NINETEEN BRIAR

(HER SPINDLE WHEEL...?)

♡

       BRIAR. FORGET THE SURNAME, the one she was born with and the one she was forced into. Forget all of that, all of the family difficulties, everything other than this — Briar, the Seer, the werewolf, the golden girl.

       The thing is, when she's talked about — and people talk about her, you don't rock up to your old school without people talking... you don't live life like Briar without people talking, really — it's never with a surname attached, is it? It's only Briar. You know who the person's talking about. There's no other Briar. Sure, it's partly to do with the uncommon name, but still. There's no other person quite like Briar.

       Most of the school view her as the same golden girl as her grandpa did, as her dad does, as her brother, her godfather — even her boyfriend looks at her as if there's nothing wrong with her. Everyone seems to be under a spell she never meant to cast, a spell that just happened, sometime between the day her freckles blossomed and her hair became a light honey blonde and her smile made her look as if nothing could disrupt her charm.

       Briar, the Seer, the werewolf...

       ... The person who's figured out that Barty Crouch is posing as Mad-Eye Moody, she realises, after the spell of the full moon was forced to end. And now she has it. She knows. But what can she do with it, since he's already threatened her and her loved ones' lives?

♡

       IT'S A WARM DAY IN MARCH when Harry finally manages to speak to Holly — or, at least, for him, it's finally, for Holly, it's for fuck's sakes, if only Crabbe moved a little quicker! Today's a special day, because today marks two a month since they last spoke... Also a month since Holly last spoke to her mother, who ran her fingers through Holly's hair as she explained the plan, and Holly's part in it, and Holly had stood up, shook her head, and said, "I don't like this, Mother."

       "Tough," her mother had said.

       "I'm not doing it!" she had said back to her.

       And then her mother had stepped closer to her, as if to scare her. Holly's ears ring with the words of her old Dark Arts professor, from Durmstrang: "Do you not have the stomach for this, Miss Malfoy?" Hell fucking yeah she does.

       "You will do as I say," Margo said.

       And Holly had looked up at her, standing her ground. "Try me, Mother."

       Which has led to this. Pansy's been describing this as "The Potter Purge," because ever since she found out at Christmas that Holly was friends with him, she wasn't impressed. Not annoyed enough to, like, disown Holly, but she wasn't impressed, to say the least... But, Pansy can tell that Holly feels bad for ignoring someone she had been close to, which is why Pansy came up with this brilliant plan, to really hit the final nail in the Potter coffin.

       And this led to the two girls, plus Draco, talking to Rita Skeeter.

       ... OK, Holly isn't proud, but she was desperate. Besides, apparently the journalist fawned over her mother when they were in school and that was enough for Holly to get her on board with writing this totally truthful article. Like, look, Holly hasn't learnt the normal skills a mother teaches a daughter — how to tie your shoelaces, how to deal with homesickness — but you know what she has learnt? How to destroy someone emotionally.

       So: here we are. Ten past twelve, a quick walk away from the best cheese sandwiches known to man, and a very pissed off Harry Potter looking at Holly. Sweet.

       "What's this, then?" he says, holding a copy of the Prophet.

       Holly shrugs. "A newspaper," she says, trying to be nonchalant. She knows why he's so angry, because she would be, too. Pansy said everything, Holly just went along with it. She knows it's bad of her, but if Harry hates her, then there's no way he'll be lured to the graveyard in the summer... It just sucks, having to get Hermione involved in this... (Holly feels terrible, OK?)

       "So first you ignore me, and now this?" says Harry. "I thought we were friends."

       It hurts her, saying this. "Well, that's what you thought."

       Harry frowns. "What?"

       "We have no right being friends, it makes no sense," says Holly, crossing her arms as she starts to walk away. "Just leave me alone, all right?"

       Please, she thinks. She hears Harry protest, but she ignores it, as she walks towards the hall for lunch. Her heart is pounding and she feels close to tears, but she had to do it. This is for his own good. She shouldn't have let it get to this place, anyway, but at least she can try and fix this, as much as she can...

♡

       THIS IS HOW BRIAR REMEMBERED.

       It's a dreary day in May, raindrops covering the blossoming flowers dotted across the castle grounds, when Briar walks up to her old school. She's been given permission to stop wearing her light-blue blazer, but since the weather's been shocking over the past couple of days, Briar's been using it anyway, draping it over her head mostly, to stop her hair getting wet and her mascara smearing underneath her eyes. Sure, her boyfriend's said that he wouldn't care what she looked like, but Briar cares, and heaven knows how long she spends, curling her eyelashes, putting fuckin' Vaseline on them to make them grow. It's a whole process. She isn't ruining her own hard work and what she likes to call "Self-Esteem Boosts." Face masks fall underneath this, too. And drinking lots of water. The best you starts from within!

       But anyway — she's walking up to the school, her brows furrowed slightly, as she thinks to herself. For the past couple months — ever since she decided she will find out the vision that freaked her out during the second task — she's been using all of her spare time to gaze into her crystal ball, deal her tarot cards, stare into a black mirror in hopes that the future will come back to her. Every so often she goes the opposite way, and instead she sees her mother, or her father, or even a younger Madame Maxime, but she still hasn't realised what she predicted, at the second task.

       She's going to remember, though.

       Briar knows there's no way for her to be able to, but she's going to. She will make it happen, even if it's just sheer determination driving it. She's told Madame Maxime, that she had a weird vision, and even her headmistress doesn't think she'll be able to find out what she saw, but Briar won't stop until she remembers.

       Because here's the thing: Briar was fucking terrified, because of what she predicted. So scared that her hands were shaking, she felt sick, when the twins found her again she didn't just hug Fred, oh no, she practically clung to his arm. She remembers how scared she was — the twins and Fleur definitely remember that, too, they're still unnerved by it — but she doesn't know why... But she will. In due time.

       Maybe, it'll just hit her. She'll be sitting there, in her dorm room, playing with one of Sergeant's chew toys, and she'll be like, oh shit, that's it! That's what I saw! But that's yet to happen. Briar hopes it'll come soon, though. It takes a lot being this desperately hopeful, this dreadfully worried.

       Another day rolls into another, and she still doesn't know. By the time the weekend arrives, along with the sunshine, Briar is close to snapping. Why is it, that every time she doesn't want a vision, she gets ten, but when she wants one, it doesn't fucking show up? She doesn't want much. Just to know one thing — not even to know something, to remember something she did know. She just wants to remember something, for fuck's sakes, why can't the universe throw her this bone?

       She sits out in the grounds with Fred, George, Lee, and Sergeant, now that the sky's cleared up. Fleur's busy with Maxime, getting extra tuition to help with the final task next month, so Briar gets to spend time with her old group of friends... Which would be a lot nicer if Briar didn't feel as if a rain cloud was following her around, constantly smearing her mascara and fucking with her hair.

       Fred rests his head on Briar's lap, and she, George, and Lee take turns throwing a tennis ball for Sergeant to catch. Every so often Fred joins in, but Briar thinks he's enjoying lying in her lap too much to actually move and risk it. Dork.

       "So what's happening in the summer, then?" says Lee. Briar knows he's trying to distract her from the cloud over her head, which she appreciates... But she can't help it. She'll think about something else (i.e. her eyelashes being longer) and a split second later she thinks, shit, did I remember? Nope!

       "There's Briar's birthday," says Fred.

       George gives his twin a look. Like, a look. A judgemental one.

       Briar smiles softly. (Then she thinks: Did I remember?)

       "Dad says I can have a proper party, and everything," says Briar, cheering up a little bit, even if it's only for a second. She hopes she remembers by her birthday, because she's been really looking forward to it. The twins and Lee are seventeen now, they can Apparate... They can't do it in school, sure, but they can, and Briar can't. Plus, her dad's agreed to a party, which again, excites Briar. She's gonna get such a nice dress, and have the best playlist ever. It's gonna be amazing. "I'm gonna invite some people from Beauxbatons, some from Hogwarts... If you guys have any suggestions—"

       "Someone fit and interested in me," says Lee.

       George snorts. "Briar's not a miracle worker."

       Lee puts a hand on his heart, his mouth opening.

       Briar laughs. (Then she thinks: Did I remember?)

       "Humans don't see the beauty of angels, Lee," says Briar with a wink. "George just doesn't get it."

       Lee grins at her. "He's just jealous of my handsomeness."

       "What can I say," says Fred, still incredibly smug from how he's sitting. "I took all the good-looking genes."

       Lee scoffs. "At least Briar's happy."

       George starts to laugh, as does Briar.

       (Then she thinks: Did I remember?)

       "There's a girl in my Fine Arts class that I can see you with," says Briar, and she motions towards where her inner eye's supposed to be. Lee looks pleased with himself. "She's really nice, actually. I think her dad's the French Minister of Magic."

       "Oooh," says Lee.

       Briar grins.

       (Then she thinks: Did I remember?)

       Cedric and Mia walk past them; Cedric says hello to them, and Mia smiles at Briar, before the two of them continue walking, further towards the lake. Both Fred and George roll their eyes once they're gone, and Briar gives them looks, forcing Fred's head off of her lap. He looks at her, placing a hand on his heart.

       "You were shitty to her best friend, does it seriously matter?" says Briar.

       "Still matters to her," says George with a shrug.

       "Uh, yeah, but that makes sense," says Briar. "You were the ones in the wrong in the first place!"

       Lee shrugs. "I think she's all right."

      "Yeah, well," says Fred, a little grumpily.

       "We don't," says George.

       Briar rolls her eyes. (Then she thinks: Did I remember?)

       Lee grimaces. "I would like to add, fuck you, you two—" He gestures to the twins. "—for ruining my daydream about Briar's birthday party. I have nothing to do with your dislike for Mia Black, and yet here I am, being affected by it."

       Briar smiles. "It just makes things worse, doesn't it?"

       Lee nods. "It really does."

       "All right, all right," says Fred, sitting up straight. "Until Gryffindor beat Hufflepuff, we won't drop it." He turns to George. "That seem fair?"

       "I think it does, yeah," says George.

       Briar raises an eyebrow, as does Lee.

       "... Cedric might take a break from Quidditch next year, maybe, because of the tournament," says Lee. "He might wanna have a breather before exams start."

       "Your point?" says George.

       Briar and Lee exchange a look, before deciding to leave it for another day.

       (Then she thinks: Did I remember?)

       They go back to talking about other things — Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, mostly. For a few minutes they go off on a tangent about the best way to carry on the business, and decide that by the start of next year, they'll make sure they've got enough products to take some to school to sell, and to give Briar some, to see if they sell at Beauxbatons too. They also mention how they're going to trial more products, considering Mrs Weasley still isn't on board with the whole thing, but in the end they shrug it off, and go, We'll sort that out when we need to, which really, is the best way to sum up their entire friendship group.

       When it gets to five o'clock they leave the grounds to get dinner, and afterwards Fred walks Briar back to the carriage, since she wants to see Fleur, and to use her crystal ball again. Briar holds Fred's hand, swinging their arms a little. "You know what would be fun?" says Briar, and she glances up at him. "In the summer, I should read your palm. And I can do your tarot cards. It'll be fun!"

       "I thought you didn't want to see my future," says Fred.

       "I don't," says Briar. "But I'd argue that tarots and palms don't show shit. Just suggest what could happen, but nothing too big... I'm only using them now because I'm desperate."

     "You know, it's not the end of the world, that you don't remember that vision," says Fred. Briar frowns. She highly disagrees. She also thinks: Did I remember? "I get that it scared you, but is it really worth all of this?"

       "It might be," says Briar. She's starting to doubt herself, though, because he raises a good question. Is it worth it?

       "I... don't like to see you worried, and you've been worrying a lot lately."

       Briar stops walking, and she turns to Fred, smiling softly. "I think you're right," she says softly, and she sighs. "I just... What if it turns out to be something bad? And someone gets hurt?"

       "It's not your job to fix it, Bri," says Fred.

       Briar sighs. "I suppose..." she says, and she looks up at him. "Thanks."

       "It's what I'm here for," says Fred.

       He leans down and kisses her, holding her face in his hands. Briar rests her hands on his chest, and as they pull a part, she smiles up at him. "I'm gonna miss you, next year," she says.

       "Me too," he says. "But we've still got the weekends, and we'll both be able to Apparate, won't we? We'll manage." He pauses. "What are thinking of doing after school?"

       Briar shrugs. "Still figuring that one out."

       "If you stay in the UK for it, then we can see each other all of the time," says Fred, and he takes his hands off of her, instead wrapping his arms around her waist. Briar fuckin' loves him, shit. "I reckon you're gonna hate me by the time we're out of school."

       Briar laughs, and she shakes her head. "I'm gonna be honest, Freddie, if I've gone this far without wanting to kill you, I think we're good forever."

       Fred gives her a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

       She raises an eyebrow. "You know, Freddie."

       They continue walking again, after a while, and she kisses him goodbye before she goes up into the carriage. No one's in the living area, everyone still taking advantage of the warm summer that's managed to find it's way up to Scotland. Briar closes the door behind her, but then she catches Livvy and Holly, who are apparently both avoiding Draco, sitting on the armchairs, reading. Livvy looks up at his sister, and puts his finger to his throat, feigning sickness, and Briar figures he saw her say goodbye to Fred.

       Briar rolls her eyes. "You'll be the same, too, Liv!"

       "I will be classy about it," says Livvy, and Holly gives him a look, laughing. "Holliday dearest, you little shit, don't you dare—!"

       Briar raises her eyebrows. "Is this about Dr—?"

       Holly begins to laugh, in the way Ginny did when she found out her brother was going out with Briar. Livvy throws a cushion at Briar, but her inner eye already mentions it to her, so she steps to the side. He looks unimpressed. Holly's grin reminds Briar a lot of Draco, which she finds odd.

       Anyway.

       Briar walks down the hallway to her dorm room, hoping to find Fleur there — and then it hits her. The vision.

       And she sees it, clear as day, everything from how she brushed against Moody, to how the vision uncurled into that of her uncle. She feels her stomach drop, she stops dead in her tracks. Moody's actually Uncle Barty!

       ... Oh, fuck.

♡

       BRIAR DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO — what are you supposed to do, in this sort of situation? No one ever tells you the right thing to do, when you find out that, for some reason, your presumed-dead Death Eater uncle is currently posing as the ex-Auror Mad-Eye Moody. It's a very specific problem, and it's one Briar just doesn't have the answer to.

       What should she do? She can't tell anyone, it's already been made clear that if she tells anything about her uncle, then he'll hurt her friends, and she's sure this expands to Briar knows who he is. Briar's confused, Briar's worried about making the wrong step, but most importantly — Briar's scared. Terrified. One wrong look in the hall, when she sees her uncle, and that'll be it. She'll have a first-class train ticket to someone's funeral, whether it be Livvy, Fleur, Fred, George, Lee... Cedric, maybe? They don't even speak that much anymore, but it still scares Briar. She could get someone else killed because of this.

       The days turn into weeks, and before Briar knows it, she's standing two days away from the final task. She had the full moon a couple of days before, and used it as an excuse to have time off school, and to avoid her friends. Her stomach's been growing with dread, ever since the month started. She knows her inner eye's going to predict something catastrophic — this is how she always feels when it's about to happen — but she doesn't know what it could be. If anything, she's frustrated by it, because surely, she's got enough to deal with, minus whatever this is, too?

       On the Thursday before the final task, Fred waits for Briar outside of the carriage. It's been raining up until today, when it finally cleared up, so Briar's been telling Fred that she'll meet him up in the castle — admittedly she wants to be on her own a little, too. Everytime she sees her friends, she's overcome with a sense of dread. What if Uncle Barty hurts them? She knows what he's doing now, what if she looks too nervous when she sees him, what if he realises that she knows? What if he kills one of them?

       "Hi," says Briar when she steps out of the carriage. She crosses her arms, and she forces herself to think of something to say. "Uh, Maxime says that I'm doing really well... It's actually really nice, I think she's proper proud of me..."

       Fred looks across at her. He glances at her crossed arms, and she figures he's a little hurt he can't hold her hand, alongside everything else. He knows something's up with her. He always does.

       "What's wrong, Briar?"

       "Nothing's wrong."

       "Yeah, there is!" says Fred. "I'm not stupid, Briar. You were getting worked up over that vision you couldn't remember and then you dropped it — so you've seen the vision, then? Is that why you've been acting weird?"

       Briar stops walking. She frowns at him.

       "I can't tell you, Freddie."

       "Why not?"

        Because Uncle Barty will kill you.

       She looks at him. He looks pissed off, frustrated.

       So she says it — well, she's says something similar.

       "Because you could get killed."

       Fred frowns. "So you could get killed, then?"

       Briar doesn't reply, but he knows the answer.

       "You expect me to let you walk around, knowing something that could get you bloody killed?" says Fred. "Is it the Death Eaters, or something?"

      "I can't say," says Briar.

       Fred looks fed up, to say the least. Briar wishes she could tell him, but she's too scared to — she already feels a sense of dread whenever she thinks of murder and she looks at him, she doesn't want that to be something her inner eye's suggesting, rather than something she's just scared of.

       "It's easier if you don't know," says Briar.

       Fred shakes his head. "Well I disagree."

       It starts to spit a little; a raindrop hits Briar cheek, and she thinks fuck this.

       "Well you're not the one that sees the fucking future," says Briar, snapping. Her eyes sting with hot tears gathering in them. "You're not the one that throws up their lunch three times a week because they've had a vision. You're not the one that spends a full fucking night once a month having the worst visions, feeling physically ill from how terrible they are, but then you don't even remember them. You're not the one who has all of the weight of the fucking world on their shoulders because if you tell anyone what you know, that's it. They'll be fucking gone. Like your grandpa, your grandma, your mum — give me a fucking break, Weasley, you don't get it, and unless you get visions like I do, you never fucking will."

       Fred looks shocked, to say the least — but then it starts to set in for him, and he looks more and more pissed off.

       "So, what, it's easier now, to just push me away?" says Fred.

       Tears start falling down her face, and she gives him a nasty look. "You're making it pretty fucking hard, actually."

       Fred looks at her for a minute, before he shakes his head, and steps backwards. "You know what?" he says. "Have your space, then."

       And he walks away.

       And Briar bursts into tears.

       And Briar crashes in her dorm room.

       And Briar cries into Sergeant's fur.

       And Briar thinks, at least Uncle Barty won't hurt him now.

♡

       WHEN THE DAY OF THE FINAL task arrives, Briar can't even feel any sense of excitement for it. For the past couple weeks she's been helping Fleur out with her training, and even though her best friend's apart of the task, Briar can't help but feel disconnected from all of it. She has a feeling this is the side-effect of a vision that's about to come on, as if she's slowly being drawn out of the present and into the future. Briar isn't sure... All she knows is that the dread in her stomach is the worst it has ever been, to the point that, last night, Briar was sick from it.

       She walks into the hall with Fleur, and the two of them sit together. Fleur's too nervous to sit with others, and Briar doesn't want to. She hasn't spoken to Fred since their fight; she's spoken to George and Lee briefly, but it's been weird, mostly because Briar wants to be alone, and they can tell something's wrong. Apparently Livvy overheard George having a go at Fred because of it. Briar feels worse because of that, because it's not his fault, is it? She's the one that told him to clear off. And, besides, she isn't confused and nervous and scared because of Fred; she's confused and nervous and scared because of what's going to happen... What is going to happen, though?

       "Do you feel ready, then—?"

       "What's up with you, Briar?"

       Briar furrows her brows at her best friend. Fleur sighs.

       "You know what I am talking about," says Fleur. "Is something wrong?"

       Briar looks at Fleur for a minute. She wants to tell her the truth, so badly, but then she has awful flashes of what could happen, all of which ending in Fleur's body, dead on the ground, green light still glowing around her. Sighing, Briar rubs her eyes. "I can't tell you," she says. "It's just a vision... But it's been coming on since the start of the month, and I don't know, I've never had it this bad before..."

       "Maybe you should tell Madame Maxime," says Fleur.

       "I suppose," says Briar.

       "She should know this, Briar," says Fleur.

       "I guess," says Briar, but in actual fact she means, I already burden her too much, I'll be fine, I've had visions for years...

       And then it starts to happen.

       "Fleur," says Briar, beginning to panic. Her vision's covered with splotches already; normally it takes a while, but this time it's forceful. One second she's in the present, and snap, she's in the future. The sound of the hall rings in her ears, before it's drowned out completely — no longer can she hear the clattering of cutlery, people's day-old gossip, Fleur's nervous questions. Instead there's nothing, and like that, she's immersed completely into the future...

       The cold air practically makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She can feel the morning dew on the grass, brushing against her ankles. It's hard to see, because for her it's night-time now. All she can see is what the moon allows her to: the glimmer of the cauldron, the gravestones... Enough for her to gather that she is in a cemetery.

       "Briar...?"

       "She's only having a vision, you are doing nothing to help."

       "Well, we need to take her to the hospital wing."

       "No, we wait until she is back."

       Harry and Cedric appear, as her vision gets foggier. She hears Cedric's voice echo around her, thinking this is another part of the task... She hears a voice whisper, so cold it's just as bad as the breeze itself... "Kill the spare." Briar frowns. Kill the spare?

       "I say we go now—"

       "Well you are blindly ignoring what she would want!"

       She sees Cedric fall to the ground. She sees the green light. He's dead. Cedric's dead — dead, dead, dead. Briar doesn't know what to make of herself. All she can see is the future, when people begin to find out. She hears the scream his father lets out, the crying of his best friend, sobbing so much you can practically hear her heart breaking.

       The scene jumps back to the graveyard, and it begins to pick up, jumping from place to place. Peter drags Harry away. A snake weaves through the grass, the morning dew flicking onto its back, making it shine. Peter holds up a cloth, with something in it, as he begins to recite something... And then Briar blinks.

       She can still hear the ringing of the vision in her ears, as she snaps back to the past — no, the present — and she finds Fred, George, and Lee standing in front of her, all concerned. Briar looks at them, and then at Fleur.

       "I need to... I need to find Dumbledore," she says.

       Fleur looks horrified. "Dumbledore?"

       Peter's words echo in her ears: "BONE OF THE FATHER, UNKNOWINGLY GIVEN, YOU WILL RENEW YOUR SON! ... FLESH OF THE SERVANT, WILLINGLY GIVEN, YOU WILL RENEW YOUR MASTER—!"

       And then it clicks.

       Cedric isn't just dying.

       Voldemort's coming back.

       "Briar," says Fred, frowning. "Are you—?"

       "—BLOOD OF THE ENEMY—"

       Cedric's going to die. Voldemort's going to return.

       This can't be happening.

       "Briar," says George. "Briar—?"

      Briar can feel her heart in her throat.

       She can't let this happen.

       ... But isn't she supposed to let the future happen?

       "—FORCIBLY TAKEN—"

       She isn't meant to meddle. At least, not with big things.

       It could disrupt everything... 

      "—YOU WILL—"

       ... But who says it will disrupt everything?

       Is there any proof her meddling could derail time?

       ... And is it even meddling?

       "Maybe I should get Madame Maxime..."

       "No! You heard her — she wants Dumbledore!"

       Why... Why would she have these powers, if she wasn't supposed to use them for good?

       "—RESURRECT YOUR FOE!"

       Briar isn't letting Cedric die.

       "I need to find Dumbledore," says Briar, as she stands up. "And then I need to find Cedric." Fleur's eyes are widened, and Briar knows that she's acting mad, but she's got to stop this. She can, and so she will. If she can see the future, she should be able to stop it from happening — she dodges cushions, snowballs, strawberries thrown at her because she predicts it, why can't she save her friend?

       Briar runs towards the Hufflepuff common room, praying to God he'll be there. She hopes her inner eye will clear up so she can figure out where the fuck her friend is, before it's too late. But she's got to find him. She's got to.

       One thing is for certain in Briar's mind. She will not sit around and let the future happen — not when she can change a disastrous thing, not when fate sits in her hands in a way she can mould.

briar's running on fumes now ✌️✌️✌️

yeah SO i posted most noble!! the intro's up rn and once this part is finished im gonna start working on that!!!!! wooooooo!!!!!!

also......... mia pov coming soon 🙃 and more holly pov 🙃 the next chapter of this is gonna be a WILD one!!!!

so i hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you thought!!!! 💖💖