Four.
The first two weeks had gone by quickly. Professors wasted no time assigning projects and essays to students. Elliot's OWL and Edgar's NEWT preparation had already begun stressing the male Bones children out. It usually wasn't until late November when they started pulling all-nighters. Clearly, it was going to be an interesting year.
Emmeline spent much of her time with Amos, who insisted she accompany him to Romania during the winter holidays to meet with scouting Quidditch teams. She told him that she would ask her parents which really meant that she would ask Mrs. Bones, who at this point, was who she was residing with during the winter holidays.
The other houses were back to their usual antics. The Gryffindors were, once again, involving themselves with unnecessary conflict. One said rivalry was between third years James Potter and Severus Snape. In one week alone Benjy and Amelia had broken up three confrontations between them.
Speaking of Slytherins, besides the aforementioned, they had been keeping a low profile. In accepting her position as Prefect, Amelia had anticipated stepping on their emerald toes. But no such misfortune had fallen across her path – unless she counted her bickering with Malfoy two weeks earlier.
The extent of her duties included taking charge of confrontational situations, reporting any incidents of misconduct back to Professor Flitwick and patrolling the corridors in the immediate area of the Ravenclaw Tower on her designated nights. Lucky for Amelia, that meant spending her stolen time in the Library, which was in said area. The previous year, as Amelia had spent nearly all of her free time in the library studying for OWLs, she begged Madame Prince to keep the library open all night. To which the librarian replied, 'then when would I get any sleep?' Feeling sorry for the almond-eyed scholar, Madame Prince finally figured out a way to make everyone happy by February. With permission from the Headmaster, Madame Prince offered Amelia the keys to the library each night promptly at ten. The Ravenclaw was to let no one, not even her parents know, about her granted gift. Madame Prince would leave the library, appearing to have locked the doors while Amelia sat hunched over a book on Advanced Charms, hell-bent on memorizing every charm known to wizard-kind.
This year with a bit of persuasion, Amelia was granted the same gift. 'But you don't have large scale exams this year.' Madame Prince had said. 'That's no reason not to prepare!' Amelia had protested. 'Just because you're not playing in a Quidditch match is no reason not to practice.'
And so, on a Thursday evening at nine thirty, Amelia sat working diligently on her Charms Essay, 'What I Know About Charms This Far.' Professor Flitwick had given his students, of all years, the same assignment. He assigned the same prompt every year. He claimed hat it gave him a better understanding of what ground to cover in his classes. So far, Amelia's paper was thirteen pages and she was just wrapping up her section on fourth year material.
Dipping her quill in her inkwell once again, Amelia glanced briefly at the shelf of books adjacent from where she sat. She stopped and had to look again, nearly dropping her quill. She would, unfortunately, recognize those features anywhere. Lucius Malfoy stood between a row of book shelves and through the various holes and crevices between books, he appeared to be looking at her. A moment of panic would have set in had she not heard Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be standing in front of Malfoy – not that she could see him. She sighed, thankful that the barely three-feet tall Professor was there. At the squeaky voice, Malfoy's eyes darted back down to the teacher. Just the same, Amelia looked back down at her paper. Her ears, however, could not help but perk up at the conversation between the two men.
"Mr. Malfoy," the Charms Professor said in his high pitched voice, "this is a serious matter!"
"I understand that, sir." Malfoy said, somewhat reluctantly.
"Do you? Do you really? Are you aware that your failure to pass my Charms class automatically makes you a poor candidate for passing NEWTs? Not only that, but you passed your OWLs by the skin of your teeth!" the teacher stressed. "The only reason that I gave you Advanced Placement this year was because your father," Malfoy seemingly grimaced at the word, "promised me you'd make up the lost work twofold."
"Yes, sir." He replied, almost habitually.
"Have you looked at any of the workbooks that I sent to Wiltshire over the holiday?"
"Of course." Malfoy nodded. Of course he looked at them; right before tossing them into the fireplace.
"Really?" Professor Flitwick said with mild skepticism. Malfoy had hardly done any schoolwork during the semester – doing it over the summer was quite a stretch. "Have you given any thought to getting a tutor? I suggested it last year, you know."
"Yes, sir, I have." Malfoy nodded. He knew that he needed assistance in his studies – help was not a word that he was particularly fond of. But he was limited in terms of his resources – another fact he did not want to admit. His housemates and friends were all on the negative side of the grading scale and those that weren't were too busy trying to get their Dark Mark. Truth be told, they would only make matters worse. The rest of the students in his year did either one of two things; they shied away from him out of fear or they held their nose up in snobbery. It didn't faze him. He liked being feared. And, the thought with a grim smile, when the others thought they were better than him, he laughed. If only they knew what lie ahead in the awaiting years.
The reason he had fallen so far behind was not due to his laziness. He was actually highly intelligent and was in the top percentage of his class at one point. The last year, though, he had been very busy – too tired from other activities to even begin thinking about schoolwork. He grasped the material, just not the time.
Over the past few years, he and his family had been paid several visits by a certain dark wizard. He called himself Lord Voldemort and said that He had a plan to make not only the Wizarding World, but the entire world a better place for Purebloods. The Malfoys took to the idea almost instantly. They believed in purity through and through – it was almost an obsession. The previous year, He had begun gathering followers – a wizard army. Among his circle – Death Eaters, as they came to be known – were the Lestrange family, the Black family, the Rosiers, MacNairs and the Dark Lord's most loyal court, the Malfoys.
During his sixth year, Malfoy was being looked on as Voldemort's second in command, something his longtime friend, Bellatrix, resented him for to this very day. He had the talent, the ambition, everything that was required. All he had to do was prove it. Running risky errands, targeting Blood Traitors were his simpler tasks. Among the most complex were keeping the Slytherins at Hogwarts in line and finding himself, more for his parents than for his leader, a wife.
His father insisted on Bellatrix Black for the longest time. She was a favorite of the Dark Lord and had talent beyond compare for the Dark Arts. Together, they could dominate. But Malfoy had declined. Secretly, he thought one would have to be barking mad to feel anything in the area of romantic interest for the eldest Black sister.
He preferred someone more delicate, more soft spoke and much more of a challenge. Bellatrix's younger sister, Narcissa, fit said profile to a tee. She was beautiful, a Black daughter, and most important, Pureblooded. He had sparked her interest easily. Having been a bachelor for far too long and having played the field more times than he could remember, he made her and offer and, of course, she accepted. What more could she ask for? He had everything she needed to be happy in life. It would have been foolish to say no.
Everything was going according to plan. Everything except his schoolwork. Last year, his tasks had been so daunting he had all but forgotten about his studies. A mistake he was now paying for.
"You'll be pleased to know," Malfoy said happily and convincingly, "that I have gotten someone to assist me. Highly recommended and really looking forward to the challenge."
"Good." Professor Flitwick nodded. "Who is it?"
"Excuse me?" Malfoy said, a little caught off guard. He hadn't anticipated a question of who it was that was helping him – just that the issue had been addressed should have been enough.
"I should like to meet them." He nodded. "Give them some material to go over with you that will be helpful. Now, who did you say it was?"
"That's not really important, now is it, Professor?" Malfoy stalled. "Surely you'll want to protect their privacy. My word is good. I can assure you." He said, flashing a charming smile.
"Your word, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Flitwick said with his arms folded across his chest, "is about as good as a nightfall charm in the trappings of Devil's Snare."
"I don't understand." Malfoy said with a shake of his head.
"Of course not. If you had come to class, you might take my playful insult to heart. I need a name." he pressed.
Malfoy rarely broke into a panic. He was calm in most situations, mainly because he could talk himself out of anything. He had managed to talk Professor Slughorn into giving him extra time on assignments. He had even pulled the wool over Professor McGonagall's eyes – no easy feat – by crafting a story about his father's faux illness and how he was needed at home and that a Transfiguration essay could surely wait a few days in the scheme of things.
However, he had lied to Professor Flitwick enough and time was running out.
"A name, Mr. Malfoy." He said, his voice suddenly stern.
He needed someone intelligent, of course, with whom he had no real problem with in the past. They couldn't be too close to him, lest the blow his cover. Someone cunning enough to play along. Someone he could offer something in return.
"She's right over there." Malfoy said, nodding toward Amelia.
Amelia froze, able to feel both pairs of eyes on her. She kept her head down, pretending to be in deep and concentrated thought. Surely Malfoy was out of his mind.
"Amelia?" Professor Flitwick said, more to himself than anyone else and he and Malfoy fell into the brunette's peripheral vision.
"Yes?" Amelia and Malfoy said in unison. Her to the calling of her name, him for verification.
Professor Flitwick cast a skeptic glance at Malfoy just before focusing his eyes on one of his most prized students. Running through the facts that Malfoy had just provided him with, he straightened up and offered a smile.
"Amelia." He said again, more pleasantly this time. "Mr. Malfoy here had been telling me about your plans together."
"He has, has he?" Amelia said lightly, raising an eyebrow for effect. "All good, I hope."
"So far." He nodded, his beard sweeping the ground. "I just wanted to make sure that you know what you're getting yourself into."
"Professor, please." Malfoy said quickly. "You wouldn't want to berate her with questions-"
"Mr. Malfoy." Professor Flitwick said gently. "Please. Let Miss Bones speak for herself."
"Yes, sir." Malfoy knew exactly what the Professor was trying to do. He wanted to trip the Ravenclaw up and catch him in the act. He kept his stare on the girl, hoping his demand was conveyed.
"Amelia?" Professor Flitwick prompted.
Amelia cast a look to both men, deciding which path to chose. She knew that telling the truth was best – it was always best. If there was one thing that she hated, it was lying. However, there was the chance that she could help him pass. It was slim but it was there. But who was she kidding. She, a sixth year, was not adept to teach him, a seventh year.
Closing her book shut, Amelia stood up, straightening out the cuffs on her blouse. Feeling much like Robert Frost, her favorite muggle poet, she took the road less traveled.
"Well Professor," She began, her voice clear and sharp, "I understand that Mr. Malfoy's performance in your class has been less than satisfactory in the past. While he has reminded me time and time again that he is determined to get back on track, I feel that nothing less than intense study sessions should be conducted. He has potential, as you know. It's just a matter of unlocking it." She finished, sliding a glace at Malfoy who, beneath his placid exterior, was shocked at the believability of her performance.
"As I've told you." Malfoy said, taking a step beside Amelia, putting his arm comfortably on her shoulder. "My word is good."
Professor Flitwick raised his eyebrows in both curiosity and relief. Malfoy was known to be elaborate in his dedication – so much so that when he wound up bust, even the most respectable professors were dumbfounded. The idea of his partnership with Amelia could very well be another tall tale. However, Amelia was one of his best and most talented students. To question her character would mean questioning his trust in her – which stood solid.
"Very well. I trust that you'll use only the most advanced of texts." He nodded.
"Nothing less." Amelia said firmly.
"Have him up to his required standard, Miss Bones, and you may find yourself a candidate for Head Girl next year." He said with a wink as Amelia's lips broke out into a grin. "Weekly reports on my desk each Friday. Stop by my office tomorrow after class and we'll talk more. If you have any questions, you know where to find me." He said shortly, leaving Amelia and Malfoy to themselves, his arm still on her shoulder.
"Bravo, Bones." Malfoy whispered into her ear when the Charms professor was out of both eye and earshot.
Amelia quickly shoved Malfoy away from her, causing him to stumble but only slightly.
"Give me one good reason not to tell Professor Flitwick that you put me up to this." Amelia said, gathering her things.
Straightening his tie and jacket from where she had touched him, Malfoy cleared his throat.
"I had no idea you harbored such strength in that little body of yours." He said condescendingly.
"And I had no idea that you possessed such little knowledge in that dome of yours." She retorted calmly, fastening the clasp of her bag. "I have half a mind to tell him that you put me under a spell to agree to this but judging by your intellectual state, you wouldn't know how to do so anyway."
"Touché." Malfoy said with a smirk.
Amelia did not know Malfoy well but she was not stupid and neither was he. She knew for herself that he was one of the smartest in his year whether or not his grades reflected it. Whatever he had done in the last two years – which she suspected had something to do with the Dark Lord – had landed him in serious trouble. She didn't want details, but she did want a good reason for volunteering all her time.
"Stop avoiding the questions. It's unbecoming." Amelia said, folding her arms across her chest.
"Come off it, Bones. Your affection for me is undeniable. You just itching to spend copious amounts of time me with." Malfoy said, leaning against the desk her belongings were sitting on.
"Right." Amelia nodded weakly. "And after that I think I'll swallow glass."
"You're going to make this all kinds of interesting aren't you?" Malfoy cooed.
"Not if you don't tell me why I'm doing this in the first place." Amelia said just as smoothly, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"Why can't you just be flattered that I've chosen you for all of this?" Malfoy said with a light shrug.
"Okay then." Amelia said, turning to walk away. She would not play petty games with him. If he wanted her help, then he would be upfront and honest. Otherwise, he could find another puppet to play with.
"Wait, wait." Malfoy said, grabbing her by the arm to stop her.
"Please, don't touch me." Amelia said, jerking her arm back into her airspace.
Malfoy's face looked heavy. His face wasn't exactly gaunt but he looked much older than his seventeen years should have suggested. He looked stressed, pained almost. There were faint bags under his eyes and his hair was slightly tasseled. He ran a hand over his face before touching her elbow lightly.
"Bones," he began slowly, "I don't have many options right now-"
"That's not my problem. I didn't spend the two most important years of my career as a student doing Merlin knows what with Merlin knows who." She said in a harsh whisper.
"I do not need this right now." Malfoy muttered under his breath.
"There are a lot of things you don't need right now. A certain marking being one of them-"
Malfoy automatically clapped his hand over her mouth out of habit. When anyone in his house, his friends or otherwise, mentioned anything about the Dark Lord, it was his instinct to keep them quiet. For a moment, he forgot that Amelia was not one of his housemates; the banter they exchanged was so familiar, almost eerie. He pulled his hand back just as quickly and offered an apologetic look. Amelia, who was both offended and concerned, looked at him patiently.
"I want an answer."
He let out a heavy sigh and mulled over how to best determine that he required her help because he was too busy spending all of his time aiding in the destruction of the Wizard World. Perhaps that was not the best way to word it. He was too proud most days and did not like admitting his own failures, even though she was clearly aware of them. Amelia turned to leave again and just like before, he took hold of her but this time he didn't let go.
"I need you." was all he said.
Amelia herself was a person of pride and she saw how much it took for him to admit that he needed help. She supposed that he did have enough to worry about with the added insults from her. Then again, why should she be making excuses for his poor decisions?
Amelia took a deep breath before ripping her arm away from him. She smoothed out her skirt and blouse and tucked her hair behind her ears. She closed her eyes before replying,
"Three hours each day, five on the weekends. You'll schedule Quidditch and all other activities around these times. You fail to show up once and I'm finished, no exceptions." She opened her eyes to find Malfoy who looked relieved. He tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded. "Don't make me regret this."
Malfoy said nothing and watched as she adjusted the strap on her satchel. In the silence, Amelia looked at the boy – well, man – closely for the first time. He was tall and strong and reminded her in several ways of her own brother. He was commanding and he had a presence. But he was also arrogant and selfish and she wondered why she was bestowing such a kind act on someone who only thought about himself. Then again, her reasons for helping him were, in part, fueled by Professor Flitwick's mention of Head Girl.
"I won't." he said with a nod.
For a moment, Amelia remembered the boy's words to Professor Flitwick; my word is good. She hoped so.
Before Amelia could make an excuse to exit or set up a time to meet with him the following day, she heard arguing back and forth in the far corner of the library. She and Malfoy both looked in the direction of the noise. Realizing that it was her two favorite third years, James and Severus, Amelia let out a giant huff and threw her bag down on the table. She marched to where they stood and grabbed James by his cloak.
"Honestly. The two of you can't even go a day without starting something." She said pulling him to where Malfoy stood.
"Oy! Lia!" James said in protest using her nickname, something, she learned, he did to try and get on her good side. "It's not my fault this time! Honest!"
"James." Amelia said pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't want to hear it anymore."
"Well, it wasn't." The spectacled boy said, folding his arms across his chest. He cast a look at Malfoy and snorted. "Blimey! You've got detention with her too?"
Malfoy's lips cracked something that, in the right light, might resemble a smile. He looked at James, then to Amelia, then back to James before answering.
"Something like that."
Amelia rolled her eyes and turned back to James, about to award him another week's worth of detention when she heard someone mutter something that she immediately recognized as a jinx. Instinctively, she grabbed James and pushed him in back of her to protect him. But before she could make any action to protect herself, she felt hands treating her the same way she had treated James. There was hardly any light emitted from the spell but she did hear something that sounded an awful lot like a grunt right next to her ear. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she held onto James shoulders to keep him from moving.
When she opened her eyes, she felt Malfoy's cheek next to her own. He stood in back of her, his arms around her own. A sort of panic set in and Amelia wondered if the spell had come from his very own lips. Then she remembered Severus who must have cast the spell. And Malfoy blocked it with his body.
"Uhm." She said, clearing her throat, focusing on James. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah." James said, pulling away from her, eager to get a good look at his enemy.
Amelia held onto James' cloak and slowly turned to see that Malfoy had Severus by the collar of his shirt and appeared to be chastising him. She had almost forgotten that he himself was a Prefect. With James in hand, Amelia walked to where the two Slytherins stood.
"… and if you ever, ever aim another spell, hex or jinx in her direction I will snap your wand in two. Do you understand me?" Malfoy said, oblivious to the fact that Amelia and James were in earshot. He said 'her', Amelia thought to herself. He definitely said 'her'.
Malfoy turned toward Amelia and James when he had finished and straightened up.
"I think a week's worth of detention should do it." Malfoy said with a nod, casting a threatening look at Severus.
"I planned on taking them to the Headmaster." Amelia said carefully.
"Even better." Malfoy stepped aside so that they might pass.
Standing as a wedge between the two boys, Amelia nodded and turned toward the exit. She briefly wondered what she was getting herself in to. She had heard awful things about Malfoy and his involvement with the war. She knew how he treated her brother, her friends, people in general. There was nothing to respect about someone like that. But, she reasoned, maybe he wasn't all bad. No, she thought. She would not turn this into one of those situations where she felt bad for him because of his rotten circumstances. She would not let herself.
"Bones." Malfoy said before she walked out of eyesight. "What time am I to meet you?"
His face was sincere and he stood like he was listening. She closed her eyes for a moment in thought. She had said three hours every day. Merlin, why did she make it so long?
"After dinner. Here. In the library." Amelia managed to say without too much difficulty.
"I will see you then."
Amelia nodded and pushed the boys ahead of her, swatting at their hands every few moments when they tried to hit each other.
There were a lot of things Amelia knew about. She could levitate objects well into the air and above her head. She could transfigure cats into footstools. She could mix potions that could prevent fatigue. But she had no plan, no idea on how to even begin helping Malfoy. Uncertainty was a new concept to her and she wasn't sure she liked the feeling of it.
Here We Are - Breaking Benjamin