Of Silver and Green

Ch. 17 Friends?

The three Slytherins were huddled at the end of the table, speaking rapidly in hushed voices. The first thing Brynne had told Blaise and Draco at dinner was that her identity may have been compromised. Now they were discussing a list of suspects. Draco and Blaise thought it was Goyle right away, especially after Draco told Blaise about Goyle's threat. Brynne had her own suspicions, however. The shape hadn't been large enough to be Goyle...

Unconsciously her eyes drifted to the Gryffindor table. She saw that Potter was sitting between the Weasley twins, who were talking animatedly at him, gesturing towards her table. 'So, they didn't graduate last year after all,' she thought. 'Oh well, I can't be held responsible for not keeping tabs on Gryffindorks. At least I'll have them to take the fall for me for another year.'

Potter noticed her staring and caught her eye. From the look on his face, she could tell that it had been him. She should have felt violated by his intrusion, or at least been worried, but she felt nothing of the sort. She knew he wouldn't tell anyone. He was a Gryffindor. They had a bloody code of honour. A thought occurred to her.

"What about the other players? Are they going to say anything?"

Blaise shook his head. "Draco here threatened us all with immediate dismissal from the team if we so much as breathed a word of it to anyone," he said grinning.

Draco nodded. "We've got to maintain team secrecy. And also, this could be a very effective weapon if you revealed yourself at a key moment in an important game."

"You're right," she agreed, but then added, "but I hope that it won't be necessary any time soon."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to make you. It was only a suggestion," said Draco reassuringly. Blaise nodded his assent. "I wonder what my father would think of this," he muttered.

"Oh, that reminds me," Blaise remarked. "I wanted to ask you if you figured out how to answer your father's letter."

"Yes, I did," Draco answered nonchalantly. "I told him the truth." Brynne blanched. "Well, not all of it," he added quickly, noting her facial expression. "I told him your name and I explained what Goyle did. I didn't mention your involvement. I also told him that after abandoning my old 'friends', I found some new ones, more suitable ones. I mentioned you, Blaise, and also Blair. Of course, I didn't use the word 'friend'. A true Malfoy, so my father believes, does not have friends, only subordinates."

Brynne and Blaise both frowned at this, but neither was sure what the appropriate response was. An uncomfortable silence followed, which was finally broken by Brynne clearing her throat. Dinner was just about over, signaling that Draco's other lessons were about to begin.

"Oh Draco darling," Brynne said with over-dramatic nauseating sweetness oozing from her voice. "Have you noticed what time it is?" Blaise looked first to Brynne then to Draco, his face the epitome of bewilderment.

Draco smiled apologetically. "Sorry Blaise, we've got plans that unfortunately, you can't be involved in."

"Oh really?" he replied, eyebrows hoisted. "And I wonder what kind of activity you two could possibly be up to tonight that you wouldn't want me involved..."

"Not what you're thinking, I assure you," Brynne interjected quickly, turning pink. "At some point we may tell you, but right now, its just too dangerous."

"Now I'm intrigued..." he began, but then, noticing the warning look in Draco's face, continued, "but your secret, whatever it is, is safe."

"Good," said Draco, getting up. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll see you tomorrow at practice. But maybe you'd like to see what Blair's doing tonight...you could meet at the library and 'study', or maybe even the Astronomy Tower..." he called as Brynne dragged him away.

"I can't believe you said that!" Brynne said as soon as they were out of sight, a smile playing across her lips. "Pretty funny though. I don't think Blair knows the Astronomy Tower is for anything besides astronomy."

Draco laughed. "Well, I'm sure Blaise would love to demonstrate its more charming uses..."

~~~***~~~

Once they reached Draco's room, Draco locked the door behind them and asked, "What have you got planned for tonight?"

"More of the same," Brynne answered. "A few hours of book study, followed by a few more of meditation." She noted the sullen expression on his face. "I told you this could take a while," she said gently. "Although I've come down on my original figure. I think, with your progress, it will take you two weeks tops. It took me a month and a half."

Draco brightened a bit at this and pulled one of the books open to where they had left off last night. "How old were you?" he asked quietly.

"Twelve," she answered. "I'd been asking my parents ever since I first saw my mother do it. I was about five. They made me wait until I was developed enough magically. Ever since the summer between second and third year, Transfiguration has just come easy. I think McGonagall may suspect something, considering before that, it was my worst subject."

"What are your parents?" asked Draco, looking up from the page he was reading.

"My mother is a peregrine falcon and my father is a black stallion. An odd pairing really, and yet so perfect for each other." Brynne saw that she had touched on a sore subject when she was the look of pain reflected in Draco's stormy silver eyes. "Sorry," she said quietly, moving next to him and resting his head on her shoulder. The two continued their work, the silence only broken by the occasional question from Draco regarding the reading.

~~~***~~~

At around a quarter to twelve, Brynne kissed Draco's temple. "I think it's time I left you to meditate," she whispered in his ear.

Draco got up and began to light the candles. They had remained in their positions from last night. "How long tonight?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," Brynne answered. "I'll come and relieve you when I think you've had enough. Not more than three hours." She walked out the door and shut it before he could respond. She locked the door and cast the silencing spell and hurried to her room.

Brynne threw open her bedroom door, knowing none of her roommates would be there on a Friday night. She crossed the room quickly and pulled Mordechai from his tank, talking to him quietly in order to calm him. She wrapped the copper snake around her bicep and pulled her cloak around her. She glanced at her clock as she fastened the cloak at her neck. Five after. She was late! She pulled the cowl over her face and made her way out of the dormitory and the common room and out into the halls of the dungeon.

"You're late," came a disembodied voice. "I thought you weren't coming." Brynne started and whipped around, recognizing the voice immediately. She rushed towards the source of the voice and in a flash she yanked the invisibility cloak off of a very shocked Harry Potter.

"Follow me," she said simply, leading Potter to an empty classroom. "So what were you wanting?"

"I just want to talk to you. Especially about Parseltongue. I've never been able to talk to any other Parselmouths."

"I will only agree to talk to you as long as I don't have to hear anything negative about Draco. The minute you insult him is the instant I stop being civil."

"I can agree to that," Potter replied.

"So what do you want to know?"

"I was wondering: are all the members of your family Parselmouths?"

"You see this pendant?" she asked, pulling the snake-eye necklace from within her robes. "This is a symbol that I come from a long line of Parselmouths. Generally speaking, all of my relatives that were born Dharielles and didn't marry into our family are Parselmouths. For some reason, instead of fading, the talent remained strong throughout our lineage. Funny thing is, no one in the family really knows where it originated."

Potter gazed at the emerald pendant. "So everyone in your family that is a Parselmouth has one of those?"

"Yes, but only highborn wizard families know of its significance, which is how I've been able to keep the secret so well. As a matter of fact, Draco's the only one who noticed. But what about you? Where did you get the ability from? Were any of your family Parselmouths?"

Potter grimaced. "Only a few people know this. You won't say anything?" he asked.

"You're already keeping several secrets for me. I'm obliged to keep yours. But even more, despite being a Slytherin, I carry myself by the Dharielle code of honour. I don't break promises and I don't tell secrets."

Potter looked impressed. "Well, when Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, Dumbledore believes that he transferred some of his powers to me. By all rights, I should be a Slytherin, if I hadn't asked the Sorting Hat to place me anywhere but."

Brynne sucked in a breath. How horrible! To get such a rare and remarkable talent from the very wizard who killed your parents and tried to send you with them. Potter must feel terrible. She felt a twinge of sympathy. She never thought Potter might have to hide something. He must have been uncomfortable with her silence, because he promptly changed the subject.

"So Malfoy knows you play Quidditch." She gave him a warning look and he raised his hands to signify that he meant nothing by it.

"Yes, and you know damn well he does. I saw you there, and you know I know it was you."

"And? What's your proof?" Her jaw worked soundlessly for a few seconds before he continued. "How did he react?"

"He was shocked, impressed, a bit disappointed I hadn't told him before. How would you have reacted?" she asked angrily.

He ignored her question. "But you were worried."

"Of course!" she nearly shouted, forgetting where she was. "Draco is different from most people. He reacts to things differently. I wasn't sure how he would react..." she said more quietly.

"You know I've been watching you," he admitted.

"Yes, although I don't understand why."

"That is because the only Malfoy I've ever known is arrogant, vindictive, and extremely vicious, and I didn't want to see you get hurt. You didn't seem like the other Slytherins. They don't feel things like everyone else. But," he said as she frowned, eyes hardening imperceptibly, "I've also noticed a completely different Malfoy over the past few days. One who doesn't depend on the approval of his Slytherin lackeys, one who seems genuinely happy for the first time in years, one who cares about things."

Brynne's eyes had widened at this extremely perceptive analysis. "How do you know all that?"

"'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' Malfoy has been my rival for the better part of five years. You don't watch someone for that long without learning a few things about them. But that's not the point. My point is that Malfoy cares about you, I can tell. He's not going to go off the deep end because you kept something as inconsequential as that from him. You've been really good for him. He's changed."

"You understand him so well," Brynne commented. "It's a shame that you two couldn't have been friends."

Potter blanched. "I could never have been his friend as he was when we met. And as much as he's changed, I can't imagine his pride stretching so far as to make up with his rival of five years."

Brynne played his words over in her head, realizing Potter had no real objection to her comment. An interesting idea, Potter and Draco friends. It would certainly cure her of the situation she currently found herself in...consorting with the enemy.

"Hey," said Potter, breaking her from her thoughts, "do you have that snake with you?"

"Yes," she replied, pulling up her sleeve to reveal the sleeping snake. She tenderly caressed the copper coils, a slight smile playing across her lips.

"Do you always have him with you?" he asked.

"Most of the time, unless there's a chance he could get hurt. I never bring him to the Quidditch pitch, for example."

"Can I touch him? I like snakes."

"I don't know. You could ask him," Brynne replied uncertainly.

Potter began speaking in a soft hissing voice. Although Brynne could understand every word, she knew unmistakably that he was speaking Parseltongue. "What's your name?" she heard Potter ask.

If Mordechai could have blinked in surprise, Brynne was sure he would have. The snake looked at her for assurance and she nodded back. "Mordechai," answered the snake in its own hissing tone.

"Would you mind if I touched you?" Potter asked.

Again Mordechai looked at Brynne. She shrugged, indicating it was the snake's decision. "No, I guess not," said Mordechai, uncoiling a bit. Potter stretched out his fingers toward the snake and ran them lightly along the coppery scales.

"Impressive," Brynne commented. "Must be because you asked him, but usually Mordechai doesn't like people touching him unless I say it's alright. You saw how he reacted to you last night."

"I was also in a threatening position," Potter replied, lifting his eyes from Mordechai to look her in the face. "Sorry about that."

Brynne was temporarily lost in twin pools of green. She shook her head to clear it. "I think it would be best if we don't meet anymore. Draco would never forgive me for sneaking around to talk to you if he found out. He might think there's something going on."

"Isn't there?" Potter asked softly.

"No," she replied firmly.

"Then why did you agree to meet me?"

"You blackmailed me!" she exclaimed.

"I didn't the first time."

"I was curious what a high and mighty Gryffindor would have to say to a Slytherin that he couldn't say in front of a class of people."

"I didn't think you would talk to me if there were people around," Potter replied.

"I don't like many of my house-mates; I couldn't care less what they think."

"And what of Draco?"

"I know he won't like it, but I'm sure he would prefer me talking to you in public rather than me sneaking around."

"Well, ok then, you won't mind if I talk to you in public?"

"No, I guess not, but why?" she asked curiously.

"You're the only person I've ever talked to who didn't feel it necessary to pry into my personal past or ask about my parents or the scar."

Brynne paused, touched. Then she glanced at her watch. "As enlightening as this conversation has been, I'm afraid I've got to go, before I'm missed."

"Who would be looking for you at this hour?" asked Potter.

Brynne raised an eyebrow. "You mean you can't take a wild guess?" she asked with a smirk.

"Where does he think you are now?" he asked frowning.

"He's busy. In fact, he not even thinking about me, I'd wager," she replied, her expression not changing.

"Huh?"

"If I tell you something, you have to keep it to yourself." She didn't know why she wanted to trust him with this secret. Maybe it was because he was being so honest with her. She saw him nod and continued. "I'm training Draco to be an animagus."

"But to do that, you'd have to be..." Realization dawned on his face. "You're an animagus?"

"Wow, maybe Gryffindorks aren't as slow as I thought," she replied dryly.

"How is that possible?"

"I was trained by my parents when I was twelve. I'm not registered, which is why you're keeping this to yourself."

"What animal are you?"

"A fox named Scorch."

"With your hair, it's really no wonder," Potter grinned.

"Thank you," she said. "But really, I ought to go now."

"When can we talk again?"

"I don't know. When you have something you want to talk about." She handed back the invisibility cloak. "Now, get out of here, before you get your reputation tarnished by the evil Slytherin," Brynne said with a half-smile.

"Never!" said Potter, striking a dramatic pose. "Me? Have my reputation tarnished? I think not!" he replied indignantly.

"Just go Potter, before you get me in trouble," she pleaded, having some difficulty stifling a giggle.

He flashed a grin and pulled the cloak over his head. "That reminds me," he said from under it, "the Weasley twins have their eyes on you."

"They've got nothing," she scoffed, pulling open the door.

"You've got that right! Their evidence was truly something to laugh at!"

"Go you silly git!"

"Fine!" he said laughing.

She listened to his footsteps echo slightly as they receded down the hallway. Satisfied that he was far enough away, she stepped out the door and turned in the direction that would lead her to the Slytherin common room. Just as she turned the corner, she collided with a large dark figure. A hand reached out to steady her, but too late, as her head connected with the cold stone floor with a sickening crack.