Chapter 39 - SURPRISE! SURPRISE! SURPRISE! or The King of Mirkygreen
Tel¡¯ Lindar 39/?
SURPRISE! SURPRISE! SURPRISE! Or The King of Mirkygreen
~*~
She was late.
Of course, she was late, she was always late, always tripping down her steps, hopping in to her shoes. She fell once some months back, bouncing down on her arse, both feet in the air.
Severus rolled his eyes and muttering her password under his breath, stole through the door.
¡°Bronwyn. We will be late for breakfast. I will not wait on you.¡±
He heard sputters of outrage from up the stairs. Bronwyn was put out.
She wasn¡¯t just *put out*; she was miffed, miffed severely and put out.
¡°±õ³¦²¹²Ô´Ú¾±²Ô³¾³Ü³ó²õ³ó±ð·É²õ!¡±
Severus stood at the foot of the stairs, finger tapping impatiently on the banister. ¡°I cannot hear you.¡±
There was lively cursing in some forgotten language.
¡°I. Am. In. The. Closet! Because. I. Can¡¯t. Find. My. Shoes!¡±
Severus rolled his eyes and slowly climbed the stairs. ¡°If you were better organized, you would not have this problem.¡±
¡°I am organized with my clothing, you dingleberry!¡± She stuck her head out of the closet just as he entered the room. ¡°I left them right here when I took them off!¡± She thrust an accusatory finger towards a spot on the floor.
Severus strode into the small, enclosed room, seeing a well-organized closet. He looked in the floor. ¡°Here,¡± he pointed to a single pair of black high heeled boots. ¡°Shoes. Put them on.¡± He turned from the doorway.
¡°Hmmm¡ that¡¯s not the pair I¡¯m looking for.¡±
He arched an eyebrow, taking in her black woolen trousers and black turtleneck. ¡°They match fine. Put them on.¡±
¡°Severus! They are high heels! I can¡¯t wear heels all day! Where the hell are my flats?¡±
¡°I do not know and I do not care. Now let¡ wait¡¡± he spun around the room. ¡°Where is your beastie?¡±
Bronwyn came out of the wardrobe and looked. ¡°He¡¯s here somewhere. Why?¡±
The Potions Master pointed towards the bed, close to the headboard, the tip of a white tail could be seen flicking dangerously back and forth. Bronwyn dropped down on all fours and peered under the foot of the bed.
Sure enough, every pair of flat shoe that Bronwyn owned was piled under the head of her bed, against the wall, Amadeus guarding them by laying between her and the footwear.
¡°Fun time¡¯s over, pal! Cough up the shoes!¡± She started to crawl under, giving Severus a delectable view of her rear end. Amadeus whined once and then began to growl and snap, baring his teeth, shocking not only Bronwyn, but Severus as well. The wolf would rather die than harm his wife and to hear him yip at her in such a testy manner¡
Dog, growling at your mistress! I just might get lucky tonight!
¡something was wrong. Perhaps the beast had come down with distemper while roaming the forest with Remus.
¡°Bronwyn, come out from under the bed,¡± Severus snapped tersely. He bent down and patted her on the bum, just to make his point.
She came out from under the bed, sneezing and looking confused. ¡°He has all my shoes, but the boots and he¡¯s growling at me. At ME!¡± She looked downcast. ¡°Maybe you can get them?¡±
Severus handed her his teaching robe and stooped down, pulling up the bedskirt. Glowing eyes and gleaming white teeth greeted him. Removing his wand, he muttered ¡®lumos¡¯, lighting up the dark recess under the bed. Sure enough, every shoe she owned lay behind the wolf, and Amadeus bared his teeth further, growling menacingly.
Listen carefully, you cur. I know you can hear my thoughts because they are aimed at you.
Amadeus growled again.
Is there a particular reason you want her to wear the heels? Growl once.
One growl.
Does it have anything to do with the fact that her in heels turns you on?
No growl, but eyes narrowed and the wolf lunged at the Wizard¡¯s wand. Severus pulled it towards him, finding himself uncomfortably nose to nose with the canine.
Is it pertinent to her well-being that she wear the heels?
One growl.
Severus groaned inwardly and slumped.
Very well. Listen carefully¡
Severus crawled backward, recasing his wand. He stood up, straightening his clothes and reached for his robe. ¡°Madam, your beast has drooled, slobbered, and chewed on every shoe under the bed. No doubt he¡¯s ashamed of his atrocious behavior. If the weather lets up, you and I will have to go into London and purchase new footwear. In the meantime, you will have to make do with the heels.¡±
¡°I can¡¯t wear heels all day! They hurt my feet!¡± She glared at the bed and kicked petulantly at the footboard. ¡°OW! I¡¯m not that young anymore you¡ you¡ you¡ dammit!¡±
¡°Then I suppose I will have to concoct a cream for you to rub on them in the evening.¡± He rubbed his thumb over his fingertips. ¡°Of course, for a boon, I could be¡ persuaded¡ to do it for you.¡±
Black eyes looked into hers, glittering, smoldering¡
Growling and snapping from under the bed.
¡°AMADEUS! I can¡¯t believe you would do this! Of all the days-¡°
Ah! Finally the mutt was lowered in her eyes.
Bronwyn continued to rant, German, French, something¡ Elfy. Bronwyn marched from one side of the room to the other, arms akimbo, swearing ¨C truly it had to be swearing, the way she was punctuating each consonant ¨C
More snapping, sharp teeth coming from under the bed and aiming at the many buttons on the Wizard¡¯s trouser cuffs.
¡°Amadeus, hush! This is all your fault!¡± she shouted at the were beast. ¡°For a price? Perhaps we could negotiate!¡± She went into the closet and proceeded to pull on the boots.
Severus waited until her task was completed, before extending his hand to her. ¡°Every¡ position is always negotiable, Bronwyn.¡±
Bronwyn took the proffered hand and smirked at him.
¡°Hmmm mmm.¡±
~*~
It¡¯s not even ten in the morning and already I¡¯ve pinched a bruise on my nose and have a headache. And I¡¯ve not even had a drink yet!¡±
Cornelius Fudge forced his hand from that wounded appendage and glared at the cause of his pain. Lucius Malfoy was dressed as if he had never spent a moment in Azkaban, as if he had never spent a single knut to buy his family name back, as well as hadn¡¯t damn near wasted his son¡¯s inheritance to chase glory.
The cause of his ire was muttering.
¡°We¡¯ll catch her. Walk in and prove she¡¯s shirking her-¡±
¡°Lucius,¡± The Minister sighed, ¡°if you would be just a bit patient-¡±
¡°Patient?¡± Malfoy spat. ¡°If you think I¡¯m going to wait until she¡¯s killed half the school¡¡±
The twosome stepped into the cold air, the heat and warmth from Rosemerta¡¯s disappearing behind them. Unconsciously, Cornelius yearned for the heat of the fire and dreamed wistfully of warmer climes.
¡°I cannot believe you would brush aside her escapade from last week.¡±
Cornelius was losing patience. ¡°An unsubstantiated rumor, Lucius.¡± He hailed a carriage.
¡°Unsubstantiated?¡± The Minister of Magic was halted in his snowtracks, an angry Malfoy scant inches from his face. ¡°Snape and Lupin charging through the halls, commandeering brooms from children-¡±
Fudge bit his tongue to keep from reminding Malfoy his son was no child.
¡°- with her dog¡ remind me again Cornelius, why is she allowed a dog?¡±
Cornelius opened his mouth to answer, but the angry Wizard cut him off.
¡°Do not give me that bullshite about familiars and pets and she was attached to him after her husband¡¯s death.¡± Fudge found himself staring down Malfoy¡¯s leather gloved finger. ¡°Too many concessions have been made for Professor Powell!¡± The carriage pulled up and the man fell quiet as they hauled themselves in. ¡°After confiscating brooms from students, they returned, muddy, obviously hexed to remove moisture from their clothing. Harry Potter, damn him to hell, was as pale as a ghost and refused to divulge what happened to even his friends!¡± Cornelius found the snakehead of Lucius¡¯ cane shoved into his face. ¡°She is up to something, as is Snape, and I¡¯m determined to find out what it is!¡±
For a moment, there was silence as both men bobbed gently within the carriage. Fudge continued to dream of heat, beaches, scantily clad witches¡
¡°She has no sense of propriety!¡± The short silence was broken by Lucius¡¯ obviously continuing tirade. ¡°She has no idea who she insulted!¡±
¡°Which is why we¡¯re on this joyride,¡± Cornelius muttered under his breath, wiping his quickly reddening nose with a handkerchief.
¡°What did you say?¡± Lucius was leaning forward, looking at him curiously.
¡°Nothing, Lucius.¡± Fudge continued to wipe at his nose with the linen square. ¡°My nose hurts, that's all.¡± The angry Wizard continued to scrutinize him, making the Minister very uncomfortable. ¡°I hate public transportation. It¡¯s not my idea of a joyride!¡±
Temporarily placated, Lucius wrinkled his nose and settled back in the coach. He stared out the window, snow flurries flying, hypnotizing.
Fudge breathed in a sigh of relief. Lucius was becoming more and more difficult by the day. One would think his almost downfall would have humbled the man, but if anything, it made him worse, more demanding. He was particularly hard-nosed when it came to Bronwyn.
Truth was, all reports, all observations, were impeccable. She was the consummate teacher. She was liked by her peers and by most of her students. Her colleagues spoke well of her; Dumbledore was enchanted with her vast store of knowledge.
There was that unusual snowball fight¡
Fudge shrugged mentally. Teaching children was out of his sphere, he couldn¡¯t imagine dealing with a small person. Send them to him when they were grown and fully versed in magical skills¡ and capable of conversing in proper English. Staring out the window, watching the snow swirl, he remembered he had a niece he couldn¡¯t tolerate when she was a drippy nosed tot. Luckily, he hardly spoke to his sister, seeing her and her family rarely. Being Minister of Magic kept one busy and the last time he had spent time with her, he was relieved to find the chit had grown into a rather decent adult and found him boring and a fuddy duddy. He breathed a sigh of relief when she announced that she wouldn¡¯t stoop so low as to ask him for a reference.
Professor Powell had publicly humiliated Lucius Malfoy and now the Wizard was out for Muggle blood. Deep inside, Cornelius hoped she would do it again, so he could watch and gloat about the scene in his old age.
~*~
Your conversation never sticks
¡®Cuz no truth in you exists¡
~*~
The tall figure watched disinterestedly as his luggage was removed from the train. How the Man was managing was beyond him, not that he cared. The day ¨C to - day struggles of Men interested him not in the least. He looked around the stage area, again marveling at the ingenuity of Men and Wizar¡
Gah! The very word ¡®Wizard¡¯ stuck in his craw. These¡ backward¡ uneducated¡ Humans had no idea the true meaning of the word ¡®wizard¡¯ and he imagined the concept of ¡®Istari¡¯ would be completely lost on then. Spawn of Elrond or not, they were insects compared to the lineage they had come from.
On more than a dozen occasions over the past two years, he had the pleasure of over-hearing his long ¨C lost brethren speaking in tongues he¡¯d not had the pleasure of hearing, much less speaking himself for over a millennia. The Twins spoke whatever language of the land they were currently residing in, not seeming to care for the language of their ancestors. For the first time in almost as long, he found himself thinking, whispering out-loud that beautiful language of his youth.
Around the side of the depot, he saw a stagecoach rumbling by. Despite the noise of the train, he could clearly hear the argument going on inside.
¡°If she is sleeping with him-¡±
¡°She may sleep with whomever she desires! As long as it¡¯s not in front of the chil-¡±
He chuckled to himself. Perhaps when this business was completed, he would find this elusive ¡®she¡¯ and enjoy himself one last time, before finding where the Grey Havens were hidden and persuade Cirdan to make yet another trip.
So few of his kind were left. So many that stayed behind had faded and were now more than likely reborn and wandering the land of their fea.
For not the first time today, he wondered about his children, long since gone over¡
He snapped from his reverie and mentally shook himself from his escalating doldrums. He turned to the conductor.
¡°How much longer?¡± He pointed to his growing stack of luggage.
The man tipped his cap in a differential manner. ¡°Not long sir. If you don¡¯t not wish to wait, simply tell me where you wish them taken.¡±
He hesitated a moment. A hot drink would appease his impatience for a time. He was certain he could find an open establishment quickly.
¡°Take them to Hogwarts.¡±
~*~
¡°Professor Powell?¡±
Bronwyn looked down at the papers on her desk. Deftly, she stacked them neatly and placed them in a file folder in her drawer. ¡°Don¡¯t let me forget those,¡± she whispered to Amadeus. ¡°Hell will pay if I forget the Fourth Years Essays are stored away in a drawer!¡±
The wolf smirked.
¡°Professor Powell?¡±
She glanced up at the diminutive girl in front of her desk. ¡°Yes, Garundeve?¡±
The 11 year old gestured to the scaffolding behind her. ¡°I¡¯m still confused. What are we doing?¡± She then gestured to the white robes she and her classmates were wearing. Bronwyn noticed the entire class was watching her with piqued interest.
Bronwyn gestured to the paints and brushes sitting on a table to the side of the room. ¡°Well, I thought it obvious. We¡¯re painting.¡±
¡°Painting what?¡±
Bronwyn smiled slowly.
¡°The ceiling. What do you remember of your reading of Michelangelo?¡±
~*~
The Potions Master stopped in mid-tirade, fingers spread in a spider-like fashion. His mouth almost became unhinged.
She is agitated.
In a fell swoop, Bronwyn shifted from an almost forgettable presence in the back of his mind, to in the forefront, causing the inescapable migraine to rage like an inferno.
Hermione Granger stared back, completely nonplussed.
¡°³§¾±°ù?¡±
Severus straightened up and finished the coiling of his fingers in his robe sleeves.
She is beyond agitated. She is quite furious.
¡°Continue in this fashion and you will set fire to your hair, Miss Granger. I suggest you begin again.¡±
¡°Sir, if I begin again, I cannot complete it. If you would tell me what you¡¯ve found amiss-¡±
She has her First Years at this time. She dotes on the little blighters worse than a mother hen. What on earth could they have done to infuriate her?
¡°Suit yourself.¡± Severus glided to the classroom door and opened it. ¡°Malfoy, why did you not say anything about the oppressive heat in the back of the room?¡±
Draco grinned maliciously. ¡°I was too busy watching Granger muck up her potion.¡± There was a pause, long enough for the girl¡¯s gasp of indignation to float on the air. ¡°Sir.¡±
The Dark Professor leaned against the door frame and appeared to peruse the hallway. Her door across the hall and he could see the backs of Fudge and ¨C
Hmmmmm
Snape shut the door quietly. ¡°Malfoy. Were you expecting your father?¡±
From the set of the teen¡¯s shoulders, Snape could tell he was grinning. ¡°No.¡±
Liar.
Snape moved to the front of the room, taking care to make sure his desk was arranged just so and his lesson plans were in the top basket of his organizer, arranged to be seen perfectly.
~*~
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Bronwyn breathed a huge sigh of relief. All of her official observations complete, she was shocked and peeved to her teeth to see that Twit and Pompous Arse saunter into her room, looking for inadequacies.
As if they actually knew what they were doing. Had I wanted, I could have taught sandbox castle architecture and they would have thought I was teaching aerodynamics!
Hmmm¡ now there would be an interesting lesson to plan¡
Lucius asked stupid questions, designed to confuse and humiliate her students. To her great pride, none of them had failed her, answering in complete and logical sentences exactly what they were doing ¨C painting historical scenes from Hogwarts on the ceiling of her room ¨C to what it pertained to ¨C comparisons to the Sistine Chapel Ceiling paintings by Michelangelo.
Oliver had shown him the sketches the Sixth and Seventh Years had done, in conjunction with their studies of History of Magic and explained how the Third and Fourth years laid and sketched them on the ceiling. It was the job of the First and Second Years to paint them in.
¡°Making a wretched mess in process,¡± Lucius mumbled, not so quietly.
Fudge smiled humorlessly. It had been obvious to all he¡¯d rather be anywhere else!
Garundeve had done her professor proud when she stared over the two pompous officials and not only told them how it pertained to their studies, but also gave them the scroll and and specific Teaching Standard Unit as dictated by the Educational Department of the Ministry of Magic.
It was, after all, public record and before classes started, she and her Muggle parents accessed the information, in order to be more informed as to what she was expected to learn.
Lovely. Bronwyn could imagine Malfoy¡¯s thoughts. Another Hermione Granger!
The Wizard turned his malicious stare on the Professor. ¡°Did it ever occur to you, that it might be more¡ prudent¡ to just tell them the information they need to know?¡±
Bronwyn didn¡¯t even take the time to mull. ¡°It is proven by many studies that children are better learners when they learn hands on. One can read and read, but once the test is over, or they have moved away from the subject material, it is lost in their mental filing cabinet, much like a small piece of paper. However, if one actually recreates or participates as fully as possible, it becomes a action, and easier to access than the small sticky.¡±
She smiled oh so not very sweetly.
¡°I suppose these are Muggle Studies?¡±
Bronwyn started to retort, ¡®Children are children and elflings are children,¡¯ but she continued to smile. ¡°A few years back, you attempted to book teach Defense against the Dark Arts. It was a complete failure as I recall.¡± She turned her back on the twosome and walked around the back of the scaffolding. ¡°Penelope, you¡¯ve got much too much-¡± a bright glob of forest green paint fell from the offending brush and plopped on the shoulder of Bronwyn¡¯s black turtleneck.
The class gasped, eyes darting from Professor to Magic of Ministry Officials.
¡°Professor Powell, I¡¯m so sorry, I-¡±
¡°I should learn to wear a smock as well, I suppose, Penelope.¡± Bronwyn smiled up. ¡°Still, I would watch how much paint is on the brush.¡± She continued to her desk and grabbed a damp cloth. She began to wipe as much of the goo as she could from her shirt. ¡°I¡¯m sure one of the Professors can fix this, so don¡¯t worry. She made her way back to the two Wizards. ¡°I also was informed that several students took it upon themselves to practice what was being preached to them.¡± She started at Malfoy. ¡°It was a good thing they did. I can¡¯t imagine attempting to learn without hands on experience. It would be like trying to book learn to drive a car, fly on a broom, or ¡ what is the word¡Arapparate?¡± She nodded in a deferential manner, keeping herself stiff. ¡°Gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I have a class to teach.¡±
And with that, she spun on her heel and proceeded to climb the scaffolding. Fudge eyes followed her up, enjoying the view. ¡°This is quite wonderful. Can someone tell me what this scene depicts?¡±
For a moment, Bronwyn wondered what had prompted the surprise observation. Probably that attack the other day. Noticed they didn¡¯t ask if Harry was okay. Rat Bastards.
Bronwyn didn¡¯t know when the two left and didn¡¯t care. She had more important things to do than entertain two panty-wipes.
~*~
The wind was howling unmercifully and both Malfoy and Fudge were not looking forward to the ride back into Hogsmeade. The trip had been horrendous with snow pelting down in great wet globs and from the sounds, it was obvious the storm had worsened during their time spent in the dungeons.
"Lucius, I realize you feel she is unqualified..."
"She is not qualified in the least! She is a Muggle and she has no business teaching magical children!" Lucius' voice, while calm and quiet, had the bite of anger.
Fudge pinched his nose in ire. Headaches were a common occurrence anymore and not for the first time in recent weeks, the thought of retiring from public service when this term was up was looking sweeter and sweeter. No one knew his wife¡¯s little shopping excursions were really home shopping trips in Fiji and Hawaii¡ the Bahamas. So what if Weasley became next Minster of Magic? Let him deal with this arrogant, over-bearing...
"Cornelius! Are you paying attention?" Lucius' cane rapped smartly on the floor. "I did not donate large sums of galleons to this school or your campaign fund, for that matter, to see this school over run by insolent Muggles or prissy¡ Elves."
"Lucius!" Fudge attempted to pacify the powerful Wizard. "Her methods are admittedly, unusual and¡ unorthodox, however, might I remind you that she has very high-placed friends and she seems to be doing a fine job. She has been observed by several high-ranking professors - including Professor Snape and all have given her high marks. However," he raised his hand to ward off Lucius pending outburst, "however, the Fifth and Seventh years have not taken their OWLS and NEWTS. We should be patient and see how those marks come back." The Minister of Magic grinned knowingly. "It would be a shame if a large percentage of students failed them. The Ministry would be forced to intervene and make certain adjustments and of course, the professor in question would come under great scrutiny."
¡°That is all well and good, Cornelius," Lucius hissed, "but is there nothing you can do NOW? She and Snape are sleeping together!"
"If any one catches them in class or in public hallways, that is one thing. If it is after hours, and they are not on duty and in his or her private chambers, there is nothing we can do. They are hired by the Ministry of Magic and the school Board of Governors, but they are allowed a private life." He went back to pinching his nose. Retirement on the beach, far from this¡ soap opera was looking better and better each and every second. "Malfoy! Do you wish to tangle with Lord Elrond, Lord Celeborn, or Gandalf? Hmm?" He waited for a moment for those words to sink in. "I thought not.¡± He turned and headed to the large entryway. ¡°Besides, it could be worse!"
"How could it possibly be worse?" The rap of Malfoy¡¯s cane was as annoying as hiss of his voice.
"Rumor has it there was another powerful Elven lord who did not return to Valinor, The King of Greenmirk or Mirkygreen or something or other. They say he was a ruthless negotiator." He patted the taller Wizard on the shoulder. "Cheer up and be patient. Give it time. They both will hang themselves eventu-"
There was a groaning and screeching of large hinges as the great doors opened into the grand hallway. A tall fur-shrouded figure appeared in the blizzard and made his way into the Grand Hall. He walked up to the two Wizards and began to slap the snow from the arctic White Fox fur of his coat, liberally dusting the two Wizards with the powder.
"Do you mind?" Lucius spat. "You are making a horrible mess!"
He found himself caught in the baleful stare of eyes the color of the spring forest, greener than he had ever seen. Slowly, the figure removed his cap, shaking loose long golden tresses and exposing...
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~*~
Yeah, you bite before you lick¡
~*~
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...two perfectly pointed ears.
The green eyes looked Malfoy up and down. "You are?"
"Lucius Malfoy," the Wizard preened.
Eyes flicked over the well-dressed form of Lucius and apparently found him lacking. He moved to the Minister of Magic.
"And you?"
The Minister bowed deeply, causing Malfoy to snort and smirk. "Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, at your service. I did not catch your name?"
"I did not give it," the Elf regally stated. His eyebrows rose, looking over Fudge's shoulder. The two Wizards turned to see Dumbledore, making his way up from the dungeon. "And you are?"
"Ah. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. What can I do to help you, kind sir?"
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~*~
I love it ¡®cuz you¡¯re such a-
~*~
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The Elf proceeded to remove his heavy snow-laden coat. "I am Thranduil, son of Oropher, father of Legolas, King of the Greenwood. I am looking for Tel' Lindar. I was told she resides,¡± and with this, he looked around the castle and sneered in distaste. ¡°- here?"
Albus smiled and bowed to the Elven King. "We are honored by your presence, my lord. Please accept our humble hospitality. I am sure Bronwyn will be delighted to see you. Would you care to follow me?" The aging Wizard turned and began to head back down the stairs.
Thranduil started to follow him, but stopped and stepped back in front of Malfoy. Unceremoniously, he thrust his hat and wet coat at the horrified Wizard. "Here. Take my things to my rooms. That includes the luggage!" he then turned and followed Albus down the stairs.
Leaving Malfoy holding soggy outer garments and staring at the no less than fifteen trunks, sitting in a growing puddle of water.
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~*~
¡±Ê°ù¾±³¦°ì
Vent
Collective Soul
~*~
