The Perfect Mistake (Larry Stylinson)

21. Snitches Get Stitches

A/N: Thank you for 285,000+ reads. Insane. My apologies if this story is 'getting boring' & to those who think I 'switch point of views too damn much & need to stop'. I'll try & fix these 'problems'. I mean it's not like this is my story or anything.

So I've gotten a few comments concerning Concilium Fratres. Apparently some of you think that they're basically The Volturi (from Twilight ftw)? All you really know about them though is that they aren't particularly fond of Louis. Why so quick to make assumptions then? Believe me, there are differences & you'll soon find out what those are. I haven't even scratched the surface with this story, let alone them. Patience please, that's all I ask. For now though, if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask. Doing so nicely would also be appreciated. We could all do with a little kindness every once in a while.

Oh & larry_crazyy? I've updated.

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~Niall's Point of View~

"Please tell me, exactly why am I enduring your presence right now?" A pair of dark green eyes rolled up towards the ceiling as an irritated breath was released from between thin lips. Long, tan fingers tapped out an annoyed tune on jean-covered thighs while the person whom they belonged to awaited a response.

He looked like any typical teenager that would rather be anywhere but where they currently were; dressed in a strategically ripped white t-shirt that was partially covered by an unzipped leather jacket, ripped at the knees jeans, and Converse. His appearance was a complete contradiction to the manner in which he spoke, the room he was occupying at the moment (which looked to be something straight from the Renaissance Era - it was -), and the shiny white marble chair he was currently slouching on. To his left was an intricately carved wooden chair and to his right, a glistening black marble chair. Next to that was a plush Victorian seat.

"I c-come baring valuable information," A woman's tiny voice quivered from a few feet away.

"Ah," He drawled, not holding back an overly exaggerated eye roll. "Everyone always thinks that what they have to say is of great importance... I guarantee you, it hardly ever is," He chuckled darkly.

"But-"

"Do not interrupt me when I am speaking child," His deep voice boomed, full of authority, causing the few people in the large room to cringe and the numerous chandeliers to shake violently in their places all along the ceiling. "I'll have you know that I was attending to far greater matters when you arrived, but I so graciously put them on hold to hear what you absolutely must let off your chest. You should be thankful that I didn't just have you killed. Now," He sat up straight and grinned dryly, running a quick hand through his artfully tousled hair. "What is it that plagues your mind so much so that you feel the need to alert Concilium Fratres?"

"T-the coven that's been residing in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire, England...you know them well r-right?" She questioned, not daring to look him directly in the eye.

"They are some of our oldest and most loyal. They've also contributed a great deal. So yes, I'd like to say that we know and have a large amount of respect for them." He paused for a moment before adding, "Well, most of them."

"You might want to reconsider the loyal part s-sir."

"And why would I want to do that?" He was growing more and more irritated with each second this supposed 'valuable information' was withheld.

"I know for a fact that they've broken rule number one. I've seen it and so have me sisters. They tried to outsmart us, but I saw right through them," She stated, causing a few shocked gasps to erupt around the room.