Briallen Bevin and the Snatcher's Cave

Chapter 10: Where Danger Lurks

"Oh, my dear! I heard about what happened to you last night! I told Cal he should have had the wall built around the entire north wood!" said a dark, masculine-looking woman from her portrait on Briallen's right.

Briallen had spent all of Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and lunch thinking about her meeting early that afternoon with her grandfather and trying to convince herself that everything would be alright. Yet, here she was, in the sixth floor hallway, wasting time chatting with the portraits of former deans because she was afraid of what her grandfather had to say to her.

"The wall wasn't there before my grandfather came to work here?" asked Briallen as she nervously twiddled her thumbs. She still had ten minutes before she was officially supposed to meet her grandfather.

"Oh, no. Back when I was the Dean, the kids used to play in forest all the time. I remember there being a little cave a bit of the way into the wood - it was a favorite with trysting couples."

Briallen rolled her eyes. "Really. Why did he build a wall around the woods then if there isn't anything dangerous there?"

"I never said there wasn't anything dangerous there," said the masculine woman playfully.

"...Well?"

"Appearances can be deceiving. I never said it wasn't dangerous before the wall was built either."

"You haven't said a lot of things, Professor Ananasi," said Briallen in a clipped tone. "Look at the time, I really have to go or I'm going to be late."

She ignored the former Dean's farewell and walked down the long hallway. Portraits of former Deans covered most of the walls. Their glares made the walk to her grandfather's office all the more intimidating; it was as if they automatically believed you must have done something very bad if you had to see the Dean.

Briallen stopped in front of a portrait of Professor Meyer, Bergamot's very first Dean. Unlike all the other former deans, who were wide awake in their portraits (mostly because they enjoyed gossiping and reminiscing too much to fall asleep), the old man in this portrait was leaning back in a rocking chair enjoying a nap. Briallen coughed politely.

"Hm? What? I'm awake, I'm awake," mumbled Professor Meyer groggily. "Oh, it's you. Go on in."

As the portrait swung inward, Professor Meyer leaned back in his chair once more and Briallen could hear the sound of his light snoring before it had even closed. She walked into her grandfather's office slowly and looked around.

His office had a modern and yet traditional feel to it. The fireplace on the left side of the room crackled pleasantly even though it was still warm outside and the two overstuffed chairs in front of it were placed on either side of a small table that held a tea tray with a tea pot, two cups and a bowl of a cream and a bowl of sugar. All around her were bookcases on which were rows and rows of thick, old leather volumes and occasionally some sort of odd trinket in place of a bookend. Large, stained glass windows flanked the back wall in front of which was a massive dark oak desk.

Briallen walked over to the desk and sat down in the red velvet chair behind it. There were pictures of her mother and father and of her all over the desk, as well as a single black and white picture of a young, smiling woman. Briallen recognized her as her Grandma Bevin, Naomi, who had died when her father was still a little boy. She had never seen a photo of her before but had made her father describe her many times as a child. Then, at night while she was lying in bed and not wanting to go to sleep just yet, she would make up stories about the life she thought Naomi Bevin led before her untimely death. Sometimes Naomi was a former traveling acrobat or a old theatre star and Briallen would promise her grandmother's portrait she would follow in her footsteps and join the circus or take up drama, before forgetting about her promise the very next day.

"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" asked a voice from in front of her. Briallen's eyes shot up and she quickly left the red velvet chair.

"Grandpa! I didn't hear you come in!"

"Yes, well, after being a teacher for so long one begins to tread silently without even trying," said Cal Bevin playfully as he took the photograph of his late wife from Briallen. He smiled fondly at it and ran a finger along the edge of the frame before carefully placing it back in its place on his desk.

"Why haven't you ever shown me a picture of her before?"

"Because this is the only one I have. Your grandmother was rather shy and didn't like being photographed. I still don't know why, though. I always thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But, that was Naomi for you." Cal Bevin walked over to the chairs in front of the fireplace and sat down. "Come sit with me, dear."

Briallen sat in the other chair and looked down at her shoes, preparing herself for a her grandfather's lecture.

"How many lumps of sugar would you like in your tea?"

She looked up to see her grandfather staring at her, waiting for a response. "Um... I don't know... a lot, I guess. I've never had hot tea."

"What?" asked Cal, disbelievingly. "Your father has never made you a nice hot pot of English tea? My son really has become an American." He sighed as he dropped a couple of sugar cubes into Briallen's tea and stirred it with a spoon before carefully handing it to her. "You'll have to come and visit me in my office more often. We can have tea and chat."

"Okay," said Briallen slowly before taking a doubtful sip of her tea. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Grandpa?"

"In a hurry to leave, are you? Just so you know, I have a copy of your schedule and I know you have a free period next."

"I just. - I wanted to, you know - I have Transfiguration homework and I wanted to get it done before dinner is all."

Cal smiled. "How are you liking Bergamot so far?"

"It's fun. It's a lot of work and some of my classes are hard but I like it. It's all so interesting. My favorite class is Spell-Working. I like using my wand."

"Well, that's good news," said Cal, chortling. "Wouldn't be much a witch if you didn't like your wand."

"Am I in trouble, Grandpa?" asked Briallen seriously as she placed her still-full cup of tea on the table.

"No, not necessarily. I am disappointed in you, though. I thought you were smart enough to know not to go wandering off by yourself. There are many dangerous creatures and people and... other things out there."

"But it's dangerous in the school too! Just this morning in Potions this Almerick girl, Tiffany Oseary, she spilled her potion on herself and shrank her feet to the size of eggs! Not to mention, it was just a week ago when I fell a few hundred feet through a window!"

"But you are still safe here! Whatever happens, there are over a dozen qualified witches and wizards here to take care of the students. Ms Oseary's feet are back to normal and your injuries are completely healed. Yes, it can be dangerous inside this school but help is always nearby. When you are alone and in danger, as a young unlearned witch, you stand no chance. Not yet."

"I never said I was in danger last night. And Mr Eldred said that the most dangerous animal he ever saw in the wood was a rabid raccoon."

"What?"

"Mr Eldred doesn't think the wood is dangerous."

"No, you mentioned a rabid raccoon..." Cal leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at his granddaughter. "Mr Eldred said that to Miss. Winsome yesterday afternoon in front of the hedge maze at around noon."

Briallen started to nervously twist the hem of her robes around her fist. "How do you know that?"

"Because Mr Eldred is a good friend and told me. However, he failed to mention you were there... "

"Well," said Briallen nervously. "Okay, fine. I went out there to investigate some stuff and heard some people coming and so I ran into the hedge maze."

"What were you doing that you didn't want to be caught at?"

"I wasn't doing anything wrong!" said Briallen crossly. "I just didn't want to have to talk to Miss Winsome. I really don't like her."

"So you ran into the maze... Mr Eldred says that Miss Winsome went in there to."

"Yeah, well, I didn't see her. I had to go further in so she wouldn't know I listened in on her conversation."

"You seem to be making a habit out of listening in on teachers' conversations."

"No, I just happen to be there is all."

Cal Bevin sipped at his tea and then cleared his throat. "I see. And were you out there investigating the disappearance of Christabel Lewis?"

"Maybe." Briallen crossed her arms and glared defiantly at her grandfather.

"Why would you go out to the north wood's wall? What is over there that you needed to investigate that relates to Ms Lewis?"

"Stuff."

"Briallen," bemoaned Cal Bevin. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"Because you won't listen. You'll just tell me to stop what I'm doing."

"You're correct. We might as well just skip to that part now, right? Just go to class, do your homework and spend time with your friends. Do not worry about Christabel Lewis. We are devoting much of our time and resources to finding her."

"Fine then." Briallen stood up and straightened her robes. "Goodbye, Grandfather."

She could hear her grandfather sigh sadly as she left his office. She walked as quickly as she could down the hallway and to the sixth floor landing.

I hate it when he's like that, thought Briallen as she stomped angrily down the stairs. He makes me feel so useless. And he's right, it's not like I could help them. I'm just going to concentrate on classes and do my homework and hang out with my friends.

Briallen made her way to the library on the second floor. When she reached her favorite study room she dropped her bag on the floor and slid into a chair. She was depressed because Toby was not there like he usually was during their free periods and angry her grandfather patronized her. She decided that the best thing to do to take her mind off of thing would be to do her homework and so she dumped her book-bag out on the table and got to work.

She was so engrossed in writing her essay for Ancient Runes that she did not notice the door open just minutes later or the person who sat down across from her.

"Briallen?"

She recognized the voice but kept on writing. "What do you want, Lucan?"

"Did you hear about that Wenlock girl?"

Briallen snorted. "No, my best friend is a Wenlock but we never actually speak to each other."

"There's no need to be rude. It's not like I keep track of who you spend your time with."

"Oh, please! We have three classes together twice a week and our tables in the dining hall are right next to each other! I've noticed who you hang out with."

"Then tell me their names." He leaned back in his chair and fixed his hair as he waited for an answer.

"That... Chavira boy. And Cora Quinn follows you around like a puppy."

"She does not," said Lucan uncomfortably.

Briallen batted her eyelashes and stared lovingly at Lucan. "Oh, Lucan! You are just so funny, tee hee! Can I sit next to you, pretty please with a cherry on top? Oh, do tell that funny joke again! That one about the goblin and the mermaid!" mimicked Briallen in a high-pitched voice.

"Stop it! She and I happen to have a lot in common. She's just a friend and nothing

more."

"I bet if you asked her to marry you she would jump up and down screaming 'yes, yes, yes!' Oh, I dare you to do it! I double dog dare you!"

Lucan leaned forward suddenly and glared at Briallen. "You and I are not friends and I don't have to do your stupid little dares. I came in here to discuss what we saw last Friday, not to be teased."

"There isn't anything to discuss about last Friday," said Briallen, seriously. "I just spoke with my grandfather. They're looking for Christabel Lewis right now. And Mr Eldred and Professor Motaleb are sure she hasn't been anywhere near the north wood."

"We saw somebody dragging something, Briallen! Don't you think that it's a possibility somebody kidnapped her?"

"Marisol said she was a brat. Who would want to kidnap a brat?"

"She's a rich brat. Maybe one of the poorer kids here thought they could kidnap her and hold her for ransom. I could see Gavin Ellison doing something like that. He practically lives in poverty."

"Gavin wouldn't kidnap anybody! Just forget about what we saw, okay? It was dark anyway and we were scared. Our minds were just playing tricks on us."

"Yes, because I frequently hallucinate strange people dragging things through the woods," mumbled Lucan sarcastically as he pulled out some parchment and a quill.

"What are you doing?" asked Briallen suspiciously.

"I have homework to do too."

"And you have to do it in here with me?"

"This table is large enough for ten people, Briallen."

Briallen sighed, shook her head and went back to writing her Transfiguration essay, ignoring Lucan's presence for the rest of her free period.