Grace; Harry Potter: The Avery Women; R
Jun. 1st, 2009 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriTitle: Grace
Fandom: Harry Potter
AU: The Avery Women
Rating: R
Timeframe: 1969
Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six
Chapter 7: Changes
"It's always been that way"
Niobe blinked awake, looking automatically for her head of House as she carefully sat up in the bed that had been hers for the last two full moons, and meeting the calm blue gaze of the Headmaster with a small frown.
"Good morning, Miss Avery." Dumbledore smiled kindly, holding out a cup that steamed invitingly once she'd arranged herself to her satisfaction.
"Headmaster." Niobe took the cup cautiously, sipping at the hot tea as she watched him with a frown. "Where's Professor Jemson? He was here last month."
"Professor Jemson stepped out a moment, he'll back shortly." Dumbledore sipped at his own tea, watching her over the rim of the cup for a long moment before he asked, quite gently, "Would you be willing to tell me about the dreams?"
Biting her lip, Niobe lowered her cup, holding it in both hands as she looked down at her lap. She hadn't really spoken to anyone about Grace since her mother had visited her in September, and even now, she was reluctant to talk about her. Or the dreams that had been stranger than any ones she'd ever had on the full moon before, and especially not with the Headmaster. Even if he had deduced what her sister's illness was.
After a long silence, she heard Dumbledore shift, and a hand came to rest on her shoulder, warm and she supposed comforting to some students. It merely made her worry at her lip a bit more, hunching her shoulders a moment before she consciously straightened them.
"I'll tell Madame Pomfrey you're awake, Miss Avery." He left after another moment, and Niobe let out a shuddering sigh of relief, tears stinging at her eyes. She didn't like the sense of disappointment that she felt directed at her in her few encounters with the Headmaster since September, as if he'd expected her to be different. Maybe more like the Gryffindors to whom keeping secrets was as foreign as ambition.
The door opening again made her look up, and Niobe gave Professor Jemson a wan smile, reaching up to scrub away the dampness on her cheeks. "Good morning, sir."
Professor Jemson raised an eyebrow, settling into the chair the Dumbledore had vacated. "It is certainly a fine autumn morning," he allowed, reaching out to tilt Niobe's face up. "You look like you've actually slept this time."
"A bit." Niobe looked away a moment before returning her gaze to his face. "I feel fine, sir, and I would like to go to breakfast in the Great Hall this time."
Shaking his head as he let her chin go, Professor Jemson gave her a wry smile. "That's up to Madame Pomfrey, I'm afraid, and I doubt she's willing to let you out of her infirmary quite yet."
Niobe scowled down at her tea. "I really did get enough sleep last night, sir. I'm fine," she insisted stubbornly.
"Miss Black." Professor Jemson waited until she met his gaze, his expression stern. "You said yourself you only slept a bit. For all that appearences are important, your health is more so, and it is that which Madame Pomfrey is concerned." He softened his tone, giving her a small smile. "As your Head of House, so am I. Your inability to wake from the dreams on your own is even more troubling."
"It's always been that way." Niobe spoke quietly, though she trusted the room was warded against eavesdroppers. Trusted Professor Jemson to make sure no one listened in on conversations she wouldn't want found out by the rest of the school. "Ever since Grace was bitten. Nothing mother's done has changed that."
Professor Jemson was quiet for a moment, and Niobe took the opportunity to drink the rest of her tea, stretching a little to set the cup on the table with the service on it. She didn't know if there was anything at all that could make the dreams stop, and let her at least pretend to be normal again. Instead of making everyone worry about nothing.
"Have you heard of Occulmancy?" The quietly-spoken question made Niobe look up with a puzzled frown on her face. "It's a mental discipline, to help keep others out."
Niobe shook her head, her frown fading as she waited for Professor Jemson to elaborate.
"I'm familiar with it, but not to the extent that would be most useful. The Headmaster is quite proficient, a master of the art. If you are willing to trust him to teach you, I can speak with him about giving you some lessons on the basics for now. I don't know how much it will help, but it can't hurt to know."
"I don't have to tell him about Grace for him to teach me, do I?" Niobe hunched her shoulders again, not at all comfortable with the idea that she might have to let someone else know the secret she had kept for so long.
"I'm afraid he would insist on knowing why you would want to learn Occulmancy, particularly as young as you are."
"But..." Niobe trailed off, shaking her head before she'd even spoken. "Why can't you teach me?"
"I can't teach you as much as the Headmaster, and in the end, I think it would be best for you to learn more than I can teach you."
"But not right now?" She looked up at him, her fear clear on her face. "I don't trust the Headmaster, not with this." Not with her sister's life and secrets.
Professor Jemson held her gaze a moment, watching her carefully. "I think it would be possible for me to teach you what I can. And when I have taught you all I can, we will revisit this discussion."
Niobe nodded, and fell silent again as the door opened to admit Madame Pomfrey. She didn't want to think about having to let Dumbledore know about Grace, but for right now, she didn't have to worry about that.
~ ~~ ~
Stepping out of the cave, Fenrir looked over at the girl who stayed close, blinking in the light of the setting sun. Grace had changed, taller now, but still a girl, at least for a few more months. He smirked when she stepped closer to him, her gaze flickering over the clearing. Wary of anyone who might be there, even though no one was. Still needing work, but that she stayed close without prompting was a start.
"Where are we going?" she asked, looking at him sideways, not quite meeting his gaze. "Other than 'to meet someone'?"
"You'll find out when we get there." Fenrir reached out to wrap his hand around the scruff of her neck, pulling her closer. "Hold on, cub."
Her hands wrapped around his arm, and he chuckled before apparating to the familiar environs of Knockturn Alley, keeping his hand on the back of Grace's neck as he headed for the small shop that was his planned destination.
The shopkeeper looked up when he entered, and flashed a brief, ingratiating smile before glancing at Grace. "Ah, Mr. Greyback. I have the item you asked for, just one moment." Fear permiated his scent as he scurried for the back room to fetch the package Fenrir had come for, and Fenrir grinned.
"What item?" The curiosity in Grace's voice was familiar, and Fenrir shrugged, flexing his fingers a moment to remind her to keep her questions to herself. She winced and he heard a familiar, faint snarl. Not a challenge, she didn't smell of that, but a complaint.
"Here you are." The shopkeeper set the slender box on the counter, watching Fenrir warily as the larger man reached out to open the box, plucking the wand out of the faded velvet.
Grace straightened a little, and excitement and anticipation rose to meet his nose. Hoping the wand was for her, even though he knew she didn't know enough to really use it. Not yet. Fenrir kept a hold of the wand a moment, waiting for the excitement to fade towards disappointment before he held out the wand to her.
"Sir?"
"Keep a hold of it, cub. Might teach you how to use it." With the unspoken need to behave if she wanted to learn. Fenrir's lips curled in an amused grin as Grace took the wand, knowing he'd just secured her loyalty. Wait until you see what the little monster you wanted dead becomes, Avery.
Fandom: Harry Potter
AU: The Avery Women
Rating: R
Timeframe: 1969
Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six
"It's always been that way"
Niobe blinked awake, looking automatically for her head of House as she carefully sat up in the bed that had been hers for the last two full moons, and meeting the calm blue gaze of the Headmaster with a small frown.
"Good morning, Miss Avery." Dumbledore smiled kindly, holding out a cup that steamed invitingly once she'd arranged herself to her satisfaction.
"Headmaster." Niobe took the cup cautiously, sipping at the hot tea as she watched him with a frown. "Where's Professor Jemson? He was here last month."
"Professor Jemson stepped out a moment, he'll back shortly." Dumbledore sipped at his own tea, watching her over the rim of the cup for a long moment before he asked, quite gently, "Would you be willing to tell me about the dreams?"
Biting her lip, Niobe lowered her cup, holding it in both hands as she looked down at her lap. She hadn't really spoken to anyone about Grace since her mother had visited her in September, and even now, she was reluctant to talk about her. Or the dreams that had been stranger than any ones she'd ever had on the full moon before, and especially not with the Headmaster. Even if he had deduced what her sister's illness was.
After a long silence, she heard Dumbledore shift, and a hand came to rest on her shoulder, warm and she supposed comforting to some students. It merely made her worry at her lip a bit more, hunching her shoulders a moment before she consciously straightened them.
"I'll tell Madame Pomfrey you're awake, Miss Avery." He left after another moment, and Niobe let out a shuddering sigh of relief, tears stinging at her eyes. She didn't like the sense of disappointment that she felt directed at her in her few encounters with the Headmaster since September, as if he'd expected her to be different. Maybe more like the Gryffindors to whom keeping secrets was as foreign as ambition.
The door opening again made her look up, and Niobe gave Professor Jemson a wan smile, reaching up to scrub away the dampness on her cheeks. "Good morning, sir."
Professor Jemson raised an eyebrow, settling into the chair the Dumbledore had vacated. "It is certainly a fine autumn morning," he allowed, reaching out to tilt Niobe's face up. "You look like you've actually slept this time."
"A bit." Niobe looked away a moment before returning her gaze to his face. "I feel fine, sir, and I would like to go to breakfast in the Great Hall this time."
Shaking his head as he let her chin go, Professor Jemson gave her a wry smile. "That's up to Madame Pomfrey, I'm afraid, and I doubt she's willing to let you out of her infirmary quite yet."
Niobe scowled down at her tea. "I really did get enough sleep last night, sir. I'm fine," she insisted stubbornly.
"Miss Black." Professor Jemson waited until she met his gaze, his expression stern. "You said yourself you only slept a bit. For all that appearences are important, your health is more so, and it is that which Madame Pomfrey is concerned." He softened his tone, giving her a small smile. "As your Head of House, so am I. Your inability to wake from the dreams on your own is even more troubling."
"It's always been that way." Niobe spoke quietly, though she trusted the room was warded against eavesdroppers. Trusted Professor Jemson to make sure no one listened in on conversations she wouldn't want found out by the rest of the school. "Ever since Grace was bitten. Nothing mother's done has changed that."
Professor Jemson was quiet for a moment, and Niobe took the opportunity to drink the rest of her tea, stretching a little to set the cup on the table with the service on it. She didn't know if there was anything at all that could make the dreams stop, and let her at least pretend to be normal again. Instead of making everyone worry about nothing.
"Have you heard of Occulmancy?" The quietly-spoken question made Niobe look up with a puzzled frown on her face. "It's a mental discipline, to help keep others out."
Niobe shook her head, her frown fading as she waited for Professor Jemson to elaborate.
"I'm familiar with it, but not to the extent that would be most useful. The Headmaster is quite proficient, a master of the art. If you are willing to trust him to teach you, I can speak with him about giving you some lessons on the basics for now. I don't know how much it will help, but it can't hurt to know."
"I don't have to tell him about Grace for him to teach me, do I?" Niobe hunched her shoulders again, not at all comfortable with the idea that she might have to let someone else know the secret she had kept for so long.
"I'm afraid he would insist on knowing why you would want to learn Occulmancy, particularly as young as you are."
"But..." Niobe trailed off, shaking her head before she'd even spoken. "Why can't you teach me?"
"I can't teach you as much as the Headmaster, and in the end, I think it would be best for you to learn more than I can teach you."
"But not right now?" She looked up at him, her fear clear on her face. "I don't trust the Headmaster, not with this." Not with her sister's life and secrets.
Professor Jemson held her gaze a moment, watching her carefully. "I think it would be possible for me to teach you what I can. And when I have taught you all I can, we will revisit this discussion."
Niobe nodded, and fell silent again as the door opened to admit Madame Pomfrey. She didn't want to think about having to let Dumbledore know about Grace, but for right now, she didn't have to worry about that.
Stepping out of the cave, Fenrir looked over at the girl who stayed close, blinking in the light of the setting sun. Grace had changed, taller now, but still a girl, at least for a few more months. He smirked when she stepped closer to him, her gaze flickering over the clearing. Wary of anyone who might be there, even though no one was. Still needing work, but that she stayed close without prompting was a start.
"Where are we going?" she asked, looking at him sideways, not quite meeting his gaze. "Other than 'to meet someone'?"
"You'll find out when we get there." Fenrir reached out to wrap his hand around the scruff of her neck, pulling her closer. "Hold on, cub."
Her hands wrapped around his arm, and he chuckled before apparating to the familiar environs of Knockturn Alley, keeping his hand on the back of Grace's neck as he headed for the small shop that was his planned destination.
The shopkeeper looked up when he entered, and flashed a brief, ingratiating smile before glancing at Grace. "Ah, Mr. Greyback. I have the item you asked for, just one moment." Fear permiated his scent as he scurried for the back room to fetch the package Fenrir had come for, and Fenrir grinned.
"What item?" The curiosity in Grace's voice was familiar, and Fenrir shrugged, flexing his fingers a moment to remind her to keep her questions to herself. She winced and he heard a familiar, faint snarl. Not a challenge, she didn't smell of that, but a complaint.
"Here you are." The shopkeeper set the slender box on the counter, watching Fenrir warily as the larger man reached out to open the box, plucking the wand out of the faded velvet.
Grace straightened a little, and excitement and anticipation rose to meet his nose. Hoping the wand was for her, even though he knew she didn't know enough to really use it. Not yet. Fenrir kept a hold of the wand a moment, waiting for the excitement to fade towards disappointment before he held out the wand to her.
"Sir?"
"Keep a hold of it, cub. Might teach you how to use it." With the unspoken need to behave if she wanted to learn. Fenrir's lips curled in an amused grin as Grace took the wand, knowing he'd just secured her loyalty. Wait until you see what the little monster you wanted dead becomes, Avery.