Dancing with Briar was almost enough to wipe the last half hour from his mind, except that he had to endure the memories for just a little longer so that he could share them with her. They were stronger together - they worked as a team, and Benjy knew that by telling Briar about what happened, it would ease some of his own fears about it. “He said that my cousin and my aunt are basically his biggest supporters-.. and that my cousin is even working for him,” Benjy said, and a shiver raced across his skin at the mere thought of it. He still couldn’t believe it - Lowell had no reason to lie, and it was obviously within his family’s best interest to support someone powerful within the Ministry, but to know that his own family were tied so closely to someone so bad - Benjy was struggling. But to hear that Lowell had also approached Briar made his own feelings of fear and anxiety fall away while anger and protectiveness overwhlemed him — he didn’t like the thought of Lowell anywhere near Briar, let alone dancing with her. “Are you okay?” he asked immediately, searching her face and realizing that that was why she’d looked strained and as though her cheeks were flushed. Lowell obviously hadn’t hurt her, physically, but knowing that he’d used Benjy’s family against him gave him a fair idea of how he’d come at Briar, and he worried about her despite all of her strength. “What does he know?” Benjy asked, anxiety creeping up as he glanced around, looking for Lowell, as though he’d suddenly be there behind them, ready to take them both to Azkaban. “Is it about you looking for Lennox’s location? Or-… or something else?” he asked, holding her closer as their movements were halted almost completely and people danced around them, oblivious.
At the very mention of Benjy's pureblood family, Briar could feel her blood begin to boil, anger replacing her fear of Lowell. Briar often wished for the chance to meet his cousins and pay them back for everything horrible thing they did to Benjy as a child, but in the end, she knew it was better to stand by Benjy as he did what he thought was best when it came to his family rather than fight his battle for him. From the stories that Benjy shared with her that concerned his pureblood aunt and her sons, Briar could have easily guessed that they would support the new minister, but Briar was surprised to learn that Benjy's brother was working alongside the man. It made Briar fearful of what awaited Benjy if he ever needed to return to his aunt's home and she was grateful that they both were in their seventh year and could escape their families as soon as graduation came and went. "Did Lowell say at what capacity your cousin is working for him?" Briar asked, though after her own conversation with Lowell, she learned that he leaned on the side of vagueness. The most blunt thing he had said to her regarded the werewolf registry and even then, Lowell had not brought up the registry by name. It seemed one of Lowell's greatest skills was layering conversation, making sure the person he was speaking to knew he held all the cards without losing his polite smile. It made Briar wonder just how long Lowell has been playing the game and how long he has had people gathering information for him within Ministry departments. "He knew about the information my uncle gave me, all of it. Lennox's location, a copy of the werewolf registry. He could kill my uncle for releasing that kind of information, but I think he would rather hold it over both of our heads," Briar said, not holding back her disgust with Lowell's tactics. With all her secrets in the palm of his hands, Briar felt vulnerable, backed into a corner before she even knew what was happening. Briar leaned her head against Benjy's chest and tried to hold back her tears. "What are we going to do?"
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He’s not someone that I will ever view as a leader, not in my book. And hopefully… I managed to tell him that I will never support him, just not… In so many words. I wasn’t pleased to talk to him at least. He knew… About everything. And the strangest thing, I’ve seen him shaking hands with just about everyone, but he didn’t even attempt it with me. As if I were… Contagious or something. He knew about… Damnit, so… No matter what we do, he’ll know? How could he possibly know? What else did he say, did he threaten you?
You may not see it this way, but I stand by what I said. You are the one who can get under Lowell's skin. He needs to seem like he has the werewolves support or the protests will never end, but you were able to show him that support can't be earned after one conversation. At the very least, you got a few words in during your conversation. I perhaps said two words to him and the rest of the time, he ran the show like you would expect him to. He has a way about him - he's able to seem so polite and yet you always feel all the implications of his words. He asked me if I would do all that I could to be sure my uncle's reputation stayed clean and I took that to mean I either stop asking for Ministry information or my uncle would pay for it. I can only assume he knows the things he does because he has friends in high places.
Only a few days in, and he already acts as though he just became… The leader of the world or something. I’m sure he’s got a lot of plans, and I’m pretty sure that 80% of them will piss us all off. Um- yeah, he cornered me earlier, I thought I was doing a good job of hiding, but there he was, right behind me. He was… Basically picking at every sore spot I’ve ever had. My being a werewolf, my blood now being impure, my father disowning me… It was- Uncomfortable, to say the least. Did he talk to you as well? What did he say?
He technically is the leader of our world, but his smugness does rub me the wrong way. Though, it could just be the eyes that could make even the strongest man quiver. So, he basically knew every little thing that would make you tick? I had a similar experience. He knew about some things that I asked my uncle in the Ministry to do for me over the past few months and he made it very clear what would happen if I didn't back off. I will say this for Lowell - he has spies in all the right places. And he's mastered the art of intimidation.
Oh, I know she would fight to keep me here, but we both know that Lowell is one of the people that don’t want me here. This night wasn’t designed for him, he was the one who designed it. It was like Envest told me earlier. We’re here for his display, he’s checking where our loyalties lie. I hope… That his brief conversation with me told him that he won’t be winning me over.
Lowell needs to choose his battles wisely though, especially since he is only a few days into his tenure as minister. Even if he plans on restricting the werewolves, starting with a fight against Hogwarts and its headmistress would alienate a large portion of the wizard world population. And since he is checking where our loyalties lie, I hope he sees that many of us are not so easily persuaded by fancy parties and charming smiles. Wait...you talked to Lowell, too? What did he say?
Since the moment that Lowell had left, Benjy’s mind hadn’t stopped turning over the facts of what had happened. Each word that Lowell had spoken was forever burned into his brain, along with the images he created of his aunt and his cousins all joining the new minister for a round of tea at his house. He still felt a little sick at the prospect and longed for fresh air, but with Lowell’s aurors guarding the exits, he was trapped in the Great Hall for the foreseeable future. Just as he was considering faking illness in order to go back to his dorm, an arm linked with his and the voice of reassurance filled his ear, and despite everything, Benjy smiled. “You can have whatever you request of me, my dearest Emma,” he said, trying to perk himself up and sound more enthusiastic than he felt, but as he followed Briar toward the dance floor, he thought that even she looked a little strained. Benjy dropped his hand to hers and used it to pull them closer together while the music swelled around them — something romantic and slow, loud enough to keep their conversation private. “I’ve missed you,” he said, head bowed down beside hers as they rocked in time to the music, his heart beating steadily now that Briar was with him - Briar was all he needed. “Where were you?” he asked, trying not to sound as scared as he felt with his mind full to bursting of images of his family. “I had an-… encounter with Lowell - I wish you were there. He’s just a man, but honestly, he’s terrifying,” he added in a low voice, gripping her hand a little tighter.
The slow music that guided their movements was reminiscent of the music playing during her dance with Lowell, but Briar hoped that being with Benjy would erase that moment from her memory. His words, his piercing eyes, and his unsettling smile were seared into her brain, but his grip on her hand and waist were easily forgotten and replaced by Benjy's warm and comforting touch, making swaying along with the music simple. The couples around them slowly faded away until all Briar focused on was Benjy and the way her heart swelled whenever she was near him. Briar could take on the world as long as Benjy was by her side, which was why she so greatly wished Benjy had been there when Lowell had approached her and she was shocked to learn that the feeling was mutual. Briar momentarily stopped the gentle sway they had fallen into when Benjy told her that Lowell had approached him to, signalling that she was not the only one that Lowell had taken an interest in. Though Briar was hardly surprised, it also brought on more questions and worries. If Lowell had been so perceptive and unearthed Briar's secret, how long would it be until he found the skeletons in Benjy's closet as well? She knew Benjy would not be standing there with her had Lowell known that Benjy had been turned in London, but that did not make the fear any less real. "What did he say? Did he ask you any questions?" Briar asked quickly and urgently, though her voice did not rise above a whisper. "He came up to me, too and he-...we danced. After it happened, I had to get out of the hall, so I slipped away to the bathroom. Benjy-...he something...about me and about my uncle...something that he shouldn't have known."
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The reflection in the bathroom mirror had not been kind to Briar. Her eyes held tears that threatened to spill and nothing could conceal the dark red flush that covered her face. The conversation with Lowell had left her shocked and panicked, enough to make hiding herself in a bathroom stall more appealing than spending another few hours trapped in the Great Hall while the minister lurked around every corner. The man knew her greatest secret and had used it so calmly and effectively against her and all Briar could do was bend to his will. That alone was justification enough for cowardice, but Briar recalled what she said Zane only an hour ago: they could not allow Lowell any more victories. Though he had won a battle against her, Briar had to keep her head up and continue fighting. Glancing at the reflection in the mirror one last time, Briar wiped away the tears and took a few deep breathes in hopes that the blush would diminish. Once she appeared presentable, Briar left the bathroom and reentered the Great Hall with only one plan of action: finding Benjy. After a lap around the room, Briar spotted him on the outskirts of the dance floor, thankfully without a group surrounding him. Coming up behind him, Briar slipped her arm through his. “May I have another dance?” Her voice sounded more on edge than she would have liked, but Briar did not care if he picked on up it. She planned on telling him everything that Lowell had said, seeking comfort and reassurance that she did not just cost one of her dearest friends his life.
Hmm, I managed to completely avoid the last ball, but I did hear rumours about what had happened. Though I do tend to not take rumours too seriously. Surely there’s a magical equivalent of a breathalyzer test?
Oh, any rumors you heard about the last ball were undoubtedly true, though perhaps a bit exaggerated. The case of the bunch bowl took a dramatic turn to be sure. If there was a magical equivalent, I'm sure McGonagall would employ it. It is either that or simply asking the intoxicated student to walk a straight line.
I don’t think that I would be comfortable doing that, had I been… Who I used to be, I probably would have. They’ll take any excuse to throw me out of school… I don’t know, I just feel like hiding is the better option right now.
Please-...if you don't think McGonagall wouldn't fight to keep you at this school, you might have gone temporarily insane. This night may be designed for him, but you and I both know the truth...or as close to the truth as we can get. He doesn't need more victories, Zane. He needs to see that not everyone is so willing to bow down to him.
A pair of heels and a dress that ghosted the floor as she walked were nothing new to Briar. The ball was a painful reminder of the society that waited for Briar once she arrived home for the summer and the society she would be remaining in if she chose to accept a job within the Ministry. The young faces with bright eyes and carefree smiles was a striking difference to the critical glances of her pureblood acquaintances, but the ball still carried the tense atmosphere Briar associated with pureblood galas and she could be sure the tension was felt by all those who were doubtful of the new minister’s intentions. Briar had yet to catch but a glimpse of the man that she had heard so much about throughout the last few months, but she kept her gaze ahead and her ears open for the hushed voices that surely accompanied the minster as he made his way around the room.
Briar slipped through the crowd that had gathered in the center of the room and planted herself near a refreshments table, stocked high with small deserts and large punch bowls that did not hold a trace of alcohol. Only liquid courage would have made the evening more bearable, but the eyes of the minister’s aurors were everywhere – piercing gazes that could cause even the strongest and bravest of Gryffindors to shudder. Even now, Briar felt as if one such harsh gaze was trained on her and paranoia caused her to turn around only to find herself face to face with the man of the hour – Lowell Tegus.
Every muscle, every bone, every cell in her body froze and all Briar could do was stare motionlessly at the man in front her, his cool blue eyes looking down at her with unsettling intensity that kept her rooted to her spot. If Lowell noticed her rigidness and momentary loss for words and action, he made no comment of it and extended his hand towards her with an easy smile on his face that nearly sent a shiver down her spine. “Ms. Marquet, I was hoping to properly greet you before the night came to an end. You truly are the spitting image of your mother.”
It was the mention of her mother that brought Briar out of the trance. Briar thought of how her mother would admonish her for remaining frozen and unresponsive in the presence of a man of such importance, taking Briar back to the days where she was a young girl who still responded to lectures from her mother. Putting on the face of the good pureblood lady her mother always wanted her to be, Briar pushed her shoulders back, tilted her chin up, and took Lowell’s hand in hers to shake, plastering on a toothy smile that strained at the edges. Briar attempted to pull her hand away once the shake was complete, but Lowell did not release his grip and it took all semblance of control for Briar not to squirm. “Would you honor me with a short dance?” Lowell asked, giving reason for his grip on her hand. It was her first instinct to say no and flee, but curiosity and fear fought against it. Briar desperately wanted to learn about this man who only a few months ago had a name no one had heard of outside the Ministry. If the whispers around the castle could be trusted, fear and intimidation had everything to do with his rise to power, but Briar dared not betray any obvious signs of fear. Saying no could send off warning bells and that was what convinced Briar to nod and follow Lowell to the dance floor just as a slow waltz began.
Ignoring the looks from the couples surrounding them on the dance floor proved difficult as Briar did everything in her power to avoid Lowell’s piercing gaze. The blue eyes seemed to defy all sense privacy, seeing straight into her mind and trapping her under their gaze. Even more unbearable than the all-seeing eyes was the silence that had enveloped them. Briar feared what Lowell was thinking, what he picked up from every small move she made or every word she did not speak. There were very few times when Briar found herself lost for words, but in the middle of the dance floor with the minister’s iron grip on her hand and waist, Briar was speechless.
Without any control of her own to break the silence, it was Lowell who finally spoke. “I am afraid I was only able to meet your father on one or two occasions before his passing. Cancer, was it?” Briar could not hold back the grimace that came every time a person brought up her father’s untimely death. Very few ever spoke about it out loud, but Briar could not find it in her to feel shocked that Lowell would use it as a topic of conversation. All she could do in response was nod and try not to scowl as Lowell kept speaking of her great father, a man who deserved more than the fake admiration of a deceitful politician. “A terrible muggle disease, what a pity we have still not been able to cure it with the use of magic. I imagine he would have continued to do great things within my administration.”
It was near impossible to swallow down her disgust and Briar opened her mouth to respond only to be interrupted by Lowell. “Though, I am glad his colleague and good friend still holds his position within the Regulation of Magical Creatures department. Mr. Dalton is his name?” At the mention of Charlie, Briar could feel her calm exterior begin to crumble and worry come seeping through the cracks, making her hardly able to nod in response to Lowell’s question. Though she knew her uncle to be a cautious man, there was no way of knowing where Lowell placed his allies to act as spies. “I do have high hopes for him, but I have heard some rumors about him as of late, rumors that unsettle me. Tell me, Ms. Marquet, can I trust Mr. Dalton?”
For the first time, Briar was allowed to speak and her answer was automatic. “Of course.”
But it was as if her worst fears were being realized and the eerily calm smile that Lowell had kept on his face throughout their dance noticeably faltered as if he had been expecting a different answer. Had Briar not been so fearful for the safety of her uncle, she would have asked Lowell why he assumed she would so easily turn on those closest to her. It seemed that everyone in her family’s circle expected her, even after all her years of quiet but persistent rebellion, to fall in line as soon as graduation came and went. Her loyalty was not a thing to be trifled with and thought Briar could not prove it so readily to Lowell, she would in time. With a smile fire kindled within her, Briar regained her sense of control and gave Lowell a confident smile that greatly contrasted his frown.
“But you see, how can I trust officials who release classified information to members of the public? You see my reluctance, Ms. Marquet?” Rather than feed her fire, Lowell snuffed it out with one subtly layered sentence. Briar could feel herself beginning to panic, thoughts of Charlie’s body being found in an alley behind the Ministry racing through her mind until it was all she could see. And his death would be all on her shoulders. “It would be a shame if these rumors were found to be true. I am certain you would do everything in your power to ensure Mr. Dalton’s reputation stays intact?”
That was the final nail in the coffin that Lowell had been steadily crafting for her throughout their whole conversation. Lowell knew that Briar had the werewolf registry. He knew that Charlie Dalton was providing his old friend’s daughter information that should never be released to the public. It was even possible that Lowell knew Briar had information regarding the last minister’s whereabouts. All of this would be enough for the execution of her uncle and her imprisonment if Lowell felt so generous. But the way that Lowell was smiling at her now made Briar certain that was not the case. He did not want to see either in a body bag. He wanted to see both of them bend to his will and that was what Briar would be forced to do. With a single nod of her head, Briar confirmed that she would do everything in her power to keep her uncle safe and that would start with burning the werewolf registry in her possession and end with Briar ending contact with Charlie and his department.
Lowell seemed all too happy when he gave Briar a pleased smile. “Good.” The music came to an end and the dance that they had barely done ended with it. As the last chord faded, Briar took a large step back and inwardly sighed in relief when there was finally distant between her and Lowell. That did not stop him from giving her a final parting gift.
“You could do great things in a position within the Ministry, Ms. Marquet. Just do well to remember where you come from. A young woman like you could waste all her potential if she chooses the wrong path.”
After what transpired at the last ball, I'm surprised they are not using those muggle contraptions that check a person's breath to see if they are intoxicated. But I suppose using anything muggle in the presence of our new Minister would cause a scandal.
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Or you could plant yourself in the center of the dance floor and show the new Minister and his goons that you are sick of hiding. Stand tall, Blyth because if anyone in this hall can get under that man's skin, it's you.
The occasion certainly called for it, though fancy dresses and stiff suits should be nothing new to us. A compliment is a compliment though and I can return the favor. That dress is certainly an eye-catcher.
Actually, ferret feces can be used as good fertilizer for flesh eating plants in the Greenhouses. So really, ferret feces are actually worth more than the Daily Prophet, it’s a blessing for that so-called newspaper to be used to carry around such excrement. Oh really? A new Minister, which one of idiots that were campaigning got the oh so lovely position as head of the British Magical World?
I really did not need to know that much about ferret feces, but at the same time, I do see that they prove more useful than the drivel that dominates the Daily Prophet. It might be time to search for alternate news sources, if any are left standing. Our new Minister may see to it that freedom of the press is completely squashed, but that may be a bit too pessimistic. His name is Lowell and the consensus seems to be that he's bad news.
"It doesn’t really make a difference right now to me, really, Briar. I won’t sell them then. I’ll just distribute with the option to take donations."
Clever, but cleverness can only survive so long up against authority. They have already taken away our freedom to stay in other dorms and wander out past ten. Freedom of the press could be next. Though, something tells me the aurors in this castle are not near as controlling as our new minister will be.
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I guess I’m just a silver linings type of guy? But I’m a bit confused…why would my optimism be ill placed? I know a lot of people aren’t that interested in the elections, but I thought…I thought it was just disinterest? Not anything more?
Let me tell you a sad tale, Matlin. Sorry that it does not include ghosts or space or whatever else fills that head of yours. Once upon a time, there was a deceitful and conniving man. By methods unclear, but almost surely illegal in some regards, he rose to prominence in the Ministry and intimidated all who crossed him. Now that man has been elected Minister and there is no telling what his intentions are for the present, but I do fear for our future.
I’m pretty sure that if someone came to me when I was having a bad day and talked to me about the Giant Wars, I’d feel a lot better afterward - the peace deal they brokered changed wizarding and magical creature relations for the new three centuries! Firewhiskey with Zane? I-.. well, I guess I’m not really in a position to say no, but-… I’m not sure alcohol can solve the problems in this case - but we can try, right? I know we have some photos from over the years, so we can look at those… as for Nolan stories-… I feel like Nolan was the best at telling Nolan stories, and everything I try will just fall short. But I’m in if you guys are? I think-… I think this is the kind of night we all need after what’s happened, it’s just a shame we can’t invite Benjy or any of the others.
Sometimes I wonder if you are even human, Keller. Only you would find the Giant Wars and peace deals made centuries ago mood boosting. I, on the other hand, will continue to find anything remotely connected to history dull. Firewhiskey and stories are the stuff of fun and perhaps they can make us forget for a little while that our friends have abandoned us in our time of need. We can reflect on the times when they were actually here and they did actually care. And we can do our best to bring the spirit of Nolan to life. Merlin knows, I could use some of his humor right about now. I'll talk to Zane and we'll make it happen. It is a shame, though. I know Tuesday would love the company. As would Benjy and Tyler. We seventh years really are a sorry lot now, aren't we?
