Chapter Three

The first thing that Amaryllis noticed when she started to come around again was the feeling of a soft pillow under her head and smooth, clean blankets around her. She decided immediately that this must be one of her dreams and snuggled herself further down into the blankets, but after a few moments she realized that none of her dreams ever had quite that smell of daisies and baking bread floating through them. So, she cautiously opened her eyes and sat up against the pillows, taking stock of her surroundings.

The quilt on her bed was primarily pale green, which matched the walls and curtains. The walls were dotted with Quidditch posters, most notably the Wigtown Wanderers. The windows were all halfway opened, and a cool zephyr blew through, fluttering the curtains. There were a bookcase and a desk along one wall; the desk was covered in parchments and schoolbooks, and the bookcase was about half-full of novels and half-full of old and battered toys: a teddy-bear with one ear sat next to a toy broom that had half of the bristles pulled out. A camp bed was set up in the center of the room, neatly made. A school trunk sat off to one side, the lid propped against the wall, with a few jumpers hanging over the side, as though someone had been rummaging through it to find something under them and ran off after the object had been found. The wood floor was mostly uncovered, save for the very faded green and blue braided rug in the center of the room. To Amaryllis, it seemed like a scene out of a storybook, or perhaps an elaborate dream.

As she pushed the quilt and blankets off, she noticed that she was in her shift: a thin, once-white dress with no sleeves that stopped at mid-thigh. As she set her feet on the floor and prepared to test them and see if they could take her weight, the door opened, revealing the dark-haired boy who had thanked her at breakfast. She blushed and hurriedly thrust her legs under the covers.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I thought you were still out."

"How long," Amaryllis started, then had to swallow a few times and cough feebly to assuage the dryness in her throat. "How long was I asleep, sir? If you don't mind my asking."

The boy smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's all right; you don't have to call me sir or ask permission or anything. You've been here for about five hours: after the man who ran the inn knocked you out, Mrs. Weasley shouted at him for a bit and told him she was taking you home, and then she made him get your things – your books are somewhere on Ginny's desk - and she washed your clothes, they're drying right now." He took a breath and smiled again. "We've been coming in to check on you since we brought you in. Ginny thought she was going to have to sleep on the sofa downstairs tonight."

Amaryllis's head swirled. This new place – the new names – the one thing she knew was that she owed these people so much, she ought to start working for them right away. "Thank you very much." She bit off the sir she'd been planning to add right away as he seemed to not want the title. "Could you – could you please tell me where I am? And who all of you are?"

"Oh – this is the Burrow, it's the Weasleys' house. They're the family I was with. We were taking a bit of a holiday, just for a few days, but they cut it off to take you home. It's all right," he said quickly as she started to look slightly faint, "you haven't ruined anything, Ron and Ginny were just talking about how much they didn't like it there. The other girl, with the brown hair, that was Hermione Granger. And I'm Harry Potter."

Amaryllis went pale. "You're not."

He seemed a little puzzled. "Yes, I am. I should know."

"You can't – I mean, Harry Potter is not sitting on my bed while I'm in my underwear."

His smile vanished. "I really am sorry – do you want me to go?"

"No! I mean, no, it's quite all right. You can stay if you want to."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Amaryllis watched as Harry began picking at his fingernails. After about ten minutes – which felt like ten hours – the door opened again, and one of the red-haired boys came in. He was tall and lanky, with broad shoulders and a smattering of freckles.

"Harry, Mum sent me up to –" He broke off. "Blimey, you're awake."

"Oh, this is Ron," Harry said, gesturing at the boy. "Yeah," he said to Ron, "she just woke up. What does your mum want?"

"Hi," said Ron. "It's lunch-time. What's your name?"

"I'm Amaryllis," she said, and smiled up at him. "Amaryllis Black."

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