BOOK 2: CHAPTER 30

Severus was late for dinner. He was never late for anything. Amelia glanced at the wall clock for the tenth time and took a nervous breath. Her appetite had faded, as she watched each minute tick by. The conversation around her quickly became a blurry buzz of nothingness. Something was not right.

Finally, she rose from the table, handed Severus Jr. to Harry, and hurried out to find her husband.

Walking down the quiet corridors, she shivered. Something felt wrong. Was he ill? Everything was so quiet. The walls seemed to watch her. The air was so still. Not a single student passed. The windows seemed to stare with their blank eyes.

Concentrating hard, for the halls still had a way of tricking her, she expertly navigated several twists and turns and down the final set of curving steps toward his laboratory. At the end of those stairs was a faint light.

Sighing in relief, she smiled. But then that relief faded.

The yellow. Just a bit coming from some crack underneath or through the door. Yellow. Well, what was wrong with it? What harm was in a bit of yellow light? Get a hold of yourself, Amelia. You can't be afraid of that light forever. Albus was right. She'd been overreacting. Perhaps It was time to face her fears. It was probably just his desk lamp, anyway.

Slowly, she inched toward it, her throat contracting painfully with each step.

There was the door - unhinged just a bit. The yellow light shown from beneath. She paused in sick reluctance.

"Amelia…"

Was that Severus' voice? It was deep and rich, but something was lacking. Oh, Amelia, please stop the melodrama. Stop it. You're always over-reacting. You're such a chaotic, mixed-up, bad, evil, abomination…

Her head began to pound. The door swung a bit farther open and more light escaped. She couldn't stop looking at it. It was drawing her in. Almost as if it were magnetic.

The familiar nausea began to creep over her but she refused to stop. No. She would not run. She was so tired of running. Had she been not been running most of her life? It certainly felt that way. Running to Hogwarts; running away. Running back; running down the halls. Running. No more.

Reluctantly, she opened the door a little more; a little more; a little more and stepped into the glare.

When she entered, the yellow light was screaming everywhere. Like the sun had fallen out of the sky, right into this room.

But it was so bright. Where was the soothing darkness; the wonderful shadows; the scary blackness. Where were the chairs? Where were the desks?

And why was it so small? There was a sink. And a mirror. And a bathtub. And a horrible, yellow fluorescent light bulb that seemed to absorb the entire ceiling. Had she gone the wrong way and stepped into an unknown bathroom?

But she knew, with sickening clarity, that this place wasn't unfamiliar. It was her bathroom. Not at Hogwarts. In Topeka.

She raked her hands through her hair and turned to leave, but the door slammed shut with a boom.

A tall figure rose up from behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You neglected her," his voice suggested smoothly. "And you killed her."

Arms limp at her sides, she stood, staring in horror. Not a trace of black. No wonderful black in sight. Just yellow. And white. Horrible, nauseating, glaring white. Her uniform.

A man she hadn't seen for nearly two years stood beside her, towering over her like a strange specter of himself. His eyes were a piercing blue. Not the warm, wonderful blue of her mother's. A cold, cruel, arrogant blue.

"Were too you busy with your alchemy to notice that she needed you?" Her father hissed. "Or just too busy walking cornfields and smearing that black on your eyes?"

Amelia stood, speechless and numb. Suddenly, she'd forgotten the English language. She'd also forgotten a certain trademark bitterness in his voice. Now it came rushing back like a sick, red tide.

"You're a horrible mistake," he said in a fierce growl. "You should be on your knees begging for forgiveness."

Her mouth fell open and tears sprang into her eyes.

"You neglected her. You killed her."

Her eyes were pools of tears. "No. I didn't. You left us. You should have been here with us. I was taking good care of her."

The tears streamed down her cheeks, staining her pale, blotchy face.

"I had to work. She was sick. I had to keep money in the bank. I had to keep our insurance going. She needed so much medicine."

"Rationalization doesn't become you."

"Stop it!" she screamed, her hands balling into fists. "Stop it!"

There was some sort of booming, as if a door had flown open, but she could see nothing beyond the glare of the light.

"This was all your fault," he hissed. "You neglected her horribly. Because of you, she killed herself. She's burning in a lake of fire - because of you. Your own husband is fighting for his powers – because of you. Everything is because of you."

"No," Amelia whispered, clutching her throat.

Suddenly, she remembered. The yellow bathroom light; the white sink. The pink sink. The red sink. Crimson splashes on the carpet. Blackness on the grass.

Red and white. Red over white. Over her white uniform. No chicken wire. No chicken wire at all.

"You couldn't even kill yourself right the first time. Do something right, Amelia." He smiled horribly and held up something silver.

Slowly, he passed her a gleaming straight razor. When he reached out to her, she saw the mark on his arm. The mark Severus had once shown her on his own arm.

Emotions and thoughts began to spin in her head, and her stomach knotted into a hard rock. Vaguely, she could hear someone's voice rise her way again, but no longer discerned any words.

"You even went and had a child," he sneered. "You, who cause devastation everywhere you go." His eyes glittered. "How can you possibly think you could care for a husband and a child?"

"You know about the baby?" she managed, her eyes wild with pain. Stifling the sob in her throat, she covered her ears, but his hands grasped her hands and wrenched them away.

"Nobody wants you. Not really. They say they do, but they don't. You know how tired they look. You see the regret in their eyes. Do everyone a favor. Do it right this time."

With tears rushing in rivers from her eyes, she nodded. "All right."

"Amelia…"

Turning, she glimpsed someone dark at the end of the steps…somewhere beyond this death room.

Smashing her eyes shut, she lifted the razor, sliced down across her artery, and stumbled toward the voice.