𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

26: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔨 {𝔭𝔱. 𝔦𝔦}

TW: blood, gore, werewolves, self-hatred talk

Brigitte Alarie chewed on her lip, scarcely registering the skin she'd gnawed raw until she looked down at her Potions essay and saw two ruby red droplets, harsh against the blank parchment. Cursing under her breath, she reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, placing her hand firmly against her thigh to stop its incessant bouncing.

Everyone else had already gone off to bed, leaving the Common Room empty and clear of any distractions. And yet for two hours, she sat, gazing shamelessly out the window, quill scarcely grasped between her fingers.

She watched, as Sirius Black entered the Common Room in a flurry, eyes cold and determined, but oddly empty. She watched, as a certain door from a certain boys' dormitory opened, then slammed shut, with nobody entering or leaving.

She quickly raised the handkerchief to her lip, watching the arterial bloom of hyacinths against a starch white backdrop.

Swiping at her chin, she looked up as Sirius Black approached her, face stricken with desperation. His cheeks were wet, hands shaking uncontrollably. The candle flickered.

"Ala- Brigitte, please," he choked. "Please. I've done something terrible."

She immediately stood up, her inkwell beginning its angular descent. It shattered with the chiming sound of splintering glass, India ink seeping into the rug. She knew the instant she caught sight of Sirius's face. "Remus."

He didn't even register shock, just nodded fervently, covering his mouth with his hands. "I-I-"

There was a pause, the silence heavy in the air, asphyxiating. They both stood, mimicking each other's tense movements. Eventually, she spoke.

"I know what he is." She said this matter-of-factly, eyes boring into his with aggressive intensity. She had a feeling tonight was more dangerous than it seemed, and if her suspicions were correct, they only had fourteen minutes to stop a tragedy from occurring.

"You know?" Sirius glanced out the same window she'd spent her evening trained at. His breaths were uneven and jagged. "I-I told Snape."

"What?" She breathed, a venomous edge laced within her fatal whisper.

She shook her head incredulously, letting out a dry, humorless laugh. "Oh, I cannot believe you."

Sirius swallowed, closing his eyes. Face ready to crumple like the balled-up wads of parchment James loved to chuck to him. He was ready for a stinging sensation in his eyes, for his lacrimal glands to do their fucking job for the first time in years.

She snatched her wand off the table, daring him to rebuke her words of scorn. "Tell me you are lying."

But Sirius only stood there.

She ran out of the common room, jagged expletives escaping her throat in a frenzy of multilingual fury.

********

By some stroke of luck, she managed to evade notice by all patrollers that roamed the hallways. But she had sorely underestimated the sheer force of springtime cold. Nor the wrath of April showers, the spray of cold rain beating against her in cruel alliance with the wind.

She wished she hadn't been so hasty to run outside. She clutched her wand between clammy fingers, shivering violently in nothing but her soaking nightgown.

The only thing that kept her from freezing over was the ignition of deep, burning hatred for Sirius Black.

"If I were a magical school for children," she asked herself, trying to ward off the cold that was threatening to settle into her bones. "Where would I hide a werewolf?"