Despite the three glasses of Fire Whiskey she had just downed, or perhaps because of them, the walk/limp back to the castle was rather pleasant. She hiccupped once or twice and broke out into random fits of giggles for no apparent reason but that was all that happened. The sad part was that it wasn't the Fire Whiskey that was causing her to giggle randomly; she was just reacting to the whole situation rather strangely. Amanda briefly wondered how long the giggles would last before the tears came, but then broke out in another laughing fit and pushed the thought aside.
She didn't go back to the hospital wing, now that the shock had worn off she wouldn't be able to handle all their faces, and instead headed straight for the Headmasters office… now supposedly her mothers' office.
Professors Sprout, Slughorn, and McGonagall were already there, along with Hagrid and Harry. They all nodded grimly at her before turning back to Minerva.
"I want to talk about what happens to Hogwarts before the Minister gets here," she said quickly. "Personally, I'm not convinced the school should reopen next year. The death of the headmaster at the hands of one of our colleagues is a terrible strain upon Hogwarts history."
Amanda was furious, how could she talk like that? If Hogwarts died with Dumbledore then what was the point? His death was designed to crush them, to stamp out all hope, but it wouldn't, not as long as they kept moving.
But she didn't say anything; who knew what would come out if she opened her mouth? It seemed a miracle that she was at least not giggling. But perhaps it was because her throat was tight beyond all measure and there seemed to be a gaping whole right where she thought her chest was supposed to be.
"I am sure Dumbledore would have wanted the school to reopen," said Professor Sprout. "I feel that if a single pupil wants to come, then the school ought to stay open for that pupil."
"But will we have a single pupil after this?" said Slughorn.
Amanda scowled, unnoticed by everyone except some of the portraits. Of course they would have more students! Not everyone was a coward like Slughorn.
"Parents will want to keep their children at home and I can't say I blame them. Personally, I don't think we're in any more danger at Hogwarts then anywhere else, but you can't expect anyone else to think like that. They'll want to keep their families together, it's only natural."
"I agree," said Professor McGonagall. "And in any case, it's not true to say that Dumbledore never envisioned a situation where the school would close. When the Chamber of Secrets reopened he considered closure of the school – and I must say the death of Dumbledore is more disturbing to me then the idea of Slytherin's monster living undetected in the bowels of the castle…"
"We must consult the governors," said Sprout. "We must follow the established procedures. A decision should not be made in haste."
"Hagrid, you haven't said anything," said Professor McGonagall. "What are your views, ought Hogwarts to remain open?"
Hagrid, who had been weeping silently into his large handkerchief throughout the whole conversation, now raised puffy red eyes and croaked, "I dunno, Professor… that's fer the Heads of House an' the headmistress ter decide…"
"Professor Dumbledore always valued your views," said Professor McGonagall kindly, "and so do I."
"Well, I'm stayin'," said Hagrid. "It's me home, its bin me home since I was thirteen. An' if there's kids who want me ter teach 'em, I'll do it. But… I dunno… Hogwarts without Dumbledore…" He gulped and disappeared behind his handkerchief once more.
"I don't think we have a choice," Amanda said quietly, finally forcing the tight feeling in her throat back.
Her voice, so quiet and unexpected, made all heads turn towards her.
"What do you mean, Amy?" asked Minerva, sounding rather strained again.
Of course she would seem strained talking to the younger woman; Amanda was like a walking bomb. She hadn't grieved yet, she hadn't howled in anger over the betrayal of Severus, but she would. It was inevitable, and when it happened Minerva didn't envy the person Amanda chose to pour her wrath into.
"Voldemort –" there was a collective hiss from those gathered – "is surely going to make his move quickly now, including the take over of the Ministry. I fear that he will reopen the school, if only to keep track of all the students and to hold their families in line."
There was grim silence at her words, it was a possibility none of them had thought of, and it was far from reassuring.
"But surely you don't think anyone would send their students back, if that was the case?" said Slughorn, mopping his brow with a large handkerchief.
"Amanda's right," said Minerva, "I don't think we, or the students, will have a choice." She glanced out one of the windows as she spoke, checking to see if the Minister had arrived yet. "Very well, for the time being though, we must act as if that is not the case, and consult the governors, who will make the final decision."
Amanda bowed her head in silent acceptance.
"Now, as to getting the students home… there is an argument for doing it sooner, rather then later. We could arrange for the Hogwarts Express to come tomorrow if necessary –"
"What about Dumbledore's funeral?" said Harry, speaking at last.
"Well…" said Professor McGonagall, losing a little of her briskness as her voice shook. "I – I know that it was Dumbledore's wish to be laid to rest here, at Hogwarts –"
"Then that's what'll happen, isn't it?" said Harry fiercely.
"If the Ministry thinks it appropriate," said McGonagall. "No other headmaster or headmistress has ever been –"
"No other headmaster or headmistress ever gave more to this school" growled Hagrid.
"I don't think they'll mind," Amanda said dryly, pointing a long finger at the portraits on the wall, who were in fact nodding enthusiastically at the idea.
Looking up at the nodding portraits, Amanda was struck by a sudden thought. Had Dumbledore's portrait…? Yes. When she shifted slightly to the right she could see it; the new portrait of Dumbledore hung just above the desk, his figure slumping against his golden frame with his half-moon spectacles perched upon his crooked nose, looking quite untroubled in sleep.
"And in that case," said Harry, "you shouldn't send the students home until the funeral's over. They'll want to say –"
"Good-bye." Amanda finished for him, when it became apparent that he could not. She felt her throat tighten again as the word slipped past, choking her.
"Our students should pay tribute, it is fitting. We can arrange transport home afterward."
"Seconded," barked Professor Sprout.
"I suppose… yes…" said Slughorn in a rather agitated voice, while Hagrid let out a rather strangled sob of assent.
Amanda nodded her head, even less able to speak than the obviously distraught Hagrid.
"He's coming," said Professor McGonagall suddenly, her eagle eyes fixed on the small movements from the grounds. "The Minister… and by the looks of it, he's brought a delegation…"
"Can I leave, Professor?" said Harry at once.
"You may," said Minerva. "And quickly."
Harry did not need telling twice, he sped down the spiral staircase and away down the hall. It was best that he leave, the boy was in no state to be interviewed by Rufus Scrimgeour. Speaking of which, neither was she.
"Now, Professor McGonagall," her mother said. The very fact that she had used her title shocked Amanda into paying attention. "I believe, that with the condition of your leg being what it is," – here Amanda took the time to realize that her leg was, indeed, about to collapse under her – "that it would be best if you rested in the study over there. And just in case someone forgets that you are in there you may wish to lock the door so that they don't disturb you on accident."
Amanda blinked once, then twice, slowly absorbing the fact that she wouldn't have to face the Ministry tonight, and that her mother was the one offering her this chance out. The other Professor's nodded their approval. She nodded slowly, hoping to convey with her eyes how grateful she was for the chance.
"As you wish, Professor."
Her mother had been right to send her away. Immediately upon arriving the Minister had demanded to know what had happened, and he promptly demanded to speak with her once he learned that she had been present when it had happened.
And while Minerva had willingly told him where Amanda was, the Hogwarts Head office was more than able to seal itself against unwanted intruders. Minerva, being headmistress now, could have easily asked the doors to open and they would have smoothly slide back to reveal the injured woman within. Minerva, however, seemed to have randomly forgotten this tid-bit of information, instead walking out to leave the Minister to attempt to break down the doors.
The sleeping woman hidden inside never stirred.
The days following were, like the walk back to the castle, surprisingly easy for Amanda. Perhaps it was just that she was keeping busy and not allowing herself to think on past events, but she somehow managed to flit around as she normally did, doing odd jobs and comforting anyone who reached out for it. There was only one point where she really lost it, and that was when Bill pointed out that she had a mark on her neck.
Looking in the mirror Amanda found a large black and brown mark, right at the base of her neck. Fury had risen in Amanda's chest until she was positively shaking with the effort to control herself. Severus had marked her. He'd done it hours before killing Dumbledore. He had practically had her begging for him, hours before betraying them all! How could he? How dare he? How… how had she been so stupid?
Amanda had promptly thrown the mirror across the room, watching with satisfaction as glass flew everywhere. She had then proceeded to throw anything else remotely reflective until she'd collapsed against the wall, her voice hoarse from screaming.
But she was fine… really… Just because she woke up screaming every time she tried to sleep, and her magic didn't seem to work at all… and it was perfectly normal to get enraged and throw things when left alone long enough in this type of situation. It didn't mean there was anything wrong with her. Right? Of course not…
The day of Dumbledore's funeral dawned bright and sunny, exactly as he would have wanted it. He probably wouldn't have wanted them to make a big deal of it, but Hogsmeade would be closed for the day and every room in the tiny village had been booked by those who arrived early for the funeral. The Minister himself and a small group of his guards where staying somewhere in the castle, which was a good enough reason for Amanda to ensure that she was outside the castle as often as possible.
Perhaps this was why, not an hour before the funeral was due to start, Amanda could be found standing by the lake, fingering the necklace she'd worn so long. It still shone merrily in the sunlight, silently mocking her attempts to break it. She'd bashed it against walls, slammed it in doors, even threw it in the fireplace numerous times, but there wasn't a scratch on it.
There was nothing left to do but simply try to get rid of it. She wondered briefly if Severus had put a charm on it so that it would return to her if she lost it, before drawing her arm back and hurling it as far into the forest as possible.
The large sapphire glittered brightly before it vanished under the dark foliage, landing somewhere with a dull thunk. For one frantic moment Amanda wanted nothing more than to run into the forest and find it, but the moment passed, leaving her feeling once again hurt and betrayed. And bereft of one of her last sources of comfort. The sapphire necklace had been a source of comfort for well over a decade, but she couldn't keep it now, not when it reminded her so much of Him.
"Traitorous bastard…" she muttered.
It was childish to call him names, and especially pointless considering her couldn't hear her anyways. But it seemed habits from early childhood were hard to break, and it felt oddly satisfying. Although if someone else were to call him a name in front of her she was liable to either break down crying or punch someone.
Unknown arms suddenly wrapped around her and pulled her into their chest. Amanda's fingers went automatically to her wand before she realized that it would do no good and she just stood limply in their grip. Their hold was gentle and warm, and whoever it was smelt slightly of brimstone… like dragons… Charlie!
"It's going to be alright, Amy," he whispered, turning her around so her face was buried in his chest.
"I keep telling people that," she said lightly, smirking even through the storm of emotions whirling inside her, telling her he was wrong. "They didn't believe me anymore than I believe you."
"And here I thought you trusted me!" he said mockingly.
"How can it be alright Charlie?" she asked, and suddenly there was no mocking laughter to hide the pain in either of them.
"You're here," he said softly. "I'm here, your mother, my parents, the order. We're all still here."
"For how much longer?" she asked bitterly.
"As long as it takes," he said firmly.
"You can't guarantee that."
"No," he said softly. "But, as corny as it sounds, I still hold on to hope."
"I'm running out of things to hold on to," she whispered, sounding lost.
"Then I'll hold on to you," he said, pulling her even closer and enveloping her in his warm arms yet again.
Amanda just relaxed into his hold, more than willing to lose herself in the comfort he provided. But a sudden sound behind her ruined the moment, making her jump and turn around quickly in Charlie's arms.
"What?" he asked, tightening his grip when Amanda continued to scan the forest around them.
"I'm not sure, I thought I heard something."
When, after a few more moments of scanning the trees, they still saw nothing, Charlie started to pull her away, back to the castle so Amanda could lead the Ravenclaws to the funeral.
She passed her mother on the way in, already leading the somber Gryffindors out onto the grounds. They were followed by closely Professor Sprout, for once not covered in dirt, and then Professor Slughorn. Many of the Slytherins looked sad, but many of them had an almost smug expression hidden in their eyes. Amanda motioned her Ravenclaws forward, not really leading them anywhere, just trailing after the others.
Professor McGonagall led them silently down to the lake, where a large number of people were already waiting. She spotted Fleur and the Weasley's, already seated near the front. Some ways away sat Madame Maxime, with Amanda's god child and her family. Kingsley sat not far away, along with Mad-eye, Remus and Tonks.
But Amanda didn't join any of them; instead she sat near the back, next to a silver bearded man with bright blue eyes. They were on the very edge, where an overhanging tree nearly hid them from sight. She grimly realized that he had probably done this on purpose.
"You came," she said softly, surprised.
"Well," the gruff voice of Aberforth the barman spat out, soft so only she could hear. "I knew you'd be hounding me if I didn't show up."
He cast a sideways glance at her, his eyes softening considerably.
"How've you been doing?"
She shrugged. "As well as can be expected."
"Your magic?"
She shook her head, grimacing slightly when she recalled her failed attempts to clean up the messes she'd left behind after her rage filled tantrums. Aberforth sighed and shook his head before looking back up to the front, the ceremony had begun.
From their places just under the surface of the lake the merpeople began to sing. It was haunting, almost as beautiful as the lament Fawkes had sung them just before he'd disappeared, no longer able to exist in a world without his master. It really was too bad she couldn't have followed him, all she ha left now of the magnificent bird were a few feathers and the small vial of his tears she'd collected.
Hagrid began to walk up the aisle, carrying a bundle wrapped in velvet. Amanda looked away, knowing Dumbledore's body lay within. Everyone had turned to watch Hagrid now, no longer listening to the haunting music from the lake. At the front she could see the Minister, Scrimgeour, and his entourage. She saw Umbridge, Fudge, Rita Skeeter, and many others who she recognized but didn't care to place. She wondered how many of them truly cared that Dumbledore was gone.
All at once it became too much and Amanda jumped up, silently moving around Aberforth and into the trees. The look Aberforth spared her was enough to let her know that he had known she would leave, and had picked the spot so that she could slip away unnoticed. He really was more like his brother than either of them would ever admit; they always seemed to know what others were feeling and needed.
It seemed the whole forest had come to watch; she passed the centaurs, who had bowed their heads in respect to Dumbledore; she passed the thestrals and unicorns, looking both eerie and majestic standing side by side; not far away sat a number of Bowtruckles, their stick like limbs almost hiding them from her view; there were even several Hippogriffs standing some ways away, tossing their heads in distress. Amanda didn't know if all the creatures assembled were really there for Dumbledore, or if they had just been called forward by curiosity from the large crowd. But either way it was touching.
Carlisle detached himself from his herd and followed Amanda into the forest, followed shortly by Ash. Together the three old friends made their way farther and farther away from where Dumbledore was being laid to rest. Amanda had no intention of missing it entirely; however, she would never disrespect the great man so much. But she did hope he wouldn't mind her having to get away from the crowd.
It didn't take long for the small group to reach the cliff overlooking the lake, the same place Amanda had escaped to many times in her childhood. From their vantage point they could clearly see Dumbledore's body, with none of the sobbing downcast faces in the way. They were just in time to see white flames burst into life over his body before changing to flow into white marble. A shower of arrows flew into the sky, the last respects from the centaurs.
Ash handed something to Amanda and she took it, staring down at the object blankly for a moment before realizing what it was. It was the same stupid rock-colored violin that Amanda had first made and given to Gryis her second day of school. She lifted it to her chin and tuned it carefully before turning back to look over the lake and to Dumbledore's now marble encased body.
The music that flowed from the violin seemed to encompass all the feelings that had been raging inside her since that fateful night. She played rage, fast, deep notes that had her glaring at the sky; she played longing, sweet, bitter notes that hung in the air long after she had moved on; there was hope, notes played softly, almost lost amongst the rest of the music; but nothing about the entire piece could be called happy, for there was no happiness in her music now, only a release.
She didn't notice that the crowd could hear her, and she would never know that a small crowd remained behind to listen to her tune. The small group that remained were those that had been closest to Dumbledore, Minerva, Hagrid, the staff, Harry, and several others. It was almost as if they were having their own private funeral, just Dumbledore and his closest friends, the way it should have been.
Long after Amanda had lost feeling in her fingers and the tears stopped flowing she finally lowered her instrument and handed it back to Ash, who disappeared back into the forest shortly after. Amanda let Carlisle guide her to a soft patch of grass and settled herself against the warm unicorns flank, welcoming the peaceful sleep she felt herself falling into.
Severus sighed but couldn't find it in himself to turn away. He'd felt the need to return, just once more. She'd nearly hit him with the necklace when she'd thrown it, it had flown merely inches from his face and hit the trunk of the tree just behind him. When Charlie had taken her in his arms it had taken all his will not to run forward and forcibly remove the younger man as the beast inside him was roaring for him to do.
She looked so peaceful, sleeping beside the unicorn, a drastic change from the furious look she'd worn when throwing away his necklace and the lost look she'd been wearing since.
He wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, just one last time. But there was nothing he could do with the unicorn so protectively gazing around. Instead Severus carefully backtracked until he was free from the forest and walked away, slipping the necklace into his pocket thoughtfully. Perhaps one day he could return it to her, provided of course they both survived the coming years. He doubted she would ever forgive him, but he could hope. It was all he could do now.
I am so sorry it took this long. I have a really good excuse too! My dad, who decided he would "fix" my computer for me, formatted the thing! I lost this whole story! Which really sucks because I had a perfect ending written, really touching… Anyways, I'm back, thank you all for reviewing. Have I mentioned you guys are awesome? And I'm sorry this chapter was so boring, but it wasn't exactly something I could leave out, it had some important tid-bits in there!
