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Chapter 17 : Omitting the Truth
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In a small apartment in Bloomsbury, Lillian Jensley was keeping her cool. At least – that’s what she’d been telling herself.
‘Okay, Lillian. We’re perfectly fine. A crazy werewolf, thirsty for revenge is now probably hunting us down and wants our head off its usual spot – no big deal!’ the more ‘glass-half-full’ part of herself was saying.
‘Are you MENTAL?!’ her more rational part was yelling, before pausing. ‘Since we’re talking to our self, disregard that... but seriously, we can’t just sit here and wait to be slaughtered!’
‘You are so dramatic, Lillian,’ she retorted. ‘We are perfectly able to defend our self.’
‘Oh yes,’ she bit back sarcastically. ‘Because that worked out so well the last time.’
‘In our defence,’ she reasoned. ‘A guy was actually trying to get into our knickers last time.’
‘You were thinking it!’
“Uhm, Lillian?” The odd fixture tied to one of her dining chairs brought her to reality.
“I told you to let me think!” she snapped. “I’m in this mess because of you, Warren!”
He closed his eyes and winced. “I know, and I’m -”
“Oh, you’re sorry, are you?” she exclaimed loudly. “Well that changes everything! Why don’t I just run out and grab us a carton of milk so that we can have some tea- oh, wait, no that’s not right... A WEREWOLF WANTS ME DEAD AND YOU’RE SORRY?!!”
“Why do you people do that?” he asked softly after a long pause.
Lillian had been too busy working through her mild heart attack to be thrown by his tone. “Why do we do what?” she asked, slamming the glass of sugar water down hard on the countertop – she was rather surprised when the glass survived the impact.
“Not call us people?” he asked simply, his face portraying hurt and sadness that made Lillian’s stomach twinge uncomfortably.
“What do you mean us?” she asked, flabbergasted. “You don’t mean -”
“Just untie me before you run, please,” he said, shaking his head slightly.
Lillian was struggling to keep up her kidnapper façade. Her curiosity won out in the end.
“Do you know what they tell you after they find you? After you’ve been gifted, I mean.” he added with a sad smile, his voice quivering slightly. “I still remember it – the woman carrying me into St Mungo’s kept saying that it was going to be alright – that I was going to be alright – and then you get the news that you’re infected... no one tells you that you’re going to be fine after that. Instead, they run and scream, or flinch when your name is mentioned in conversation,” he closed his eyes and abruptly stopped speaking.
“And after you transform, though,” Lillian noticed his body recoiling as he said the word, “You are referred to as The Werewolf. Not he or she – it.” He looked at her face, noticing that her emotions had gotten the best of her and that she was crying.
“First time I’ve made someone cry -” he chuckled darkly. “I’ve had pants-wetting, running away abruptly and one guy even tried to hold me back with a wooden cross -”
“You misunderstand me,” she said in her voice that was thick from the tears. “I didn’t know that you had been infected,” she said, going to sit down at the chair opposite his at the table.
He rolled his eyes. “I understand you perfectly,” he said simply. “Right now, you’re terrified of me and what I could potentially do to you – you can go if you want, I’ll be fine.”
“Oh please,” she said, mirroring his eye-roll. “You do not get to play the pity-card,” she said quickly. “Let’s not forget that you were the one that got me into all of this.”
“Well, since I’m not allowed to apologise and your emotions seem to do a one-eighty every five seconds – get over it. Skorponok will be here soon; do you have a plan of action?” he asked quickly.
“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to call headquarters.”
“If you do that he’ll just wait us out – you have to hit him where it hurts.”
“And how do you propose I do that?” she snapped.
“Well that’s simple, we go to Greyback.”
“Why would Greyback help us?” she asked. “He’s a -”
“Listen, Lillian,” Warren interrupted quickly. “I know that he’s a werewolf, but he’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father. Skorponok was instructed not to let any harm befall me,” her eyes couldn’t help but find the marks Skorponok’s hands had left on his neck.
“You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed, slamming her fist into the table. “He places himself close to innocent people before a full moon -”
“Everybody has their faults,” he shrugged.
“How can you be so damn callous about this?” she said, for the first time feeling afraid of the man in front of her. “How can you try to defend what he does?”
“He gifts people,” he said as he rolled his eyes.
She laughed darkly, and composed herself almost instantaneously. “Do you know what I do for a living, Warren?” she asked, taking him completely by surprise for the umpteenth time.
“File,” he said with a smirk, frowning at her behaviour. A second ago he was defending Greyback and now he was answering mundane questions.
She smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Correct,” she said monotonously. “I file.”
“I fail to see your point.”
“I get to see every case, every gruesome detail, every bite-mark, and every disfigured body -”
“Did you know that your father, Fenrir Greyback, has the largest file of all our other suspects?” she said seriously. “Did you know in the past six months, he turned more than fifty children alone – by children I mean eleven years and younger – did you know that, of the fifty defenceless children, only about five have stable homes they are still allowed in?”
“That’s impossible; he turns one or two -”
“He turns one or two,” she imitated his voice stupidly. “You know what that means, of course – assuming you know basic subtraction, Warren.”
“He never -”
“That’s more than eight bites per full moon, give or take, and subtracting the five stable homes- well, I tend to ignore the suicide cases,” she spat sarcastically. “You asked me why we don’t call you what we call our own kind? Him or her, instead of it?”
He looked at her with hurt in his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t -”
“Because you call a man who murders for fun your father – you defend what he does with a shrug, claiming that ‘we all have faults’” she was shaking with rage.
He didn’t answer.
“You can go back to your father,” she spat, waving her wand violently at the ropes binding his wrists, which in turn fell to the ground soundlessly. “Just don’t ever come near me again.”
“Are you sure you have everything, dears?” Molly asked from where she was standing in the doorway with Arthur.
“Yes, thank you Mrs Weasley,” Harry answered politely.
“Thanks for everything, mum,” Ginny said as she came rushing out of the house, grabbing her parents into a brief group hug.
“Be sure to owl us when you get home!” Hermione hollered from Ginny’s room, where she and Ron were sticking their heads out of the window.
As they were saying their final goodbyes, a rush of flames could be heard from the fireplace.
“Hello?” a male voice that sounded awfully familiar to Harry called.
Everyone hurried inside to find none other than James Potter about to ascend the stairs.
“Dad?” Harry exclaimed, more surprised than he was comfortable with. “What’re you doing here?”
“Arthur, Molly.” he nodded and shook Mr Weasley’s hand quickly. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to take Ginny and Harry with me -” he paused, waiting for a response from the statuesque people in front of him. “And Ron, as well. It’s of the utmost importance that you come with me immediately.” he addressed them directly.
Just then, Ron came into view with Hermione following closely behind.
“Mr. Potter,” he said in a business-like voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Lillian Jensley was attacked,” he said shortly to Ron, who nodded, but still seemed confused. He kissed Hermione quickly on the cheek and went to stand with Mr. Potter.
“Wait, Lillian Jensley?” Harry asked. “Frank’s secretary?”
“The same,” James nodded. “She’s fine, but Harry – we need leave immediately,” James said in an authorotive voice, sounding rather concerned as well.
Harry felt Ginny squeeze just above his elbow where she was holding on to him, and he nodded. “Must be important if you came all of this way?” he said as they walked to the fireplace.
“I’ll tell you more once we’re at the Ministry,” his father replied shortly. “Arthur, I think it would be best to set up a few protective charms around the Burrow – I’ll send over a few of my men just to be sure that you’re safe – we’ve never had something like this come our way. As to what’s going on, I’ll come back to update you as soon as I have my own family secured.”
“Just tell me what we’re protecting ourselves against, at least?” Mr. Weasley blurted out.
Mr. Potter stopped in front of the fireplace, holding the floo pot for Ginny. Everyone was looking at him expectantly.
“Werewolves,” Mr. Potter said before nudging Ginny closer to the fireplace. “She’s safe with us, Arthur.”
Mr. Weasley looked as if he were about to protest, but Mrs. Weasley put a hand on his arm. “We’ll see the protections are done, James. Please take good care of Ginny, Harry.” she added as she marched Arthur from the room. She heard Harry answer “With my life,” before a whooshing sound made itself known, indicating that they’d flooed.
Hermione took a deep breath in order to calm herself. She was finding it rather hard to process what had just transpired – but decided to direct her energy toward something more constructive. So she pulled out her wand and joined Mr. and Mrs. Weasley outside.
“- and I apparated home,” Lillian finished, visibly shaken by the retelling of the story.
Ron fell against the back of his chair. He and Mr Potter were talking with the young Ms Jensley about what had transpired between her and Skorponok.
“So you were abducted by mistake of identity, and when he found out and approached you, you stole your wand back and apparated away.” Ron summed up, feeling as if he’d been reading a book that was missing a few pages – Hermione was getting to him, he thought suddenly, referring back to the book metaphor.
“Basically,” she shrugged. “I’m just happy that they had stolen the wrong employee file,” she chuckled.
James furrowed his brow, an action that was being mirrored by his son, who was sitting with Ginny in the next cubicle silently.
He felt Harry’s presence in his mind immediately. ‘Dad, she’s lying about something,’ he heard via their Occlumency link.
‘I’m glad that I’m not the only one that picked up on that,’ he answered before shutting Harry out again.
“Mrs Jensley, as a secretary to a Head of office in Holyhead, by extension making you an employee to the ministry, you do realise that you are subject to Legillimency by our Head of department -” he shrugged uncomfortably. “Meaning me.”
Ron could almost hear the woman gulp.
“Now, of course I wouldn’t invade the privacy of irrelevant thought, but I have to admit that I’m sensing some left out information,” Mr Potter said seriously. “And lying to an Auror about information -”
“Please, sir,” she interrupted suddenly. “I graduated school almost ten years ago – I know how to read. Lying is a criminal offence and could cost me my job,” she said bluntly, before looking down at the table.
Ron raised his eyebrows at the woman, waiting for Mr Potter to say something about talking with respect to someone of his status – needless to say he was quite taken off guard when said Mr Potter leaned forwards in his chair and cocked his head to the right.
“I know what you’re doing, Lillian,” he said quietly. “Considering Skorponok is quite high in Greyback’s ranks, I’m sure that it’s safe to say that he wasn’t working alone.”
She looked up at his kind smiling face quickly before hiding shooting her gaze back to the table. “I’m sorry – I don’t usually make a habit of lying to people,”
“Tell me what happened, Lillian,” Mr Potter said seriously. “Tell me what really happened.”
“I can’t tell you everything,” she said sadly. “I made a promise – I intend to keep that, at least – even though I’m screaming at myself mentally right now.”
Mr Potter nodded and looked to Ron, who was sitting with a surprised look on his face.
“Mr Weasley, could you please accompany Harry and Ginny to my house,” he said quickly. “They’ll know where to go.”
“Yes sir,” Ron nodded.
“Thank you,” Mr Potter said sincerely. “After they’re inside, please go home and see that Finnegan and Thomas have set up the appropriate protective charms at the Burrow.”
“Sorry, Sir. Did you say Thomas? As in Dean?”
Mr Potter nodded. “Please Ron,” he said, and Ron felt the dismissive tone to his instruction.
He met a stony-faced Harry and a confused Ginny in the adjacent cubicle. “Well then,” he said. “This’ll be interesting.”
“Indeed,” Harry said darkly, before gesturing for Ginny to take the lead. “Good thing he’s at the Burrow.” Ron heard Harry mutter and snorted, clapping him on the back.
Wow, I'm so sorry for taking this long to post again... and then with a chapter as short as this one... I guess writer's block could be blamed, but honestly school's been murdering my free time, so as I'm on vacation now, things should settle a bit more!
Instead of giving shout-outs this time, I'm going to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for reading my story and especially to those who've taken time to leave a review!!!
Which brings me to my next point: The addition of Lillian and Warren has been a seriously nerve-wracking decision to take, so I would love some feedback on the little side-story. I especially loved how TxGinny referred to them as the Secretary and the Werewolf.
Thank you so much to all of you for reading, and for sticking with my story - your feedback always seems to brighten my day. Please review! (ANY AND ALL QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, THOUGHTS AND CONCERNS ARE WELCOME AND ALWAYS ANSWERED!!!)
All my love
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