I'm spoiling you now with these regular updates, I know, but it'll be a few days until the next one as this one's quite long, so I hope you enjoy it!
I'd also like to say a huge thank you to Acro, who's reviewed very regularly and made lots of interesting comments on the story – your input really does make me smile!
Are we close to finding out what's wrong with Amelia? You know, we might be…
/…/
Chapter 10 – Enemy in Pink
The morning after Snape's summons, Amelia was having a trying day of her own. Unbeknownst to her, she'd been plagued by nightmares again, and for reasons she didn't fully understand, her nightly practice of meditation seemed far less relaxing at the school than it had been for most of her life. Breakfast in the Great Hall had been a subdued affair, with the Gryffindors angered by Umbridge's treatment of them in class, and the officious witch's refusal to allow them to perform magic.
As a way of fighting back, Hermione had persuaded Harry to hold a Defence Meeting in Hogsmeade the following weekend, but the boy seemed more withdrawn than ever, and had left the table to go walking before anyone else had so much as finished their breakfast. Hermione and Ron had gone out to look for him, while Ginny snuck off to spend a couple of hours with Dean, her new boyfriend, which left Amelia to wander the castle alone, musing over whether she'd ever truly fit in.
As Snape was making his way to his laboratory following his conversation with Dumbledore, Amelia set out across the grounds to visit Hagrid, but when she got there, she found the half-giant's hut empty. Feeling disquieted, although she couldn't place her finger on why, she walked around the length of the building, peering into the windows and finding it eerily deserted.
Just as she was turning to leave, and making a mental note to ask Snape where Hagrid had disappeared to, a girlish cough rang out behind her. She tensed immediately. Despite being at the castle for a few weeks, she hadn't had many reasons to be around the saccharine DADA teacher, and she couldn't shake the feeling that after finding nothing wrong with her that day in the Hospital Wing, Dolores Umbridge didn't like her much at all.
Nevertheless, she smiled as she turned around, and managed to bite back a laugh at the ridiculous pink outfit the woman was wearing.
"Good morning, Professor," she said mildly.
"Is it?"
"Sorry?"
The little witch stepped forward, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"It seemed, my dear, that you were looking for the half-breed."
Amelia bristled.
"I was looking for Hagrid, yes," she said warily. "And you?"
A high-pitched chuckle answered her question.
"Yes, I was looking for him. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you dear?"
Amelia felt her anger rise and nausea swell in her stomach, but she kept her face impassive.
"No, Professor, I have no idea where Hagrid is. Perhaps you should ask the Headmaster?"
Umbridge smiled unpleasantly, and paused for a moment before changing tact.
"I hear you've been having some trouble with your wand?"
She shifted uncomfortably.
"A little."
The woman stepped up closer to her, her breath hot on her face.
"Not much of a witch without a wand, are you?" She hissed.
Amelia felt her magic react instinctively to the threat, and a wave of heat pushed out from her, propelling Umbridge backwards on her feet.
"I don't think that's any of your business, Professor," she answered defiantly.
The toady face contorted in anger, and her wand appeared in her hand.
"You dare threaten me, Muggleborn?" She challenged.
"I'm not threatening anyone," she said, stepping forward, and feeling the magic in her chest crackle and strain. "Perhaps you should leave, though, before you come to harm."
It wasn't an idle threat. The power inside her was straining against its bindings; she could feel it sparking in her fingertips and crackling through her hair.
"You would do well to respect your betters," Umbridge warned, and suddenly, her wand sliced through the air, and Amelia felt pain explode across her face.
She raised a hand and found no blood to prove the attack had taken place, but her magic was out of control, and it leapt from her fingers and propelled the Professor through the air, where she landed on her back with a shriek, and began to scramble away.
"You, you, you freak!" She spluttered. "The Minister will hear about this, you mark my words!"
But as she hurried away back to the castle, Amelia could only double over and clutch her stomach in agony. The magic in her chest was burning a hole right through her – she could feel it bending and twisting, scorching her insides as her anger redoubled itself.
She gasped and retched violently, ridding herself of her meagre breakfast and moaning into the cold autumn air. Her head felt as though it were splitting down the middle, and voices she couldn't make sense of echoed in her head.
Control your emotions. You don't want the pain again, do you?
"No, no, no," she heard herself gasping, as tears streamed down her face.
Magic is pain. Anger is pain. Fear is pain.
She whimpered on the ground, writhing against the burning that was spreading to every inch of her body. As a final wave of heat fled from her, scorching a circle around where she lay, her last conscious thought was of Severus, and whether he'd be able to rescue her this time. Then the world went black, and she thought no more.
/…/
In the Great Hall at lunchtime, Hermione looked around the room expectantly. They hadn't seen Amelia all morning, and she knew how worried the witch still was about her magic.
"Don't you think it's strange she isn't here?" She asked Ron, who was busy stuffing sandwiches into his mouth. He shrugged and grunted in response.
"Oh for goodness sake, Ronald! Don't you ever think about anything other than food?"
He looked up at her, stricken.
"What? I'm hungry!"
Hermione shook her head in exasperation, but for once kept her own counsel. She knew it was hard for Amelia to be around teenagers all the time, and she could sympathise. She often felt far more mature than her peers, and she hardly dared imagine what it would be like to actually be so much older, and to be thrown into a school with children. Perhaps the new witch was just giving herself a break. She could allow her that much, after all.
/…/
In the dungeons, Snape glanced again at the clock on his wall. It was nearly 4p.m., and Amelia hadn't been down to see him. After he'd left Dumbledore's office, he'd assumed he would have a couple of hours of uninterrupted brewing, before she would arrive to join him at lunchtime as she often did on a Saturday.
He hated to admit it, but he missed the witch's presence at his side. He was still beaten and bruised from the previous night's summons, and it had become comforting to hear the sounds of another person in the room while he worked; her quiet murmurs and excited exclamations when she discovered something new that made her smile.
"She's obviously got better things to do today, what did you expect?" He rebuked himself impatiently. But after another hour's worth of work, he found he couldn't concentrate anymore, and left his quarters to make his way to the Great Hall early, thinking as he did so, that he might run into her on the way.
/…/
By the time dinner arrived and Amelia still hadn't been seen by anyone all day, Hermione wasn't the only one who was worried. Harry had joined them during the afternoon, along with Luna Lovegood, and the strange girl had said, in her own dreamy way, that the magic around the castle was angry today. Hermione, ever the pragmatist, didn't put too much stock in Luna's bizarre proclamations, but even she had felt ill at ease for reasons she couldn't quite place, and she had a strange feeling that something awful had happened to her friend.
"It's not right, Harry," she hissed across the table. "We have to go and look for her."
Harry hadn't been himself since that night in the graveyard, but having a definable problem to solve seemed to lend him the spark he'd been missing, and he leant over the table towards her conspiratorially.
"If she doesn't come to the Common Room later, we'll get my dad's old cloak out and visit her rooms to find out."
Temporarily comforted, Hermione nodded and turned her gaze back to her food, chewing thoughtfully.
/…/
At the Head Table, the teachers, too, had noted Amelia's absence. Snape had hardly touched the food on his plate, so transfixed on the doors at the other end of the hall had he been. Dumbledore caught his eye and raised his eyebrows questioningly, his eyes twinkling, but the Potions Master simply scowled and went back to observing the room.
Potter and his friends were clearly up to something, but for once, that was no concern of his. The only thing he was concerned about, was that his witch seemed to be avoiding him. He was so concerned, in fact, that it didn't even cross his mind to berate himself for the mental slip. In that moment, she was his witch, and he was more worried than he cared to let on.
Throughout the meal, Dolores Umbridge sat with the teachers, a smug smile gracing her lips, as she observed the empty place at the table where Amelia should have been.
/…/
Later that night, Hermione paced the Common Room, waiting with growing trepidation for the last of the stragglers to go to bed. Amelia hadn't come to see them, and she was more convinced than ever that something was wrong. As the Weasley twins finally sloped off to their dormitory, Harry and Ron emerged downstairs, carrying the cloak between them.
"No sign of her?" Harry asked.
She shook her head, her brow creased.
"Something's not right," she said. "I know it."
"I think you're right," Ron agreed quickly.
"Come on, let's go before anyone else comes down."
With practiced ease, Harry swung the cloak over the three of them, and they vanished from view.
They saw no-one on their walk through the castle; even the portraits seemed to sense a disturbance, and were unusually quiet as they passed by. Moonlight spilled into the corridor from the large windows by the entrance to Amelia's quarters, and after a cursory glance to check they were alone, they removed the cloak and revealed themselves to the centaur.
"Well, well, who have we here?" The portrait asked. "You three are out past curfew."
"Yes, we're sorry Mr Centaur, sir," Hermione babbled, earning her a withering look from Ron. "But we were wondering if you'd seen Amelia today? She's missing, you see, and no-one's seen her."
"Missing, you say?"
Hermione nodded.
"Hm… Ordinarily, we portraits keep our own counsel, but then, we are also tasked with the welfare of this school. What to do…"
"So, you haven't seen her?" Hermione's voice rose to a panicked pitch. "Do you know where she was going when she left this morning?"
The centaur observed them for a moment.
"I do."
"Can you tell us?" Harry asked urgently. "Please, we just want to make sure she's alright."
After a moment's hesitation, the portrait seemed to come to a decision.
"In this instance, I think safety is the lesser of two evils. Ordinarily, you understand, we portraits do not reveal what we know of the witches and wizards we guard, but I do concede that this disappearance is out of character for my resident. If you truly are worried, then I can tell you that she intended to visit Hagrid after breakfast."
The three of them looked at each other in alarm.
"But Hagrid's-"
"Been missing-"
"For weeks!"
Immediately, they began to run in the direction of the Entrance Hall, with Hermione calling a quick 'thank you!' over her shoulder to the bewildered guardian of Amelia's rooms.
At the double doors, Harry slipped the cloak over them once more, and they crept surreptitiously out into the darkness. The cold hit them immediately. The first layer of autumn frost had covered the ground, and their breath misted in front of them even with the protection of the cloak.
"I don't like this," Hermione whispered as they made their way down the path. "I don't like this at all."
Harry and Ron agreed silently, and they moved closer together as they crept towards the dark silhouette of Hagrid's hut.
"Amelia?" Hermione called softly as they approached. "Amelia? Are you out here?"
"Lia?" Ron echoed. And then: "Merlin, it's cold."
Harry nodded, his teeth chattering.
"Something feels strange," he said.
"Strange how?"
"I dunno, like- Oh my God!"
Suddenly, he bolted out from under the cloak, and Ron and Hermione followed his sprint towards a dark mound on the ground at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Scorch marks surrounded Amelia in a perfect circle. She was unconscious and curled into a protective ball, her face covered in livid bruises and her arms streaked as though burned.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Ron muttered, turning away and staggering towards the trees.
Hermione dropped to her knees beside Harry and turned Amelia over.
"Amelia? Amelia can you hear me?"
Harry's face looked green in the moonlight.
"Is she…?"
"No, she's still breathing," Hermione answered. "Quickly, take Ron and get back to the castle. Find a teacher, or a prefect – anyone – she's ice cold. I don't want to think how long she's been out here."
Harry didn't need telling twice. Grabbing a distinctly sick-looking Ron by the shoulder, he half-dragged the other boy with him, and the two of them sped towards the castle, the cold air burning in their lungs.
They sprinted into the Entrance Hall only moments later, their feet pounding loudly on the stone floor in the echoing darkness.
"Where do we go?" Ron panted.
"The Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey's bound to still be awake," Harry answered, barely slowing down as he took the stairs two at a time. They had almost reached the entrance, when a voice neither of them wanted to hear echoed down the corridor towards them.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Professor Snape stepped out of the shadows, smirking widely. "What could two Gryffindors, such as yourselves, be doing running through the castle at this hour? My, we are in trouble, aren't we?"
But they wouldn't be deterred – not even by Snape.
"Please, sir, you don't understand," Harry panted. "It's Amelia, she-"
Snape's expression changed in an instant.
"Amelia?" He interrupted sharply. "What-?"
"She's been hurt!" Ron blurted out.
Snape paused for only a moment, taking in the two boys swiftly, before deciding that they weren't trying to make a fool of him.
"Explain yourselves," he demanded.
"We hadn't seen her all day, and Hermione was worried, so we went to talk to her portrait," Harry started, before breaking off to draw in a great lungful of air.
"The centaur said she hadn't been there all day," Ron interjected. "But that she'd been on her way to Hagrid's after breakfast-"
"So we went out to look for her, and, and-"
Snape grabbed Harry by his arms and shook him slightly, his face inches away.
"And what? Spit it out, Potter!"
"And we found her by Hagrid's hut. Hermione's with her now. She's unconscious, and-"
But Snape was already running down the stairs, his cloak billowing out behind him, and a stricken expression on his face.
/…/
Outside, Hermione had taken off her cloak and wrapped it tightly around Amelia's freezing body, her eyes wide as she observed the unusual scorch marks on her skin. They looked… Well, they looked as though she'd been burnt from the inside out. Shuddering in the cold, Hermione looked up towards the school, and let out a yelp of surprise as the Potions Master, his robes streaming out behind him and his face far paler in the darkness, bore down upon her and dropped instantly to his knees.
"Amelia?" He said, pulling her out of Hermione's arms and placing trembling hands on either side of her face. "Amelia? Amy, can you hear me?"
Hermione watched open-mouthed, as, without waiting for a response, he pulled out his wand and began to cast a series of diagnostic spells over the still body.
"Sir," she managed to gasp out at last. "She's been missing all day, and it looks like she's been burned, but-"
"Yes, yes, I can see that Miss Granger," he snapped without looking at her. "Run back to the castle at once and fetch Professor Dumbledore. Tell him what's happened and ask him to meet us in the Hospital Wing. The password to his office is Fizzing Whizzbee. Well? What are you waiting for? Go, now!"
Without waiting to be told again, Hermione scrambled to her feet and raced back to the castle. Left alone, Snape finally succumbed to his panic, scooping Amelia into his arms and holding her close to his chest as he strode back towards the school.
"Amy? Amy?" He pleaded as he ran. "What has happened to you, you foolish witch?"
/…/
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