Went into a Verizon shop looking for a simple phone for making calls and texting, walked out with a free iphone 4. Everyone wants that new iphone so apparently to get rid of the old ones they're just giving that away.
"So the Dark Lord was an egomaniac. We already knew that." Neville stated after Bree had reported everything she had seen the day before.
"But Dumbledore made it seem that his trophy collecting is of particular importance." Bree replied.
"Maybe he has collected something dangerous." Luna suggested airily.
"You mean like some kind of dark artifact?" Ben asked.
"Well that would fit his M.O." Bree answered.
"So if it is a dark artifact why can't Dumbledore just come out and say what it is?" Neville questioned. Bree stared at him.
"Because he's Dumbledore, of course." she said.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team's opening match against Slytherin was looming and Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the promising Gryffindor team Harry had been training so carefully since September was one Chaser short.
He asked Dean to replace her.
Malfoy didn't show up for the game and a replacement was sent onto the field to play instead. That was surprising, and not true. Bree found him in the Room of Requirement. The room looked like it was filled with the inventory of several junk shops.
"And what do we have here?" Bree asked from right behind Draco as she deactivated her perception filter. Draco, who had been doing something to a dusty cabinet, whirled around.
"Don't do that!" he shouted. He actually did look a bit sick. A part of Bree's mind decided it was stress induced and started going over the negative health effects the strain could put on Draco. She brushed it off quickly.
"But it's so much fun!" she exclaimed. "You should have seen the look on your face!"
"Why are you here?" Draco growled.
"You're not the match, and you're obviously not sick, so why skip out?" Bree inquired. "It's not like you to pass up a chance to show up Harry... Not that you ever could."
"I'm busy."
"With what?"
"You know what!"
Bree smirked. "Is that anything like you know who?" she asked. Draco glared.
"Alright, alright, I get it." Bree said defensively. "Just because you're plotting to kill someone doesn't mean you can't have fun every once and awhile."
"I need to use every possible moment to work." Draco replied. "That hex you put on me isn't helping."
Bree blinked in confusion. "What hex?" she asked.
"Like you don't know!" Draco yelled. "I have to wrestle with the doors to get them open, the showers are always ice cold, and the trick steps on the stairs keep changing!"
"Oh." Bree responded. "That's not me, the castle just hates you."
"The castle hates me." Draco repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief.
Bree nodded. "You hurt one of her students, nearly killed her. You're lucky that minor inconveniences is all your all getting." She explained.
Draco stared at her. "The castle is a building and isn't capable of feeling any kind of emotion." He said as if he were speaking to particularly slow child.
Bree shrugged. "Whatever helps you sleep and night, but really, this would a lot easier on you if you were a competent assassin. A guy wearing a bear suit while wielding an axe could do better than you. A guy wearing a bear suit while wielding an axe has done better than you." She stated.
"What?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Swiss preacher, Jorg Jenatsch, look it up." Bree said.
Draco stared for a long moment. "You're bizarre." He finally said.
"And you're uptight. You should let loose and have fun." Bree stated.
"I'm trying to kill someone, that's not something you can have fun with." Draco replied dryly.
"Sure you can!" Bree exclaimed. "You have to be creative. Just think of it as a game."
"Most people value human life more than you do." Draco said.
"You need to get rid of that. You're a Death Eater. You're not supposed to care about human life. You're not supposed to hesitate. You're supposed to do what you're told with no regret."
"How can you think it's that simple? I've never killed anything before in my life! Maybe a lunatic like you can find it easy, but I… I…" Draco trailed off. Bree stared.
"It depends on what you mean by easy. If know what you're doing of mechanics of it are really quite simple. Just inflict the right amount of damage to a vital area or administer a poison correctly and you're good. Humans are very vulnerable, if you think about it." Bree said quietly.
"But if you're talking about the emotional toll of talking the life of another human being… I picked the poison that killed Umbridge. I am guilty of conspiracy to commit murder, but I wasn't there. I found out later that she had died. I didn't give her the poison. I didn't watch her die. I was very detached from the whole thing." Bree hesitated for a moment before continuing.
"The only advice I can give you is to use an impersonal method, something that works but doesn't make you watch. Don't think about it, maybe use some kind of coping mechanism, and remember, it's only a game."
Line line line
Gryffindor had won the match against Slytherin. The party was missing something, namely the twins who would always liven things up. Bree had never been to a Gryffindor party were Fred and George weren't present. She had also never been to a party where Ron had tried to eat Lavender Brown, face first, but that's what was happening in a corner of the room where everyone could see him.
"Fred and George are going to love mocking him." Bree commented to herself.
The party was going smoothly, until Ron and Lavender left to find someplace more private. Ron came back bloody and covered in scratches. Hermione had attacked him with a flock of small birds.
"Any reason you attacked Ron, or were you just feeling spiteful?" Bree asked after she had found Hermione in their shared dorm.
"He was only snogging Lavender because he heard that I had snogged Krum." Hermione complained.
"Uh-huh." Bree said.
"He was flaunting it in front of everyone just to make me jealous!" Hermione exclaimed.
"And that justifies assaulting him with conjured birds?" Bree asked incredulously. "Wait, don't answer that. Obviously they influx of hormones has addled your brain… Ah hormones, effects may include mood swings, poor, irrational, and generally impulsive decision making, rebelling against authority,"
"This doesn't remind you of anyone?" Hermione interrupted.
"And murder." Bree finished, ignoring Hermione.
"Murder?" Hermione questioned incredulously.
"Because they find their parents too restrictive, because they want money, because they feel like it, or because they're jealous. Sure, background has a lot to do with it, but there are cases where there is no rational explanation." Bree smirked. "If something happens to Lavender you'll be the first one I suspect."
"I would never kill anyone!" Hermione protested.
Bree shrugged. "If you say so." She said.
Snow was swirling against the icy windows once more; Christmas was approaching fast. Hagrid had already singlehandedly delivered the usual twelve Christmas trees to the Great Hall; garlands of holly and tinsel had been twisted around the banisters of the stairs; everlasting candles glowed from inside the helmets of suits of armor and great bunches of mistletoe had been hung at intervals along the corridors. Large groups of girls tended to converge underneath the mistletoe bunches every time Harry went past, which caused blockages in the corridors.
They all wanted Harry to ask them to accompany him to a Christmas party that Slughorn had planned around Harry's and Bree's (mostly Harry's) so that they would actually show up to one of his parties. Bree had been avoiding them by saying she had lessons with Ben.
"There's a hole in the world like a Great Black pit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit and it goes by the name of London. At the hole sit a privileged few, making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty into filth and greed!"
"Can't you sing something else?" Neville asked tiredly. Bree thought for a moment. She grinned.
"Seems an awful waste... Such a nice, plump frame what's 'is name has... Had... Has. Nor can it be traced... Bus'ness needs a lift, Debts to be erased...Think of it as thrift, As a gift, if you get my drift. Seems an awful waste... I mean, with the price of meat what it is, when you get it, if you get it... Ah!" Bree sang.
"Good, you got it! Take, for instance, Mrs. Mooney and her pie shop! Bus'ness never better using only pussycats and toast! Now a pussy's good for maybe six or seven at the most! And I'm sure they can't compare as far as taste! Mrs. Lovett, what a charming notion. Well, it does seem a waste...Eminently practical and yet appropriate as always!"
"Is this a song about cannibalism?" Neville interrupted.
"Yes." Bree replied.
"Why can't you sing carols like a normal person?" Neville inquired.
"Can you imagine me being normal?" Bree asked.
"No." Neville replied.
"Besides, Christmas Carols can be equally creepy." Bree stated.
"What do you mean?"
Bree grinned, Neville knew that that was never a good sign.
"He sees you when you're sleeping." She said darkly. "He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake."
"… I see you're point." Neville replied.
519. Not allowed to sing songs from Sweeny Todd in the hall.
"Hey Bree." Someone called. Bree turned around and found Harry coming down the hall.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well Slughorn's Christmas party is coming up and I was wondering if… maybe, er, I mean, are you going with anyone?" he asked.
"No." Bree replied. "George is busy because of all of the Christmas shoppers."
"Oh, uh, so I was thinking, maybe you could go with me, as friends I mean. I already asked Luna, as friend, but she's going with Neville." Harry said quickly.
"For future reference, if you're going to ask someone out, don't let them know you asked someone else first." Bree replied dryly. Harry went red.
"But yeah, I'll go with you." Bree stated.
Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables.
"Harry, m'boy!" boomed Slughorn, almost as soon as Harry and Bree had squeezed in through the door. "Come in, come in, so many people I'd like you to meet! And Miss Smith!"
"Have you heard any new echoes lately?" he asked lowly as he grabbed Harry by the wrist and led him into the part.
"The stars are going out." Bree replied. Slughorn didn't have time to respond because he had already found the first person he wanted to introduce Harry to.
"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires-and, of course, his friend Sanguini."
Worple, who was a small, stout, bespectacled man, grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically; the vampire Sanguini, who was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes, merely nodded. He looked rather bored. A gaggle of girls was standing close to him, looking curious and excited.
Sanguini, how appropriate for a vampire. Probably derived from sanguis, the latin word for blood that also served as a root word of the noun exsanguination: Definition- the process of losing blood. Bree didn't like the way the vampire was eyeing the nearby girls.
"Try anything and I'll cut off your head." Bree hissed. She was close enough that Sanguini was the only one who heard her. He looked surprised.
"Then I'll salt and burn the pieces." Bree added.
"It's a bit odd for a witch to be a hunter." Sanguini stated softly.
"Magi." Bree corrected.
"You're rather young, and inexperienced. Do you really think you could kill me?" the vampire whispered.
Bree activated a very low level ward, just enough for Sanguini to feel uncomfortable.
"Home field advantage. Restrain yourself or die." She replied smirking.
The conversation could not continue any further because Harry had just ended his exchange with Worple and was pulling Bree toward Hermione.
"Hermione! Hermione!"
"Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Bree!"
"What's happened to you?" asked Harry, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil's Snare.
"Oh, I've just escaped-I mean, I've just left Cormac," she said. "Under the mistletoe," she added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her.
"Serves you right for coming with him," he told her severely.
"I thought he'd annoy Ron most," said Hermione dispassionately. "I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole -"
"You considered Smith?" said Harry, revolted.
"Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him, McLaggen makes Grawp look a gentleman. Let's go this way, we'll be able to see him coming, he's so tall..."
The three of them made their way over to the other side of the room, scooping up goblets of mead on the way, realizing too late that Professor Trelawney was standing there alone.
"Hello," Bree said politely to Professor Trelawney.
"Good evening, my dear," said Professor Trelawney, focusing upon Bree with some difficulty. She smelled of cooking sherry again. "I haven't seen you in my classes lately..."
"I stopped taking divination." Bree replied.
Trelawney frowned.
"Yes, I suppose someone with your natural abilities would not require instruction." She said. "Though your insight would be beneficial to the other students."
"I highly doubt that." Bree replied. "Most of the students think I'm making thing up."
"My ancestor, Cassandra was cursed in the same way." Trelawney stated mournfully. "She saw the future but was never believed."
At that moment Hermione slipped away and McLaggen appeared.
"Seen Hermione?" he asked Harry.
"No, sorry," said Harry, and he turned quickly to join in Bree's conversation, forgetting for a split second to whom she was talking.
"Harry Potter!" said Professor Trelawney in deep, vibrant tones, noticing him for the first time.
"Oh, hello," said Harry unenthusiastically.
"My dear boy!" she said in a very carrying whisper. "The rumors! The stories! The Chosen One! Of course, I have known for a very long time... the omens were never good, Harry... but why have you not returned to Divination? For you, of all people, the subject is of the utmost importance!"
"Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!" said a loud voice, and Slughorn appeared at Professor Trelawney's other side, his face very red, his velvet hat a little askew, a glass of mead in one hand and an enormous mince pie in the other. "But I don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions!" said Slughorn, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. "Instinctive, you know-like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill-why even Severus -"
And to Harry's horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.
"Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!" hiccuped Slughorn happily. "I was just talking about Harry's exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!"
Trapped, with Slughorn's arm around his shoulders, Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry, his black eyes narrowed.
"Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all."
"Well, then, it's natural ability!" shouted Slughorn. "You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death-never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus -"
"Really?" said Snape quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry, who felt a certain disquiet. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to start investigating the source of his newfound brilliance at Potions.
"Remind me what other subjects you're taking, Harry?" asked Slughorn .
"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology..."
"All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror ," said Snape with the faintest sneer.
"Yeah, well, that's what I'd like to do," said Harry defiantly.
"And a great one you'll make too!" boomed Slughorn.
"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," came the unexpected voice of Luna who had just appeared from the crowd alongside Neville. Everybody looked at her. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're planning to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."
Neville let out a long suffering sigh.
Harry inhaled half his mead up his nose as he started to laugh. Emerging, from his goblet, coughing, sopping wet but still grinning, he saw something calculated to raise his spirits even higher: Draco Malfoy... being dragged by the ear toward them by Argus Filch.
"Professor Slughorn," wheezed Filch, his jowls aquiver and the maniacal light of mischief-detection in his bulging eyes, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"
Malfoy pulled himself free of Filch's grip, looking furious.
"All right, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily. "I was trying to gatecrash, happy?"
"No, I'm not!" said Filch, a statement at complete odds with the glee on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the Headmaster say that night-time prowling is out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"
"That's all right, Argus, that's all right," said Slughorn, waving a hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."
Filich's expression of outraged disappointment was perfectly predictable. Draco looked almost equally unhappy. He had probably been trying to get to the room of requirement. Snape was looking at his godson as though both angry and a little afraid. A split second later, Malfoy had composed his face into a smile and was thanking Slughorn for his generosity, and Snape's face was smoothly inscrutable again.
"It's nothing, nothing," said Slughorn, waving away Malfoy's thanks. "I did know your grandfather, after all..."
"He always spoke very highly of you, sir," said Malfoy quickly. "Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known..."
"I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Snape suddenly.
"Now, Severus," said Slughorn, hiccuping again, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard-"
"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," said Snape curtly. "Follow me, Draco."
They left, Snape leading the way, Malfoy looking resentful. Harry stood there for a moment, irresolute, then said, "I'll be back in a bit, Bree-er-bathroom."
"Okay then." Bree replied as Harry left.
"We never got a chance to discuss what you said earlier." Slughorn mentioned. "The stars are going out. What does it mean?"
Trelawney perked up. "A prophecy?" she questioned. Bree sighed.
"The meaning is obvious. The stars are going out." Bree stated. She was ignored as Slughorn and Trelawney discussed the deeper meaning behind the words. Bree really wanted to leave the party. There was no use being around people who just didn't get it.
Most students look forward to leaving Hogwarts and returning home for Christmas. Most students are not Bree Louise Smith. This year Bree had to go to a wedding for a cousin she barely knew. As she sat in the church waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle, Bree muttered things like "Only known each other for six months" and "Who gets married around Christmas" which resulted in serveral jabs to the ribs from her mother.
Finally the red-haired bride was walking down the aisle. She had made it about half-way down the aisle when a golden energy surrounded her and she disappeared. It was at that point that something finally clicked with Bree. The bride's name was Donna Noble. Donna Noble. Donna Noble. DONNA NOBLE.
Well it looked like it wasn't going to be such a boring wedding after all.
I know this is shorter than other chapters, but I wanted to be able to put something up.
