A/N: Right now I am really bored, so I decided to type the next chapter! Amaya is writing on one of her numerous stories, and I was doing absolutely nothing. Imagine that.
Disclaimer: Wow. We actually get to say that we own things in this story. We own ourselves, of course, and all of the wonderful and original pairings that we have come up with. We still can't say that we own anything else, though, as in Harry Potter, or any of his hott guy friends or enemies…(Shouts very rude words at the top of her lungs)
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Chapter Eight:
"You can leave now." Amaya spat at Harry, who had seated himself at the edge of her bed and refused to get up, no matter how much she complained.
He shook his head. "Nope. Can't do that until you tell me the truth about why you don't like me. No lies this time. Come on, tell me." He demanded.
Amaya glared at him. Sometimes she wished that looks could actually kill…But as they didn't, "Fine. You want the truth? I'll tell you. Because you are Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, famous for absolutely nothing significant. Nothing! And everyone worships you like you were actually the one to get rid of that git Voldemort! As is you stood up as a one year old baby and put a curse on him with your pacifier or something." She finished, anger spilling out of her every feature.
He looked taken aback. He had expected something ridiculous, but this was beyond stupid! Fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over the brims of his eyes, he gathered himself as his sadness turned to anger.
"That is ridiculous! Do you think I chose that? That I wanted Voldemort to come and murder my parents before I even got a chance to know them? That I asked for the nightmares that plague my dreams every night, and to have a connection to one of the most hideous beings in the world! No I didn't! I didn't ask for any of it and I would gladly give back all of this…this stupid fame if it meant that I would have one more minute to spend with my parents, that I might get to have a family for once in my life. You, like everyone else, have no idea what it's like to be Harry Potter!" He finished, getting to his feet and heading to the door.
Amaya just stared at him for a minute, regretting everything she had said. She didn't have any idea that he felt all of that. She had a weird feeling in her stomach…Was that regret? She had never experienced regret in her life.
"Well, if that's all you can do is stare at me like I'm dumb, then I'll be going." As he reached for the door knob, she bolted out of the bed and walked over to him. She had the sudden urge to hug him, to take him into her arms and show him that somebody could care for him.
Instead, however, she just stood there, hand on the door preventing him from leaving as she tried to keep herself from fainting. She looked him in the eyes. The loss and sadness she saw there were more tremendous than anyone's she had ever looked in before. Well, except her own, of course.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I really had no idea." She said at last.
He looked away towards the window. "I don't want your pity. I get enough of that, thanks."
She followed his gaze. "It's not pity." She said. "I promise. I am really and truly sorry. I just though, well, I thought that you would love the fame and the glory. That you would be some spoilt little rich boy. When you came here and you weren't, I sort of felt bad and I guess I took my anger out on you." She looked at her feet ashamedly.
"Why in the world does everyone think that I actually enjoy the fact that my parent's were murdered and the whole world knows about it? And, yes, I'll admit that I do have a small fortune left to me by my mum and dad, but I only use what I need of it." He said, looking at her. She looked so different standing there, a sad expression on her face. A change from the normal hard look that she bore. She looked almost…vulnerable. Prettier even, than before, if that were possible.
"I guess we think that because we are a bunch of greedy idiots that would do just that if we were put in your shoes." she said sadly, continuing her gaze on the floor.
He cupped her chin in his hand, afraid for a minute that she would pull back into her protective shell. When she didn't, however, he smiled. "Are we over that now?" He asked, smirking.
She smiled, too. "Yes, if you can ever forgive me for acting so ignorant."
"I can do that. After all, Ron Weasley is my friend. If I can handle the hard headed idiot that he is, I think I can handle you. What do you say we start over?" He asked.
She held out her hand in agreement. "Fine. Amaya Dante."
He took it, saying in return, "Harry Potter, pleased to meet you."
She swayed a bit, catching herself on the door.
"Whoa, there. You need you rest, Ms. Dante." He told her, helping her back to her bed. Kissing her on the hand, he smiled at her. "See you tomorrow." And he turned and left the room.
Amaya smiled to herself as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
She slept in peace for quite a long time. Until a kamikaze yell woke her from her slumber, followed by a body landing on her.
"Get up! Get up! Get up!"
"Spirit," Amaya growled, "Get the hell off of me!"
Spirit smiled. "Nope. Time to get up." She said as she began bouncing up and down on the bed on her knees.
Amaya groaned and pulled the covers over her head. "I thought your ankle was sprained." She mumbled from under the sheets.
"She wouldn't leave me alone until I healed it for her." Blaze said, joining her friend on the edge of the bed. "I tried to tell her that Dr. Rice wanted it to heal on it's own, but she swore up and down that it would hurt her 'image', whatever that means." Blaze finished.
Amaya shook her head and swore. "Only Spirit." She said. She took her head out of the covers only to see both Blaze and Spirit smiling stupidly at her. "What?" She demanded. "Why are you smiling at me like that?"
"No reason." Blaze said, quickly.
"Yep. No reason at all." Spirit supplied.
Amaya glanced from one to the other. "Why do I have great difficulty believing you two?" She asked skeptically.
Spirit smiled. "Because you are a naturally mistrusting person." Earning her an elbow to the side from Blaze. "What?" She asked innocently, rubbing her ribs.
"Shut up." Blaze told her through gritted teeth.
"Why?"
"Because your not helping any, that's why."
"Oh, ok." Spirit said, zipping her lips shut and throwing away the invisible key.
Amaya rolled her eyes. "Will one of you two please tell me what's going on?" Spirit made a motion as if to tell her that she couldn't speak, and Blaze simply ignored her for a minute, before finally breaking down.
"Fine. I'll tell you. Harry mentioned something of a truce between you two, is all."
"Yes, he told everyone at breakfast. Seemed thrilled about it, actually." Hermione said as she entered the hospital room. "How are you doing?" She asked Amaya.
"Fine, thanks."
"I was going to come see you last night, but by the time I finished in the library, everyone was back and Harry said you were resting."
Amaya smiled mischievously. "Aww. Did ya miss me?"
"Actually, I did sort of miss your incessive whining this morning while I was getting ready for classes." Hermione teased.
Amaya's smile fell. "Crap!" She said. "I missed my very first detention of the year!"
Blaze patted her shoulder. " That's alright. I'm sure you can score another one by tonight."
Her smile returned as she grinned mischievously. "So, what class do we have first?"
"Get out your books and turn to page 167 immediately." Snape boomed. "I want every…" He was interrupted as the door swung open and Amaya strode in nonchalantly.
"Good morning, Mr. Snape." She said, taking her seat.
Snape sneered. "It's Professor Snape, not Mr."
She smiled. "Oh, you have a PhD, then? It's comforting to know that we have such smart teachers."
"Take out your book and turn to page 167, now." Snape hissed.
Amaya smirked. "Don't mind if I do." She said. Looking beside her, she spotted Harry. "Hello, Harry." She said.
"Hi." He mumbled without moving his lips, a skill he had adopted for this class in particular.
"What was that?" Amaya asked, purposefully being loud.
"Miss…" Snape began, but was interrupted yet again.
"Dante. Amaya Dante." Amaya said, a smirk on her lips.
"Miss Dante, I would appreciate it if you would kindly refrain from excessive talking as I do not allow that in my class." He barked.
"Whatever you say, Mr. Snape." Amaya said, leaning back in her chair.
"Professor." Snape drawled menacingly.
Amaya smiled and looked at him with her best innocent face. "I'm not a professor."
"I know that," Snape growled. "I do not want to hear another word from you."
"Okey- Dokey."
"Detention!" Snape yelled.
"Yes!" Amaya said, jumping up from her seat and doing a sort of victory dance.
Snape just stared at her, dumbstruck by her actions. His shock only lasted about a minute or so though and his expression went back to being grim and evil. "Get. Out. Now." he said, pointing at the door.
Amaya smiled at Harry. "I don't think he likes me." She said, before strolling out of the room, every pair of eyes in class watching her, amazed that she had managed to piss Snape off so quickly.
Amaya went to the giant pond behind the school after she left the Chemistry class. She sat down on the bank beside of a giant Oak tree and pulled her things out of her bag. Although she didn't like school, she still had to do the work, and Blaze refused to do it all for her.
She was so caught up in the complex problems that she didn't notice when someone approached behind her. "Oy, Amaya. Fancy seeing you here." A male voice said. She turned to face Oliver Wood, the new P.E. teacher. "Skiving another class, I see."
"Depends," Amaya answered, "On what 'skiving' means."
"Uh, skipping, I think." He said.
Amaya smiled. "Then, actually, no. I got kicked out."
Oliver placed a hand over his chest in mock surprise. "You? Who would kick a girl like you out of class?"
Amaya chuckled. "That old grease pit, Snape."
"Oooohhh. I see now. Crazy old bugger, he is." Oliver looked out over the grounds for a moment before continuing. "You have to stop skipping P.E., Amaya. I can't pass you if you don't come."
Amaya thought for a minute before answering. "So," she drawled slowly, "If I come, you'll pass me?"
"Yes."
"Promise?"
"I swear."
Amaya stuck out her hand. "Then you have yourself a deal, Mr. Wood."
Oliver shook her hand and smiled. "Deal," he said happily. Leaning closer, he said, "Now, tell me about Blaze."