasn't nearly good enough to be accepted to Julliard.
"Come on Bridget," the boy encouraged as he jogged to catch up with her, "This is a good opportunity for you. Remus Lupin's been through a lot in his lifetime. More than what most people have to go through."
"What does that have to do with me?" Bridget whined as she turned into the Great Hall. "Why do I have to give up my weekends and free time to help some teacher with his lesson plans and grade the papers that he's too lazy to grade himself.
"It has to do with you more than you realise Bridget," God said, "Now, you'll have to hurry if you want to catch breakfast. They're going to keep the Great Hall opened an extra thirty minutes." He turned and walked in the opposite direction. Bridget stood, wondering what God meant when He said that she had a lot to do with Professor Lupin's hard life. She tried to shrug it off, but the words lingered as she walked into the Great Hall and took a seat. The blonde poured herself some cereal and began to look around the Great Hall. People watching was one of her favourite past times. She loved watching people and their expressions and reactions to their surroundings. There wasn't much to watch in terms of people. Many of the students had already left to get ready for their first class of the year. Bridget searched for signs of life and saw the blonde boy, Draco Malfoy that she had seen the previous night. He didn't look as bad as everyone made him out to be. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He looked sad and alone. Bridget could tell that he was in desperate need of a friend. The girl pushed the thoughts from her head and looked down at her watch. Crap, she thought to herself as she gathered herself, transfiguration class is in fifteen minutes and I'd hate to be late for the class that I'm the teacher's assistant for. She got up and headed for the door.