𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

37: 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔡

James's voice is soft, as though Brigitte is a stray he doesn't want to spook.

In the background, if Brigitte looks closely, she can see Chudley Cannons posters hung crookedly. James's face is mere inches away from the mirror, glasses abandoned. But the indent they leave on the sides of his nose are still visible. James is squinting, trying to absorb to scene before him.

"You're hurt," he says, looking thoroughly upset. She's cradling her hand protectively to her chest as Sirius hovers around awkwardly, trying to coax her into letting him examine the damage. "Let Sirius help you."

"James," Brigitte feels something warm in the pit of her stomach. Her mind feels calmer now. James is here. Everything is okay. 

Very slowly, she allows Sirius to take hold of her arm and guide it away from her protection.

"So, marriage?" James asks, and his face unconsciously frowns at the thought. His eyebrows knit together as a lifeless chuckle escaped his lips. "Way to take the plunge."

"It's not funny," she says crossly. Sirius is prodding at her hand, his touch methodical and firm. He tries not to look at it for too long. It is swollen and turning a nasty shade of purple. She winces as he hits a particularly tender spot. "I don't want to get married. Least of all to him."

"Sirius, gentle," James warns, watching her very carefully. He looks more pained than even Brigitte. "Be careful with her."

"I'm right here, Potter," she replies tersely, "don't talk about me as if I'm not there. And it's not fair. I don't want him to be my stupid husband."

"Oi," Sirius mutters, but his voice lacks it's usual bite. He's frowning, eyes squinted with focus. "How did this happen?"

Brigitte opens her mouth to respond, then closes it quickly. "I fell on the stairs. Hit it on a step."

"Is it bad?" James asks, his voice tight with anxiety. "Merlin's beard... you need to be more careful."

"Cut the shit, James," Sirius snaps. He looks irritated, as though this whole ordeal is causing him a large and highly inconvenient headache. "We all know this didn't happen because of some fall."

Brigitte pulls back as though prodded with a poker. "Mind your own business."

"It's pretty difficult to mind my own business when I get fucking betrothed to you overnight, then forced to attend this stuck up ball, and then dragged into the loo like a madman," Sirius snaps, his voice no longer patient. "So out with it. It's my business, now, too."

"Sirius-" James is spluttering in indignation- "be nice-"

"Get away from me," Brigitte spits. "Get out."

"Both of you!" James's voice is louder now, angry and urgent. "Get a fucking grip. You can have your little cat fight and be petty, or you can figure out what is happening. And Sirius, for merlin's sake. She's hurt. Help her."

Through the mirror, James sounds as though he is about to clutch his heart and keel over from the stress. He's aggressively running his fingers through his hair, looking as though he's about to start yanking tufts from his scalp. 

"I don't need your help," Brigitte replies, her voice sounding strangled. "Go away."

Brigitte lets out a sigh, her eyes suspiciously unblinking. Sirius can see that they are brimming with tears. If he were any less angry, he would feel guilty.

"Cry then," he says coldly. He doesn't know why he's being mean. All he knows is that he is angry. "Like a little girl. Go on."

"Sirius!" James barks, suddenly very authoritative. "Do not talk to her like th-"