[i] "Hey, er, Alex? It's dark out. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired...want to continue this another time? I promise you can still look through my books. Are you...are you all right?"[/i]

I slowly look up from the book, a fire in heart. Fiedfyre. Why had this never occured to me before. It wasn't a natural fire that day. Impossible. The way the flames just [i]attacked[/i] my family. The way it just consumed the entire house. No...fiendfyre. And only dark wizards use fiendfyre. It is widely considered an evil magic.  Almost demonic in nature. But I'd use it. And woe be to the wizards responsible for this. They will feel the same horror my family did. That I did. Fiendfyre. The best way to fight fyre, is WITH fyre. 

[b]"This book leaves more questions than answers,"[/b] I sigh at last, closing the thing. [b]"I am 100% certain it was fiendfyre I was dealing with. I'm lucky to be alive..Anyway. If I'm right, and I'm absolutely sure of this, then why? Who killed my family. [i]why[/i] go after them? It was almost certainly an attack on my mother, as she was the witch. You don't need fiendfyre to kill a muggle. A witch, however...[/b] I frown, standing to my feet and handing Bridget the book. [b]"I don't know. I need to find out who would have had reason to murder my mother. Once I discover THAT little bit of information...it will lead me right to those who murdered my family. Maybe you can help with that, in fact. See if you can find any mention of a witch named Arianna Celeste White. That is my mothers name. I need answers, Bridget."[/b]

I pause awkwardly for a moment. She has already helped me so much. And for what? There aren't many people like her in this world. Suddenly filled with a surge of gratitude that goes beyond anything I've ever felt, I reach out, pulling her into a solid embrace. [b]"Thank you,"[/b] I say, my voice shaking slightly as I release the hug, holding her shoulders and giving a slight shake as I speak. [b]"You've given me some answers already and I will eternally be grateful for it. So thank you."[/b] I let go, suddenly feeling my face flush red and turn away. Perhaps she is right. Perhaps it is best we go to bed now.


****************************************************************************

As time passes, Bridget and I meet at the Room of Requirement nearly every day, unless we get swamped with homework. I read more of her books, but more than that...I feel I finally have a friend. This scares me, but it also satisfies a part of me that I thought had died in that fire years ago. The more time we spend together, the more alike I can see we are. She is damn good with wand lore, and sometimes we just discuss wand theory. Of course, she walks circles around me in that regard, but I've not spent near as much time studying wands. It is a weakness in my knowledge that I intend to rectify eventually.

There is an odd thing I've noticed over the last couple weeks. MOST days, the Room of Requirement has no problem letting us in. But on rare occasions, it refuses to let us in. I'm not sure why, either. It has only happened a few times, and I'm inclined to write it off as a glitch in the magic of the room. Perhaps whatever enchantment created the room in the first place is starting to degrade after all this time? I don't know. That's what I [i]want[/i] to think. But...there is something nagging in the back of my mind that I can't quite shake. I have a bad feeling about it.

Christmas break comes, and I'm no closer to finding out why someone would want to kill my mother. But I'll find out. I'm determined. And I have the smartest witch I've ever met, helping me. You hear people talking about how smart Hermione, a Gryffindor girl, is...but Bridget, I think, could outsmart her in every way. I've met her once or twice, in passing, so I feel I can make that judgement.

I sigh, glaring at the 18 inches of parchment in my hand. Ridiculous. Still, at least it's my strong subject, Defense Against the Dark Arts. I still can't believe Snape assigned an essay [i]this long[/i] the day of Christmas break. Thank you, professor. I look up from the parchment towards Bridget, glowering. [b]"You know, just one day I'd like to just walk into class, and say 'did I write your essay? NO Professor, I did not, because you're about as warm as Merlin's excised left NUT, and I flat refuse to work this hard during our breaks!"[/b] 

I roll up the Parchment, done for now, and stuff it into the folds of my robes. [b]"How are things coming along for you? Better than ME I hope. I'm just not in the mood for this right now."[/b]