Of Silver and Green

Ch. 26 The Unexpected Guest and the Unexpected Offer

When Brynne removed herself from the showers, she found someone waiting for her. She looked at him in shock, nearly dropping her towel in response. "What are you doing here?" she asked quietly. She received no answer, but then, she hadn't really expected one either.

The golden owl considered her, head tilted to one side. He hooted softly and fluttered to her shoulder. He nuzzled her neck gently and offered her his leg. She extracted the letter and said, "Sorry I don't have anything for you here. I'll give you something later."

The owl blinked in response and took flight, exiting the locker room as quietly as he had entered. She smiled at the letter she held, examining the flowing script that adorned the envelope before carefully removing the parchment within.

If I were to love but once

I pray that one love be you

For your love is an abundance of all

It fulfills me in a way none other has

or ever could

For you have given me happiness

You have brought a bright shining light

Of eternal brilliance into my life

I am in awe of you and the wonder you are

For you give when giving seems impossible

You bring joy to my heart when

life has gone astray

Your love comforts me when the world

crumbles down around me

It gives me strength to awake to another day

It is to you that I devote myself willingly

Without remorse forsaking others, 'tis true

For you are the love for which

I have waited a lifetime

Please forgive me for doubting you. I should have known you wouldn't betray me. I am so sorry. ~Love, Draco

Brynne was crying when she finished the poem, her tears dripping on the parchment and smearing the ink. She read the letter again. He was so sweet. If it hadn't been for her prior engagement, she would have run straight to his room and jumped him. However, Draco's letter did much to ease Brynne's mind. She now realized that Draco's anger with her had nothing to do with his father's visit.

As Brynne put on her dress, she noticed a lump in the envelope her letter had been in. She picked it up curiously and emptied the remaining contents into her palm. She stared in shock, gurgling slightly.

She held a small silver ring set with a heart-shaped emerald. This, however, was not the shocking part. What astounded her was the fact that the ring was a claddagh. Not only were they Irish commitment rings, but these types of rings also held a great deal of symbolism. The band was formed of two hands holding the emerald, which was topped with a crown. The hands represented friendship, the crown, loyalty, and the heart...well, the meaning of the heart was self-evident.

Brynne slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand, with the heart pointing towards her. Even how the ring was worn had significance. When the heart pointed towards the wrist, it meant that the wearer's heart belonged to another.

She pulled on her cloak and stuffed the letter inside. She shoved her Quidditch robes into her locker and shut it. Then she hoisted her broom over her shoulder and slowly left the locker room, her footsteps heavy with dread.

Brynne stepped out into the sunlight, squinting against the harsh brightness. A lone figure stood at the center of the Quidditch pitch. She walked over to the person despite the fact that her every instinct was telling her to flee.

She stopped about two feet in front of the man and stood staring at him. He was tall, maybe six feet, and was clad all in black. His eyes were the same colour as Draco's, but somehow, completely different. These eyes held no warmth, no emotion. They were chips of ice set in a face no less severe.

His features were sharp and angular. It did not seem to Brynne as if the owner of this face found it possible to smile. But then, she didn't picture him actually wanting to smile either. His long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, which made his face appear even more sharp and severe than it was, with nothing to frame his face and soften the angles.

Brynne noticed he was holding a cane topped with a snake's head. She stared at it for several minutes and was tempted to ask if she could see it. Then she remembered whom it was she was dealing with and berated herself mentally.

She refocused, looking him in the face, her eyes slightly narrowed. "Mr. Malfoy, I presume?" she asked politely, her voice barely above a whisper. She cringed slightly at the sound of her voice. Showing weakness so soon was not a good thing. She held out her hand, willing it not to shake.

He smirked slightly. "Miss Dharielle. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He took her hand and touched his lips to it briefly. Well, obviously this was where Draco had learned his manners. She could add this one good thing to the host of bad qualities she knew Lucius to possess.

Brynne decided to come straight to the point. "That was it that you wished to speak to me about, sir?"

"Well, when Draco informed me of your," he paused to search for an appropriate word, "involvement, I realized that your name sounded familiar."

'It should,' she thought. 'We're only one of the most influential wizarding families in Ireland.'

"And not only because of your family's standing in the community, of which I am well-aware," Lucius continued smoothly, as though reading her mind. "I was not sure from where I had heard your name, so I asked some of my closer acquaintances and consulted some of the older books of lineages. I was quite surprised by my findings."

"What did you find?" Brynne asked curiously, forgetting her fear.

"I think you'll find it quite interesting. I assume that from the pendant you wear that you are aware that you come from a long line of Parselmouths. Am I correct?"

"Yes..." she replied hesitantly.

"But I would wager that you don't know where the ability originated." She shook her head slowly at this. "I can tell you, if you'd like to know. I received the information from a very reliable source." Brynne nodded slightly.

Lucius smirked sinisterly, which unsettled Brynne to her core. She took several steps back, but he advanced on her for every step she backed away. "You can trace your lineage back to the most famous Parselmouth in history," he began in a low voice. "Your family has traced it back only so far before they reach a dead end. I have completed the genealogy. You are a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin," Lucius stated.

Malfoy's assessment hit Brynne like a train. How could she very well be related to a founder of Hogwarts? All evidence considered, it wasn't so far-fetched an idea. They didn't keep very good records back in those times. All of these revelations came about five minutes later, however, after the initial shock wore off. Her first reaction was something along the lines of, "Lurften?" She kicked herself. 'Very articulate.'

Lucius chuckled slightly. "If that's how you respond to such a small trifle, perhaps you'd better not hear the rest."

"No. Tell me," she said firmly.

"Well, if you're sure," he said teasingly, grey eyes resembling sparkling chips of flint in their deviousness. "I'm quite surprised you haven't realized yourself, actually. As a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, you are also a distant relative of another very famous wizard." He paused briefly, letting this sink in. "You are a distant relative of Lord Voldemort," he clarified.

Brynne dropped her broom and doubled over as the breath left her. She felt as if she was going to be instantly and violently sick. She looked up at Lucius weakly and quailed at the gleeful look in his eyes. He was enjoying her utter confusion and dismay. She whimpered slightly.

"Join us," Lucius commanded, ignoring her sniveling.

"What?" she asked incredulously. "Are you suggesting that I should join Voldemort and the Death-eaters?" she croaked ineloquently. "Never," she stated with more conviction than she had shown all afternoon.

"Join us, or die," he snarled viciously, taking an aggressive step forward.

"I would choose death before I would sink so low as to join such a pathetic group of cowardly wizards," she said in a decidedly Gryffindor fashion. She cringed and chose to disregard how unpleasant and out-of-character this was. "You kill Muggles and Mudbloods, and look at who you are led by! He's a damn Mudblood himself! Are you really so blind as to not see that?!" she asked with a derisive snort that was much more typical of a Slytherin.

Lucius was fuming, and began to turn a completely unflattering shade of pink. His scowl deepened several levels of intensity as well. By the time Lucius regained the ability to form intelligible words, Brynne had lost the burst of courage that had allowed her to insult Lucius Malfoy so blatantly and to his face, and was rightfully terrified.

"I had hoped you would see things my way, but instead of the quick, painless death I had intended if you declined my generous offer, I am afraid I will be forced to subject you to something considerably more painful," he growled. He sneered as she sank to the ground in horror. "And to think that I believed that, with your background, you were a good match for Draco." Brynne winced unconsciously at the mention of his name and stared up at Lucius with wide, frightened eyes.

He pulled his wand from under his robes and pointed it at her. "Accio broomstick," he said evenly. That hadn't been what Brynne was expecting, so when she realized what he was doing and made a grab for the broom, she missed horribly. She looked back up at Lucius and quailed slightly when she noticed the look of grim satisfaction he wore. He leveled his wand at her again. "Crucio," he hissed.

Immediately, Brynne was overtaken by a wave of excruciating pain that penetrated every cell of her body. A bloodcurdling scream was ripped from her body as she writhed in agony. It felt as if white-hot lances were shooting through every part of her, invading her senses. She involuntarily began to curl into a fetal position, still howling with misery, trying to block out the pain coursing through her. It was particularly intense right behind her eyes. They felt as though they were going to explode with the pressure. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, but Brynne couldn't even feel them for the blinding pain.

As suddenly as the torture had started, it ended. All that was left was a dull, throbbing ache and a feeling of utter helplessness. She sprawled out onto her back and moaned, temporarily ignorant of the man standing over her. She heard a malevolent laugh and stared up, bleary-eyed, and Lucius Malfoy, who was, in turn, looking down upon her mockingly. His lips formed a smirk. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to reconsider?" he asked coldly.

"Positive," she gasped.

He shrugged, looking as if he had hoped that would be her answer. "Have it your way." He aimed his wand again. Brynne shut her eyes tightly, not sure whether he was going to torture her more or just kill her. She hoped for the latter, preferring death to the agony she had just endured. She exhaled, just as Lucius began. "Avada..."