Briar ⋆ Fred Weasley (2)

━ forty-seven: blue (reprise)

     "What?"

     "Do you know what's happened to your brother?"

     Laurel sat upright. Barty Sr. looked at her like he would scold her for her wrongdoing, but didn't have the heart to do so, at that moment in time. He possessed the promise of a future grounding, a future telling-off, one he simply couldn't be arsed with in the present second. She stared at her dad for a moment. She wasn't quite sure which way to act.

     Finally, Laurel cleared her throat.

     "Yeah, I do."

     "You overheard, I presume?"

     "Yeah, I did."

     Barty Sr. nodded. He made an excuse to leave, having noticed the tears in his daughter's eyes, and told her that lunch would be ready in half-hour. He already wasn't bothered to find his son. He'd already given up. How could a parent do that?

     Laurel watched the door close, but not completely. Tears ran down her cheeks as she got up to close it properly. Laurel sat with her back against the door, her arms hugging her legs as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and—

     Aster's missing. And they're not bothered in finding him.

✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

The first couple weeks went nice and smoothly;  Briar settled into teaching well, much to her own surprise. The first few lessons with every class were a bit difficult, but it got easier the more she got used to it. She had the lessons planned, she had the homework amounts low, because she was aware that her lessons didn't need it, and other teachers set it for no reason.

     It was odd, though, speaking to Slughorn. Briar had met him with she was in the staffroom, which she had often snuck in when Laurel and Remus worked at school, and they offered to get her tea or biscuits. Slughorn liked to discuss his old students. He had said, when Briar first introduced herself as the newest teacher, "Lupin! Oh, I knew your parents. Great students, they were. Your uncles and godfather, too. You have the same mannerisms as your parents, actually... This is odd, I say! It feels like just yesterday, I overheard that two ex-students had a child, about a month after they left school..."

     Briar's eyes had narrowed. Slughorn had pressed onto another topic, talking about how good her parents were. It was a good thing he'd never have her as a student. She was shit at Potions.

     Her class of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were clearing out as she filled in the notebook she'd been using to plan lessons, writing in the little section for her observations. She was trying her hardest to learn names, and to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, especially for the students that would be in school after her death. Her successor would already know a background on them. They'd be thankful for that.

     The usual ring of, "Thank you!" began to end as Briar stood up, brushing down her skirt. She had a free period before lunch on Thursdays. McGonagall told her that free periods before lunch were perfect to go to the kitchens and get something good, before it's all transferred into the Great Hall, especially in regards to veggie meals.

     She contently placed the box of crystal balls back in their place on the shelf, the one she had fitted in to try and make the classroom less crowded and difficult to concentrate in. Her hands strayed on the top of the box, and her head span when she stood up properly. Briar blinked, squeezing her eyes shut. She sat back down at the desk, dizzy and sick. Within seconds, her thoughts went from calm and relaxed to manic and panicked about predictions.

     Briar kept herself seated. When she was younger, before the bloodquills, it felt like years were spent watching her vision go from the present to the future. Now, the splotches appeared, and covered her vision as quickly as it took for Coco Pops to make milk go chocolatey.