Author's Note: Hello, readers. First, I must apologise for taking so long to update. My muse has been in a coma because of an overdose of classes and finals. Due to this setback, I have been working all on my own creativity, which means 0 updates. Ladies and gentlemen, that has now changed! Expect more timely updates over the next month or so, until school looms close once again...
In this chapter, please forgive any mistakes in my French...all phrases come from my limited high school French vocab and my grandmother's French invectives. The Gaelic words I filched from internet vocab lists...
On to the story!
Previously…
i"Pierre will not permit his vampires to betray us," Brethany hastily inserted. "Not all the vampires within the colony have pledged themselves to him, though. In December, all the residents will be bound by blood to leave the visiting students and adults alone. However, Pierre cannot afford to do that twice in such a short time period."
She surveyed their sour expressions. "Look, I truly believe that we are in no danger there. I just wanted to make sure you both understood what we're going into. Vampires are very self-serving; unless it is truly to their long-term benefit, none of them will be attacking us in any way."
"Your words are so reassuring," Snape sneered. Brethany rolled her eyes.
"If we are kidnapped or killed, you can say 'I told you so' as much as you like, Severus. Until then: please, just shut up." Ignoring the other teacher for the moment, Brethany continued laying out the plans for the weekend./i
And Now…Back at the Ranch…
"Why are we taking a portkey, again?" Brethany griped to Dumbledore, glancing from the ping-pong paddle in his hand to Severus, who was likewise looking with distaste at the item. "Couldn't we simply apparate to just before the colony's wards? It's not so far."
"I would rather be certain that you survive the trip," the Headmaster spoke with surprising dryness. "If you do not land safely, the portkey will instantly bring you back here. Also, the portkey can be activated from within the colony's wards; if there is a need, you can return here at any time."
The DADA teacher nodded in instant understanding. "Paranoid bunch, aren't we? Ah, well, you know what they say about people like us." Severus raised an eyebrow. "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get me," Brethany clarified. "Muggle saying; very true. My father lives by it, and so passed it on to his children. Some might say paranoia is a genetic trait in our family." She grinned. "Mum would say it's a lifestyle."
"We have no interest in your family's lifestyle," Snape drawled contemptuously. "I would suggest we leave now. Night is approaching swiftly."
"Night approaches swiftly on wings of darkness; Dawn heralds her coming with crimson and purple song. So heed the cry of quickening shadows: beware the darkness of a wounded Night. Scorned, betrayed by the Sun's bright rays, she thrusts spears of shadow to that sphere's light heart. Mourn Apollo's death in the dearth of light; his eclipse comes quickly with approaching Night," Brethany quoted whimsically, then smiled at the curious looks. "Morgana's iWar of Darkness/i, one of the few wizarding works I cared to memorize as a child. It's so delightfully macabre." Snape rolled his eyes, then froze as he realized the action.
"And now that we have had our little lesson in literature," he said sarcastically, "perhaps we could be on our way?" Brethany grinned, but stretched out her hand to touch the portkey.
"We'll contact you as soon as possible," she told the headmaster. "Expect to see us Sunday evening at nine o' clock."
Moments later, the two teachers were whirling down into existence just outside the vampire colony. Brethany looked around in interest; it had been some years since she had visited such a place. "Looks just as gothic as it ever did," she remarked nonchalantly, watching as dim shadows detached from the darkness. "We might as well make ourselves known. The guards are already moving in." Severus cast her a curious look, but she only grinned, then pulled out the ceremonial dagger to cut her palm and drip her blood onto the ground before them.
"By blood I call ye," Brethany quoted softly, eyeing the shadows surrounding them, "By blood ye ken. My blood hast bound me; so I enter in." Small red sparks of magic jumped from each drop of blood, then flared together into a small Celtic knot and died away.
"iGormlaith/i, you are welcome here," a shadow coalesced into a distinct figure. Brethany bent her head in acknowledgement.
"Severus," she quietly directed. Her colleague repeated the short ritual, and was likewise greeted with,
"iDubhgall/i, you are welcome here." The surrounding shadows became solid, and a half dozen figures stepped into existence. Brethany smirked slightly as one vampire stepped forward.
"Braidhen, you look well," she greeted him gravely. The vampire, tall, blond, and formidable, gave a shallow bow in acknowledgement.
"As do you, child," Braidhen took her outstretched hand in his own and kissed it. "Lovelier every day, Brethany," he grinned charmingly, then sobered. "You and your companion are welcome here, by order of Master de Sordante; as such you fall under his protection for as long as you comport yourselves as worthy guests. The gift of your blood to the wards permits you entrance here until your visit is complete; after, however, you will be strangers here once more. Bear in mind your status, as well as your mortality, in the presence of the strength of vampires and their Chosen." Severus bristled at the vampire's warning, but Brethany's warning grip halted any speech.
"We will endeavor to do so, Braidhen, Enforcer of the Northern Colony. We thank you and your master for permitting us within your wards," Brethany spoke the required niceties in a respectful voice, keeping her face and eyes expressionless. Braidhen bowed slightly, then led the way towards the colony.
The colony was a self-contained town, filled with shops and pubs, manors and cottages, theaters and brothels, a single inn and the Master's mansion in the center of town. Streets were well lit in the night by balls of light hovering high in the air every ten meters; Brethany murmured to Severus that the balls of magic would become dark lamps during the day, casting shadows over the street for the safety of any vampire wandering the streets during daylight hours. Snape surreptitiously watched the population move about in what he saw as a lifeless parody of a normal town, his black eyes noting the casual use of wandless magic of the residents, as well as the watchful stances of the bystanders as he and his companion passed.
"They are a remarkably friendly bunch, aren't they," he murmured sarcastically. Brethany gave him a brittle smile.
"Hm. With highly sensitive hearing, as well," she answered pleasantly, not even trying to lower her voice. Severus understood the not-so-subtle hint, and remained silent for the rest of the walk.
When they entered the Master's mansion, smaller orbs than those employed outdoors lit the hallways, hovering in the corners toward the high ceilings. Brethany seemed to become more and more relaxed as they drew nearer to their destination, and Severus took his cue from her demeanor. For herself, the DADA teacher truly was becoming more comfortable the longer they remained within the colony without being attacked. Although she had received promises of safety from both the Master and Braidhen, his second-in-command, the possibility of some isolationist or anti-mortal vampire endeavoring to rid the world of one more unprotected food source was quite high. Now that they had reached the Master's residence, however, the chances of that actually happening were drastically lowered, a fact for which she was quite relieved; Severus would have killed her if he'd been proven correct about their safety.
"Please wait here," Braidhen beckoned them into a sitting room, then slipped out. DADA teacher and Potions Master exchanged glances, then looked about the room.
"We are in Ireland?" Severus questioned his colleague, gesturing to the Celtic runes evident throughout the room. Brethany grinned.
"I'm sure you noticed Braidhen's titles for us? 'iGormlaith/i and 'iDubhgall/i'? It's Gaelic," the young woman chuckled. "iGormlaith/i means 'excellent lady' and iDubhgall/i means 'dark stranger'." Brethany laughed at the disdainful look on his face. "They certainly got it in one, didn't they? As for where we are…well, from what I've been given to understand, we're somewhere just south of Ballymoney, County Antrim, in North Ireland. We're about two hundred, two hundred-fifty miles b(about 350 km)/b from Hogwarts."1
"If the colony is in Ireland," the 'dark stranger' asked suspiciously, "Why is the Master a French vampire?"
Brethany rolled her eyes slightly. "Because, even though I don't especially like the man, he is extremely powerful in Magical Creature circles. He is well known as being extremely knowledgeable about arcane rituals, which makes him extremely valuable to the pureblood, tradition-entrenched, wizarding faction. Outside of those reasons, he was chosen as the Master of this colony because he is magically powerful, almost ridiculously so, and highly capable of providing protection to the vampires who swear loyalty to him."
"Ah, you flatter me, im'amie/i," a tall, dark-haired man practically floated through the door. Brethany turned to face him with a look of disgusted amusement. "Oh, do not look at me so,i jeune femme/i."2
Brethany raised an eyebrow. "Only my mother refers to me in such a manner, Pierre. Perhaps you remember her? iPetite dame/i who slapped your lily-white skin eleven years ago in this same colony?" Beside her, Snape cast her a shocked stare, then quickly schooled his face to bored interest. "Of course, you did proposition her in the presence of her husband and children." A small grin played about the DADA teacher's mouth. "My father thought the incident to be quite amusing. He still tells the story among his auror friends. My mother is quite respected among them now."3
The dark vampire laughed lightly. "Ah, but she was a ipetite joli/i," he sighed. "And such fire!" His dark eyes practically glowed with amusement. "I can see she passed it on to her daughter, as well," Pierre de Sordante chuckled, his eyes raking up and down Brethany's body.4
"Hm. Most likely," she agreed simply. "I believe I am just as capable of slapping your face as she was." Woman and vampire stared each other in the face, neither batting an eye. "Of course, I also know that you are completely capable of killing me before I can get close enough to strike you," Brethany added conversationally, "And that you neglected to kill my mother merely because she was a small, beautiful woman who had managed to catch your interest. If my father had made a move to intervene, he would have been quickly dispatched."
"Your father was a wise man," Pierre spoke just as conversationally, "And thus, he did not interfere. I trust that you inherited his wisdom as well as your mother's beauty?"
"I hope so," she answered simply. They stared at one another for a long moment, then Brethany inclined her head slightly. "I thank you for accepting our presence here, Master de Sordante. I bring you gifts with which to show our gratitude." She brought a shrunken bag from her pocket and cast the charm to enlarge it. "One vial of Albus Dumbledore's blood, in order to renew the pledge of peace he made with the former Master of the Northern Clan," it was taken with some reverence, "One vial of crystallized phoenix tears, to be used as you desire, so long as the Ministry does not track it back to us," this was taken with the care used when handling a ticking bomb.
"And my own gift," Brethany grinned slightly, pulling forth a long, slender wooden box, cradling it in both her palms. The vampire Master took it with a raised eyebrow, then slowly opened it. His head jerked up as he stared at her in surprise. "Yes, a wand," the young woman confirmed. "I crafted it myself. The handle is formed of ash, and the shaft of rowan; the core is a crushed dragon scale; the reservoir stone is a rounded piece of sky-blue turquoise. A lovely wand, if I do say so myself; the white woods and blue stone look perfect together. And, oh, dear, I've forgotten to add the usual tracking charms the Ministry requires on wands meant for Magical Creatures." She grinned unrepentantly. "Well, I daren't tamper with the wand now; it might upset the balance."
De Sordante raised a dark eyebrow. "It is good work," he complimented, blue eyes examining the wand with interest. "Why ash and rowan, precisely? It is a rare combination, is it not, especially for a wand intended for a member of the undead?"
Brethany grinned, eager to share her knowledge of wand-lore. "Rowan is the wood of life, strongly connected to the earth and subsequently the lay lines; it is strongly linked to the organization of nature. Ash is the wood of beginnings and change, strongly connected to the element of water and subsequently springs and rivers; it is also strongly linked with both the balance and natural chaos of water. Normally, the two would never mix very well, but they were quite compatible in this wand, if only because I used a turquoise stone for a reservoir. The turquoise is itself a natural bridge for the two woods, reputed to aid in astral travel, although I've yet to experience that myself, and is a stone of knowledge and intuition, as well as handy for spells involving water or air. From pommel to point, you have a bridge to ease travel of all kinds, then a wellspring of chaos, and finally a strong resting place of peace, a pattern which follows your way of thinking rather well. You may have noticed the Latin figures I carved along the shaft…"
"Ordo ab chao," the vampire read aloud, amusement apparent on his face. "Fitting."
"Quite," Brethany grinned. "Anyway, the wand was designed to precipitate ease and power in rituals and the use of lay lines in pentagrams and ritual circles; the dragon scale as part of the core enhances that aspect quite powerfully. Also, the duality of the chaos and order of the wand works well with the duality of the Vampiric existence: dead, yet perpetually living." De Sordante cast her an appreciative glance. "I am aware that you have a wand already, but I believe you will find this one to be rather more fitting, if only because it was custom made for your current existence."
"My 'current existence'?" the Master raised an eyebrow at her. The wandmaker grinned.
"I've seen your current wand; it's ancient. Likely very powerful, but still ancient. You have changed since that wand chose you; your magic has changed since that wand chose you. And don't pretend you're not horribly pleased with the gift; you know you like it." The vampire Master chuckled in answer, caressing the length of the wand with a fingertip. Blue eyes rose to meet Brethany's.
"It is a good gift, masterfully created, and masterfully presented." He shut the wand box and slid it into his robe. Brethany poked at Snape, and the Potions Master stepped forward.
"My gift to you is a potion, one dose designed to make a single vampire impervious to the rays of the sun for a single day." He extended the tiny crystal bottle to the Master, its swirling colors of red and orange reminiscent of fire, or possibly a phoenix. An eyebrow was once again raised, and blue eyes gleamed in pleasure as the old vampire accepted the bottle.
"A good gift, indeed," Braidhen murmured from behind Brethany. She could not help but agree. The potion was an extraordinarily difficult one, and leaned rather towards the illegal considering it required fresh unicorn's blood, as well as the ash of a reborn phoenix, both of which were notoriously powerful and rare ingredients. Many vampires, especially the old ones, would commit wholesale slaughter to be able to see the sun once more.
Pierre bowed to the visitors. "I am pleased with your gifts; you are both welcome here and will be treated with utmost care and kindness." The two teachers returned the bow. "I wish you a pleasant visit; I will speak with you at length tomorrow evening." His eyes suddenly flared red. "However, should you or your companion make it necessary for me to see your faces before that designated time, you will quickly learn to regret it im' amie/i." With that simple, yet highly effective warning, he swept from the room.
Brethany breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. "Well, that went well. He was surprisingly mellow tonight." She cast a questioning glance to the Enforcer. "Braidhen, was it just me, or was Pierre acting…giddy?" Severus' eyebrows went up in disbelief, but the blond beside him only chuckled.
"His mate recently returned to him," the Celtic vampire explained simply. Brethany laughed in understanding.
"Ah…so he's getting some." She spoke blithely. They both ignored Snape's growing frustration with ease. "I really should have guessed." The two exchanged amused smiles.
Word Count: 2618
1 Assuming that Hogwarts is, as spoken in movie version PoA, not far from Dufftown in the Moray council area of Scotland
2 French. iM' amie/i: my (female)friend. iJeune femme/i: lit., young lady.
3 iPetite dame/i: the little woman
4 iPetite joli/i: pretty girl