White Heather for Protection

Quiet Moments

Despite the peace and normalness of the past weeks, Heather was tense as she carried out her daily activities. Her teaching duties were going smoothly, as were her potion studies. Yet, she just couldn't help but feel that something was going to happen, and soon.

It was like the calm before the storm.

The news that Severus had shared with her about Hadrian had certainly not helped her state of mind. With the knowledge she now held, she was stuck in the spot. Should she tell Rian about what she'd learnt? Or would it be better to keep it from him until she and Severus had found a solution to the problem?

Her brother had enough to worry about without adding this to the list. She could only imagine how horrified he would feel to find out something like that. She had been utterly appalled herself, and it wasn't even her that was involved.

No, she didn't think Hadrian really needed to know yet. Not until the solution was found. And it would be found. The alternative was unacceptable. Between Severus and her, they would definitely be able to unearth something that Dumbledore hadn't. In fact, she doubted the old man had bothered trying. As long as he got the result he wanted, he would sacrifice anything. With him, the ends justified the means. It was why Dumbledore had tried to coerce them both into returning to the Dursleys, despite knowing about the abuse. It was why he had ordered Severus to kill him, despite his protests and reluctance. And it was why he was going to send Hadrian to his death.

Heather hated Dumbledore. The man professed to care for them, indeed, for all his students, and yet it seemed everything he did put them in danger. He pasted on that twinkle in his eyes, that benevolent smile, and everyone thought he was just a kindly old grandfather. It sickened, her, really.

Before this year, she hadn't really detested him this much, but now, with what he was doing to Severus and Hadrian, all she wanted to do was just wring his neck. She would gladly kill the man in Severus' stead, so angry she was.

She wanted to storm up to him in his office, give him a piece of her mind. Let him know exactly what she was thinking with regards to his manipulations and scheming. People were not pawns for him to move around, all for his own version of the Greater Good.

As much as she hated to admit, however, she knew that things needed to go according to plan for now. She couldn't let on that she knew about his plans for Severus, not when she wasn't sure what the detestable old man would try to do to interfere.

Dumbledore was dying, no two ways about it. But Severus needed to be the one to finish him off to secure his role as Voldemort's spy. Her mentor would hate himself for it, but she would be damned if she wasn't there afterwards to support him.

Heather had never made a secret of how little she liked Dumbledore, so if in the past few weeks she had been cold, bordering on rude, to the Headmaster, then no one paid any mind to it. Least of all the man himself. He had more important things on his mind, after all, such as plotting the sacrifice of her baby brother.

A subtle hand on her knee stopped the sneer that had been forming on her face. She faced Severus, dipping her head a little to show she understood. Turning her attention back to her breakfast, she berated herself for her slip in control. It was one thing to be flippant towards Dumbledore, and another entirely to be outrightly hostile. Especially considering that she was a Slytherin and that the other man was regarded as the leader of the Light side. It might send the wrong signals about her side in the war, and she definitely didn't need people questioning that.

The large flock of owls that came flying in through the large windows – built into the Great Hall for that very purpose – was always a sight to behold. Despite witnessing it countless times, the flurry of multicoloured feathers that fluttered in and spread throughout the hall never failed to bring her spirits up, at least a little. She wasn't surprised to see a spot of white separate from the group to dovetail towards her seat. She stretched her arm out just as Hedwig swooped by her, perfectly coordinated after years of practice. She didn't even flinch as sharp talons dug into her forearm, having placed a localised shield on the area.