"Briar Lupin had dreamt, predicted, foreseen death more times than she cared to admit. If she actually remembered all of the times it had occurred, at least."
Sequel to Blue.
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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE FIVE DETENTIONS
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BRIAR HAD TAKEN A SWIFT turn into the direction of the Great Hall, planning to eat something green and filling before going to the first of her many detentions. She was yet to have another lesson with Umbridge, following the entire event of the first lesson and figured that they were all going to go downhill. It worried her that she had a teacher that visibly looked nasty at the mention of her dad, a werewolf, and how he talked about him. She didn't know if Seers fitted under the same category, but she figured that she'd get stabs at her regardless if she was psychic or not. She's half-werewolf. She could've been born with it. She's probably just as nasty, in the eyes of Umbridge, as her dad would be.
She sat down at the table. Harry was almost opposite, and she moved down to sit with him. Briar scooped up some of the broccoli and any of the vegetables within reach. "So, Harry, I heard about your argument with Umbridge," said Briar, shoving half a piece of broccoli into her mouth.
"I heard about yours, too," said Harry. Briar beamed. "Did she, uh, mention Cedric?"
Briar nodded. "Now, I don't know how old she is, but I'm pretty sure that, during her school days, if someone said that sort of stuff about her best friend, she wouldn't let it slide," she said. Pausing for a moment, Briar began cutting up one of the carrots. "She also called my dad a half-breed. She's going to hell for that."
"I don't blame you," said Harry. He shrugged. "It's like when Snape says stuff about my dad."
As she shook her head, Harry looked offended. Briar rolled her eyes at the look he was giving her. "No, it's worse with Snape saying that about James," said Briar. Harry's expression went from offended, to pleasantly surprised, to ashamed. "Snape knew James. They went to school together, they knew each other, even if they hated each other. Umbridge hates my dad, but he doesn't know him. It's worse when they're attacking someone that they know. It shows that they don't mind spitting poison close to their front door."
Harry argued, "Snape isn't nice to you, or your dad, either."
"He's made remarks about when I was born," said Briar. Her fingers held onto her cutlery with less grip than before. "And about my parents pitying me because of Cedric. It's not their fault that they're good parents, and he's too stuck up his own backside to have anyone love him back..."
