Brilliance is Corruptable

Chapter Eight

      “Good luck with Quidditch- by the look of the weather you’re going to need it.” George shifted to the side, allowing her room to sit, “Yeah, thanks. You coming to watch?” She shook her head, quickly apologizing when she saw his disappointed look, “I have a detention with Professor Lupin.”

Fred sat down beside her, just barely catching her words. He eyed her, eyes disbelieving. “You. No way, what for?”

Briar fiddled with her fingers for a moment, almost embarrassed, “He caught me sneaking out. - It was when I was exploring with the map.”

George shook his head, “Sucks, how many did he give you?”

Her fiddling increased, and she was staring firmly down at the table, “A week during the end of every month, until the end of the year.”

Fred whistled, “That’s pretty harsh for just sneaking out. – Especially from Lupin.”

She looked at them both, smiling mildly, face passive. “I guess, but I was outside. It’s dangerous even to leave the castles with the Dementors hovering around.” She glanced up at the clock, cursing quietly. “I’ve got to go; good luck, both of you.”

“What? No good luck kiss?” George teased her. She rolled her eyes, starting away. “No, Briar! Please, I don’t think I can play without a kiss!” George pretended to faint.

She huffed, slapping his arm, but reluctantly leaning down and swiftly pecking his cheek.

“Got one for me?” Fred joked; he was grinning ear to ear when she leant down and pecked his cheek as well.

Briar gave them both a firm look, “Goodbye.”

 As she started out of the Great Hall, she clapped a passing Harry on the shoulder. “Beat those Hufflepuffs, Potter.”

He gave her a grin over his shoulder, and hurried over to his team.

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On the third floor, closest room to the left, was Professor Lupin’s office. Briar knocked tentatively, pushing the door open when a quiet voice called out a weary, “Come in.”

Briar hurried in, closing the door behind her. She gave him a once over, rose a brow and said, “Rough night?”

He gave her a weak smile from his fluffy armchair. It looked as though he hadn’t slept or eaten in ages. He was thinner, his robes hanging off of him limply.

“Is it that easy to tell?” he mused. She sighed painfully, gathering a kettle and teacups. It looks as though Lupin had made tea- but had forgotten about it. She set down two teacups, and busied herself with filling them.

“I can do that,” Lupin said hastily, struggling to stand. She waved him off, “Stand and you’ll collapse, just rest Professor.”

It wasn’t a detention- and she felt terrible for lying to Fred and George.- Briar insisted on caring for her Professor on the night of his transformation, but Lupin shot down the idea, instead offering she visit him during the week afterwards. It was better than nothing, she had decided, quickly agreeing to his suggestion.

She handed him his teacup, took her own and sat across from him in another armchair. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Lupin made an embarrassed face, “I slept a bit, but I was having a terrible nightmare and I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the evening.”

Curiously, she shifted in her seat, “What was the nightmare about?”

His face grew all the more embarrassed, “That Sirius Black would visit me in the night.”

She couldn’t help but laugh; Lupin ducked his head, humiliated at her laughter. “Ah, Professor. I’m sorry- but just-“she shook her head, attempting to contain her giggles “-I think Black would be more afraid of a werewolf then you’d be afraid of him.”

Lupin chuckled a bit, “Yes I suppose you’re right.”

His eyes turned from his teacup to the window; from where they sat they could see a fuzzy outline of the Quidditch Pitch, as it was muddled by the rain.

“A terrible day for Quidditch,” he muttered, “I do hope everyone will be alright.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, she focused on the dregs in her cup.

The rain beat down heavily against the window panes, sounding similar to that of a drum. The winds whistled harshly, slapping the rain harder against the class, forked lighting lit up the sky, enough so she could see she silhouette of players, battling the storm.

Briar gave a quiet cough, clearing her throat. Lupin turned back to her, blinking out of his daydream- she didn’t dare ask, knowing it was far more personal than a silly nightmare.

“You’re a kind girl, Briar.” Lupin told her, very nearly nostalgically, “So much like your mother; it makes me miss her.”

She fiddled with her fingers, “Ca-Can you tell me about her?”

Lupin leaned back heavily in his chair, a mild smile lighting his exhausted features. “She was very intelligent, and had a knack for getting in trouble- of course when she did play a trick, she almost always festered up to it.” He sighed, “She had invited some mutual friends and I to her wedding- and she went the lengths to actually postpone the date of it, seeing as it didn’t fit my lunar schedule- your father wasn’t in the least bit happy over that.”

Lupin chuckled, “She almost always thought of her friends first, it wasn’t a surprise that more than just your father loved her.”    

Briar shifted in her seat, screaming with interest, “So who else loved her?”

It was Lupin’s turn to shift around in his seat, although he looked flustered. “I-I think it’s time you get back to studying for your O.W.Ls, Miss. York.”

He hurriedly stood, shuffling her out of his office and all but slamming the door on her behind.

Briar’s head buzzed with the newfound information. Who else loved her mother? Was it Lupin? She shook her head, it certainly was a possibility- but… who else?

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I do not own Harry Potter/characters/etc.

-AL