-1Disclaimer: I do not own in any way, shape, or form any of the Harry Potter characters or the Universe. I am not making a profit from this fic. This fic is intended for entertainment purposes only!

Irish Eyes

Chapter Four: Spoon-Fed Memories

Bridgette hit the floor of the common room with a loud thud, and Harry, Ron and Hermione rushed to the side of their new friend.

"Bridgette, can you hear me?" Hermione patted her cheek, in an effort to wake her. When that didn't help, she performed the Ennervate Charm. Nothing. Bridgette lay limp on the floor.

Inside her mind horrible things were going on. She heard an evil cackle, a laugh that could only belong to a Death Eater. A man in a grotesque skull mask stood over her, breathing heavily. He kicked her in the side with the toe of his boot, and swore loudly.

"What shall we do with her, my Lord?" He asked. The voice sounded familiar.

"Take her far away from here. I've no use for her now." The Dark Lord waved him off. "Take all of her identification and burn it. I want her erased from memory."

Bridgette watched as her body was dragged off. It was covered in bruises and scrapes and cuts. She was mortified to see that the man beneath the mask was none other than her own father, Lothian Shannon. What in Merlin's name was going on here? She wondered. She watched as her father stripped her body bare, and threw her clothes into a burn barrel on their property. He poured petrol over the garments and lit a fire with his wand. No. Bridgette thought wildly. No, this cannot have happened. My father, a Death Eater? Where was her mother, Erinne, when all this was happening? And then she saw another Death Eater dragging out the limp body of her mother, and she woke, sweating profusely and shaking hard.

"Why?" She whispered. "Why?"

"Bridgette, what happened? Are you all right?" Bridgette's head was in Hermione's lap, and Hermione was wiping her face with a damp towel.

"The one who did this to me… was my father." She could barely speak. She felt the bile rise up in her throat, but she didn't vomit. "He got my mother, he killed her." She sat up slowly. "It's not right!" She yelled, "It isn't fair." She began to cry, and as she began to cry, she felt the pain of every bruise, every scrape, and every cut once more. Only this time, she felt it in her heart. "They beat me, tortured me, and killed my mother."

By that time, McGonagall entered the portrait hole to see what was happening. She bent down and helped Bridgette to stand. "We must tell Dumbledore about this incident."

Bridgette wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her robe. "Of course." She drew from the strength of the professor. It would make her feel much better.

With Bridgette gone with Professor McGonagall, the three sat down and discussed the unusual circumstances that had befallen her. Harry was the quietest. He understood how she felt about Voldemort, but to have your own father betray you in such a way was unthinkable.

"… and in the Muggle world, if something so traumatic happens to you, it is entirely possible for you to become amnesiac." Hermione was explaining.

"Guys," Harry said gravely. "Does something seem odd to you?"

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Like, the fact that her father was a Death Eater came to her as a total surprise when the memories flooded back. Wouldn't that be well known information in her family? I mean, think how Death Eaters usually behave."

"What is going on here?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"I think Voldemort is playing mind games again."