A/N Thanks for all the reviews! (the story I'm working on is Harry Potter) But I hope to get back to Amara's story soon :) Enjoy! xxx
Chapter Twenty-One
The Black Quill
Professor Umbridge managed to flush her out just after breakfast the next day. They were just walking across the entrance hall, Harry and Ron going upstairs to do homework, Amara and Hermione deciding to go talk to Hagrid, when she called out her name.
"Miss Matthews!"
"Shit," Amara whispered. She realised then that Harry, Ron and Hermione did not know what she had done to Pansy Parkinson, and all looked very confused.
"What did you do?" Ron asked.
"Tell you later," said Amara and she walked over to where Professor Umbridge was standing. She was wearing a pink and purple poncho over her robes today and looked very ugly indeed.
"Follow me to my office, please," Professor Umbridge smiled at her, in a horrible, leering way.
Amara nodded and did what she was told. Umbridge was silent all the way to her office and Amara did not speak either.
The office, which was Moody's last year, was very different from the night Amara got slung against the wall by the imposter. In fact, it was unrecognisable – it was pink and every surface had a horrible lacy cloths. There were dried flowers in vases (Amara assumed that Umbridge couldn't keep live ones because she could kill them easily) and horrible ornamental plates on the walls, each with a kitten on it with a different coloured bow. It was a sickening sight and Amara looked away quickly, but her gaze fell on Umbridge, and her sickening feeling doubled.
"I have recently gained knowledge that you attacked a fellow classmate yesterday, Miss Matthews," she simpered.
Amara swallowed and nodded, trying not to react too much.
"Miss Parkinson had to go to the Infirmary to be treated," the toad carried on. Amara tried to put on a sorry expression but failed. "I cannot let this go by unnoticed, you understand this, don't you, Miss Matthews?"
Amara hated the way she said her name, as if it was a fly that didn't taste right to her.
"Yes Professor Umbridge," said Amara primly. I'm going to kill Parkinson.
"I've decided to put you in detention for a week," continued Professor Umbridge, and Amara nearly lost her cool. A week? Unfortunately, Umbridge saw her expression.
"We need the message to not attack others to – er – sink in clearly," said Umbridge, the horrible smile now back on her face. "I'll be mentioning this to Professor McGonagall, you may go."
Amara gritted her teeth and left the room. So she had a week of getting her hand cut open. She beginning to think she would not make it to her birthday.
She did not return to Gryffindor Tower. She was already dressed to go outside, so she turned in the entrance hall and walked straight out the double doors. However, she did not go to Hagrid's either. Instead she walked across the snowy grounds, where loads of students were playing in the snow, until she saw two boys she knew.
Fred and George were standing in the snow, bewitching snowballs to hit some Slytherins down by the near-frozen lake. They spotted Amara as she approached, and saw her angry expression.
"What's the matter?" said George as she stopped in front of them.
"Umbridge gave me detention," Amara muttered. "For a week."
"A week?" repeated George, looking scandalised. "What for?"
"Punching Pansy Parkinson," said Amara, a glimmer of a smirk on her features.
"You punched –"
"That's my fault," said Fred, looking annoyed with himself. "I shouldn't've let you. It's my fault the hag caught you."
"Nah –" Amara started, but a funny plan entered her mind and she stopped. "Yeah it is. I know a way to repay that though."
Fred started to question her, but she'd already bent down, scooped up some snow and lobbed it at him.
The snowball hit Fred squarely on the face, making him splutter and stumble back.
"What the –" Fred spluttered as George burst out laughing at his shocked twin. Amara herself burst into giggles at the sight of him, and this seemed to awaken Fred from his surprise.
"You'll pay for that one!" he yelled and threw a snowball at her. She moved, so it caught her arm instead of her face. She was full on laughing now, and feeling much better. Within minutes, her and George had tackled Fred – who was proclaiming George as a traitor – to the floor and shoved snow in his face. They scuffled playfully, Amara giggling all the time they were rolling about. Then they stopped, after Fred called surrender (George had cheered and called him a wuss) and they lay in the snow, side-by-side, catching their breath.
Snow was on Amara's eyelashes, her hair and in her shoes. But her heart was soaring with happiness instead of anger now.
Fred leaned on his elbow to look at her. Snow was in his ginger hair and on his eyelashes too, and Amara tried hard not to stare.
"Feel better?" he asked her, grinning.
Amara nodded breathlessly, and was relieved when George spoke out.
"Hey, look at this," he sniggered. Amara and Fred got up and saw that he was making snowballs fly up and hit a window on Gryffindor Tower.
Fred joined in, and soon a head poked out the window.
"OY!" the red headed person said. "I AM A PREFECT AND IF ONE MORE SNOWBALL HITS THIS WINDOW – OUCH!"
Fred had hit Ron with a snowball, and his head retracted quickly and the window slammed shut. Fred, George and Amara burst out laughing again and couldn't stop for a good ten minutes.
Hagrid came back to the staff table on Monday morning, still looking slightly beaten up (which Amara and the others still didn't know where it came from) and grinning brightly. Fred, George and Lee sprinted up the tables to shake Hagrid's hand, but Amara noticed Lavender and Parvati exchange annoyed and gloomy looks. They had preferred Professor Grubbly-Plank's way of teaching, which was to not bring dangerous creatures to their lessons.
Amara had her first detention that night, and after telling Ron, Harry and Hermione (Ron and Harry congratulating her, as Pansy still had a wonky nose; Hermione frowning at her and shaking her head in a disappointed manner; and Professor McGonagall telling her she shouldn't punch people, but seemed to smirk slightly and not take any points away) walked gloomily to Professor Umbridge's office, ready to face being forced to get her hand cut into.
"Good evening," said Professor Umbridge as she walked in.
"'Evening," Amara grumbled. Professor Umbridge seemed to ignore her rudeness.
"You'll be doing lines for me tonight," Umbridge said. She was wearing horrible pink robes today. "With a special quill of mine. Please write I must not attack others."
"How many times?"
"How many it takes," said Professor Umbridge simply.
Amara did not question her. Instead, she sat down and started writing. The quill was long and black, and Amara felt an increasing amount of foreboding as she placed it on the parchment. Feeling Umbridge's eyes on the back of her head, she wrote I must not attack others neatly on the parchment. Immediately, the words carved themselves onto Amara's hand, making her bite her lip, and heal over again. The shiny red ink gleamed up at her – Amara knew it was her own blood. Sickened, but refusing to show any sign that something was out of the norm, Amara carried on writing.
She carried on writing well into the night, and soon her hand was red and raw, and she was biting her lip very hard to stop herself from turning and jinxing Umbridge on the spot. How easy it would be to shove her out the window and make it look like an accident …
When Amara got back to the common room, she managed to do some homework (everyone else had gone to bed) so that she was not behind.
The next day, Amara woke up tired, and her hand was still sore, so she covered it in a glove so she didn't touch it any more than she had to.
They had their first Care of Magical Creatures class that day, and Amara was worried that Hagrid was going to pull up something like Hippogriffs for their first lesson.
Professor Umbridge was not there for the inspection as they struggled through the snow towards Hagrid, who was by the edge of the forest, holding half a dead cow over his shoulder.
"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid called happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark. . . ."
"What prefers the dark?" Amara heard Malfoy say sharply to Crabbe and Goyle, a trace of panic in his voice. "What did he say prefers the dark — did you hear?"
Amara smirked to herself at Malfoy's fear. She remembered him in the forest in their first year. She had punched him in the face for scaring Neville.
"Ready?" said Hagrid happily, looking around at the class. "Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y per- son in Britain who's managed ter train 'em —"
"And you're sure they're trained, are you?" said Malfoy, the panic in his voice even more pronounced now. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you'd brought wild stuff to class, would it?"
The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they thought Malfoy had a fair point too.
" 'Course they're trained," said Hagrid, scowling and hoisting the dead cow a little higher on his shoulder.
"So what happened to your face, then?" demanded Malfoy.
"Mind yer own business!" said Hagrid, angrily. "Now if yeh've finished askin' stupid questions, follow me!"
He turned and strode straight into the forest. Nobody seemed much disposed to follow. Of course, Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione lead the rest of the class, who seemed too nervous to follow, into the Forest after the half-giant.
They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was as dark as twilight and there was no snow on the ground at all. Hagrid deposited his half a cow with a grunt on the ground, stepped back, and turned to face his class again, most of whom were creeping toward him from tree to tree, peering around nervously as though expecting to be set upon at any moment.
"Gather roun', gather roun'," said Hagrid encouragingly. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me. . . ."
He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face, and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed; most of them looked too scared to make a sound.
Hagrid gave the shrieking cry again. A minute passed in which the class continued to peer nervously over their shoulders and around trees for a first glimpse of whatever it was that was coming. And then, as Hagrid shook his hair back for a third time and expanded his enormous chest, Amara saw a Thestral appear amongst the trees.
"Why doesn't Hagrid call again?" whispered Ron.
"They're already here, you dolt," Amara whispered back. "You just can't see them."
Before Ron could answer with 'What can't we see?' Hagrid had spoken.
"Oh, an' here comes another one!" said Hagrid proudly, as a second black horse appeared out of the dark trees, folded its leathery wings closer to its body, and dipped its head to gorge on the meat. "Now . . . put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"
Amara raised her hand along with Harry, Neville and a Slytherin boy who Amara thought was called Theodore Nott.
"Yeah . . . yeah, I knew you'd be able ter, Harry," Hagrid said seriously. He was surprised with Amara's hand. "Amara, you can see 'em too? An' you too, Neville, eh? An' —"
"Excuse me," said Malfoy in a sneering voice, "but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"
For answer, Hagrid pointed at the cow carcass on the ground. The whole class stared at it for a few seconds, then several people gasped and Parvati squealed. Amara thought it would be very odd if something invisible was eating the half-cow.
"What's doing it?" Parvati demanded in a terrified voice, retreating behind the nearest tree. "What's eating it?"
"Thestrals," said Hagrid proudly and Hermione gave a soft "oh!" of comprehension near Amara. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows — ?"
"But they're really, really unlucky!" interrupted Parvati, looking alarmed. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once —"
"No, no, no," said Hagrid, chuckling, "tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! 'Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages un- less Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate — an' here's another couple, look —"
Two more horses came quietly out of the trees, one of them passing very close to Parvati, who shivered and pressed herself closer to the tree, saying, "I think I felt something, I think it's near me!"
"Don' worry, it won' hurt yeh," said Hagrid patiently. "Righ', now, who can tell me why some o' you can see them an' some can't?"
Amara raised her hand.
"Go on then," said Hagrid, beaming at her.
"People can only see Thestrals if they've witnessed death," said Amara promptly.
"Tha's exactly right," said Hagrid, "Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, thestrals —"
"Hem, hem."
Professor Umbridge had arrived for the inspection, clipboard in hand and green cloak and hat on.
"Hem, hem."
"Oh hello!" Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.
"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" said Umbridge, in the same loud, slow voice she had used with him earlier, as though she was addressing somebody both foreign and very slow. "Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"
"Oh yeah," said Hagrid brightly. "Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see — or, I dunno — can you? We're doin' thestrals today —"
"I'm sorry?" said Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. "What did you say?"
Hagrid looked a little confused.
"Er — thestrals!" he said loudly. "Big — er — winged horses, yeh know!"
He flapped his gigantic arms hopefully. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him and muttered as she made a note on her clipboard, " 'has . . . to . . . resort . . . to . . . crude . . . sign . . . language . . .' "
"Well . . . anyway . . ." said Hagrid, turning back to the class and looking slightly flustered. "Erm . . . what was I sayin'?"
" 'Appears . . . to . . . have . . . poor . . . short . . . term . . . memory . . .' " muttered Umbridge, loudly enough for everyone to hear her. Malfoy looked as though Christmas had come a month early; Hermione, on the other hand, had turned scarlet with suppressed rage, and Amara was with her.
"Oh yeah," said Hagrid, throwing an uneasy glance at Umbridge's clipboard, but ploughing on valiantly. "Yeah, I was gonna tell yeh how come we got a herd. Yeah, so, we started off with a male an' five fe- males. This one," he patted the first horse to have appeared, "name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favorite, firs' one born here in the forest —"
"Are you aware," Umbridge said loudly, interrupting him, "that the Ministry of Magic has classified thestrals as 'dangerous'?"
Hagrid merely chuckled.
"Thestrals aren' dangerous! All righ, they might take a bite outta you if yeh really annoy them —"
" 'Shows . . . signs . . . of . . . pleasure . . . at . . . idea . . . of . . . violence . . . ' " muttered Umbridge, scribbling on her clipboard again.
"No — come on!" said Hagrid, looking a little anxious now. "I mean, a dog'll bite if yeh bait it, won' it — but thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing — people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they?"
Umbridge did not answer; she finished writing her last note, then looked up at Hagrid and said, again very loudly and slowly, "Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk" — she mimed walking — Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were having silent fits of laughter, making Amara want to punch her again, to make her nose more wonky — "among the students" — she pointed around at individual members of the class — "and ask them questions." She pointed at her mouth to indicate talking.
Hagrid stared at her, clearly at a complete loss to understand why she was acting as though he did not understand normal English. Hermione had tears of fury in her eyes now.
"You hag, you evil hag!" she whispered, as Umbridge walked toward Pansy Parkinson. "I know what you're doing, you awful, twisted, vicious —"
"Erm . . . anyway," said Hagrid, clearly struggling to regain the flow of his lesson, "so — thestrals. Yeah. Well, there's loads o' good stuff abou' them. . . ."
"Do you find," said Professor Umbridge in a ringing voice to Pansy Parkinson, "that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?"
Just like Hermione, Pansy had tears in her eyes, but these were tears of laughter; indeed, her answer was almost incoherent because she was trying to suppress her giggles. "No . . . because . . . well . . . it sounds . . . like grunting a lot of the time. . . ."
Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. The few unbruised bits of Hagrid's face flushed, but he tried to act as though he had not heard Pansy's answer.
"Er . . . yeah . . . good stuff abou' thestrals. Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' senses o' direction, jus' tell 'em where yeh want ter go —"
"Assuming they can understand you, of course," said Malfoy loudly, and Pansy Parkinson collapsed in a fit of renewed giggles. It was only because Amara did not want another week of detentions that she remained silent. Professor Umbridge smiled indulgently at them and then turned to Neville.
"You can see the thestrals, Longbottom, can you?" she said. Neville nodded.
"Whom did you see die?" she asked, her tone indifferent.
"My . . . my grandad," said Neville.
"And what do you think of them?" she said, waving her stubby hand at the horses, who by now had stripped a great deal of the carcass down to bone.
"Erm," said Neville nervously, with a glance at Hagrid. "Well, they're . . . er . . . okay. . . ."
" 'Students . . . are . . . too . . . intimidated . . . to . . . admit . . . they . . . are . . . frightened. . . .'" muttered Umbridge, making another note on her clipboard.
"No!" said Neville, looking upset, "no, I'm not scared of them — !"
"It's quite all right," said Umbridge, patting Neville on the shoulder and doing the same weird smiled she'd done before. "Well, Hagrid," she turned to look up at him again, speaking once more in that loud, slow voice, "I think I've got enough to be getting along with. . . . You will receive" — she mimed taking something from the air in front of her — "the results of your inspection" — she pointed at the clipboard — "in ten days' time." She held up ten stubby little fingers, then, her smile wider and more toadlike than ever before beneath her green hat, she bustled from their midst, leaving Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in fits of laughter, Hermione actually shaking with fury, and Neville looking confused and upset.
"That foul, lying, twisting old gargoyle!" stormed Hermione half an hour later, as they made their way back up to the castle through the channels they had made earlier in the snow. "You see what she's up to? It's her thing about half-breeds all over again — she's trying to make out Hagrid's some kind of dim-witted troll, just because he had a giantess for a mother — and oh, it's not fair, that really wasn't a bad lesson at all — I mean, all right, if it had been Blast-Ended Skrewts again, but thestrals are fine — in fact, for Hagrid, they're really good!"
"Umbridge said they're dangerous," said Ron.
"Don't be stupid," snapped Amara, who was still rather angry at the Slytherins and Umbridge. "They've pulled the carriages for goodness knows how long – have they ever hurt anybody?"
Ron said nothing, and Hermione ploughed on.
"It's like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves," said Hermione impatiently, "and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn't usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren't they? The way some people can see them and some can't! I wish I could."
"No you don't," said Amara swiftly and pointedly.
She looked horror-struck.
"Oh Harry, Amara — I'm sorry — no, of course I don't — that was a really stupid thing to say —"
"It's okay," Harry said quickly, "don't worry. . . ."
"I'm surprised so many people could see them," said Ron. "Four in a class —"
"Yeah, Weasley, we were just wondering," said a malicious voice nearby. Unheard by any of them in the muffling snow, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were walking along right behind them. "D'you reckon if you saw someone snuff it you'd be able to see the Quaffle better?"
He, Crabbe, and Goyle roared with laughter as they pushed past on their way to the castle and then broke into a chorus of "Weasley Is Our King." Ron's ears turned scarlet.
"Ignore them, just ignore them," intoned Hermione, pulling out her wand and performing the charm to produce hot air again, so that she could melt them an easier path through the untouched snow between them and the greenhouses.
Amara's second detention was just as worse as the first, but on her third, she realised that the words I must not attack others did not heal over anymore, and instead stood on her hand like a twisted sort of tattoo.
When she returned to the common room (Hermione had laid out some Murtlap essence for her) she was able to rest her bleeding hand and do some more homework. Ron and Harry were also still up, as their homework pile never seemed to decrease. It was not until they also went to bed when Amara took her hand out of the Murtlap essence and examined it.
It did not want to stop bleeding and it was painful still.
"What is that?"
Fred had come up to her and Amara flinched and hid her hand quickly.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb –" Fred said and he grabbed her arm, sitting down to examine it. Once reading what it said, he dropped it as though he'd been burnt. "That's what she makes you do?" he hissed.
"It's just lines," Amara muttered.
"That get etched into your hand?" Fred said, and he looked outraged. "I'm going to –"
"No you're not," Amara said wearily. "She'll do something horrible – and we can't go to McGonagall because she'll probably get sacked, okay? Leave it, Fred. I'm fine."
"You're not," Fred said stubbornly, sliding off the arm of the chair and next to Amara. "Can't just let her do this."
"We have to," said Amara. "I've only got two more detentions left."
"Try not to get any more, okay? Your hand will get ruined," he said, concerned.
Amara smiled tiredly at him, gave him a hug and stood up.
"I'm going to bed," she yawned. "Night."
Fred did not answer, he still looked very troubled, but Amara left him on the sofa, and she saw George go after his twin to see what the matter was.
Amara's birthday was not until after her detentions were over. Her hand still had a scar on it by the end of it, matching Harry, but she let that slide past with the load of presents she received from family and friends.
-OOOOO-
When December rolled in, the teachers piled on an even higher mound of homework for them, which left them drained and irritated.
Amara and Harry were not jealous of Hermione and Ron's prefect duties, which involved helping put the decorations around the castle up, looking after the first and second years at break time and helping Argus Filch the caretaker. In fact, Amara and Harry enjoyed Ron's annoyed stories, which annoyed the boy greatly when they laughed at his misfortunes. Hermione had other worries, which was mainly not knitting any house elf hats.
"All those poor elves I haven't set free yet, having to stay over during Christmas because there aren't enough hats!"
Amara was planning to go home for Christmas, and she had a feeling Tally was coming over too, which meant that they would probably stop by at The Burrow at some point to see the Weasley's before she went back to France. Ron was going to The Burrow and Hermione was going skiing with her parents, much to Ron's amusement. Harry, who moped around for a few days after finding out that Ron was going home, chirped up when Ron remembered to tell him that he was invited too.
"But you're coming too! Didn't I say? Mum wrote and told me to invite you weeks ago!" He had said, which made Harry seem to explode with happiness. Hermione rolled her eyes at this, but Amara sniggered at them.
-OOOOO-
Before the last D.A. session of the year, Angelina held tryouts for the empty Quidditch positions on the team. Ginny and Ethan told her separately that they were going to tryout - Ginny for Seeker and Ethan for Beater. If there had been a Chaser spot free, Amara would have gone for it, but there wasn't, so she went to sit in the stands to cheer on her brother and Ginny.
Tryouts were pretty much a nightmare, and Amara sat groaning at all the awful players with Fred and George, both of whom looked thoroughly put out with the fact that they weren't down there.
Ethan, though not to the same speed as Fred and George, admittedly was the best beater out there, as he didn't shriek or miss the Bludger. Fred and George even commented how good he was, as well as being surprised at how good Ginny was.
Angelina seemed rather upset and near tears by the end of the awful tryouts.
"How come you two are the only decent beaters in the whole of Gryffindor house?"
"That's not true," George said fairly. "Your brother is pretty decent."
"Yeah," Amara said. "I hope Angelina doesn't choose that Andrew Kirke, he was better than most but still awful."
When Amara, Fred and George entered the Room of Requirement sometime later, they found Angelina, Katie and Alicia already there.
"Who'd you decide?" George asked them after their conversation with Harry.
"Ginny for Seeker," said Angelina.
"And your brother and Jack Sloper for Beaters," said Alicia.
"Good for Ethan," Amara muttered. She hoped he'd be good enough in the actual matches.
They couldn't say anything else as Harry called them all to order.
"Okay," he said. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break —"
"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come. . . ."
"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," said Fred loudly from next to Amara and George.
Several people, including Amara, sniggered.
"We can practice in pairs," said Harry. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."
Amara partnered with George that time, whilst Fred went with Lee. She was very gleeful when she managed to get him with Inpedimenta first and made him freeze first.
When he unfroze (Fred had been frozen by Lee because he'd laughed and gotten distracted) he shot Amara with the spell as well.
After ten minutes of freezing and freezing other people, they all laid the cushions out and half of them observed the rest because there wasn't enough space to do it all together. Amara liked Stupefy very much,
She was also extremely proud of her siblings. Ethan was a year younger than she was when she had learnt most of the spells, which Harry had used in the Triwizard Tournament, but she was also impressed with Tessie. As she, Aubrey and Joey were only first-years, they always had the disadvantage. But they listened and almost always mastered it at the same time as everyone else. Ollivander had been right when he said she was going to be powerful - each new spell she learnt was very powerful indeed. It was scary how an eleven-year-old could perform such spells - Tessie was going to do well in her exams. She seemed to be rivalling Hermione in the lessons - Professor Flitwick actually came up to her and told her how well Tessie was doing in Charms.
At the end of an hour, Harry called a halt.
"You're getting really good," he said, beaming around at them. "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff — maybe even Patronuses."
There was a murmur of excitement.
After helping clear up, Amara left with Fred and George, eagerly discussing the thought of finally being able to do Patronuses. Fred and George were adamant that Tessie was going to get a cool one, but Amara pointed out that she was only first-year, and even Harry was thirteen when he first did his patronus. Fred and George did not listen, and started listing Patronuses that they could have.
She said goodbye to Fred and George in the common room and went over to see Ron and Hermione.
"I haven't seen you for ages," Hermione said as she sat down next to Ron on the hearthrug, pulling her half-finished Transfiguration essay towards her. "Where have you been?"
"Fred and George," muttered Amara, smiling. Hermione sighed, as if in disapproval, and started to write a very long letter.
Ron needed help with his Transfiguration, so once Amara had finished, she helped him with his (Hermione scowling at them every now and then).
Harry did not return to the common room until much later, and when he did he looked so shocked, Amara stared.
"What kept you?" Ron asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to Hermione's.
Harry did not answer. Amara and Ron exchanged smirks and turned to smirk at the boy.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked, peering at him over the tip of her quill.
Harry gave a halfhearted shrug.
"What's up?" said Ron, hoisting himself up on his elbow to get a clearer view of Harry. Amara kneeled up as well to see his reaction. "What's happened?"
Harry did not seem to be able to speak.
"Is it Cho?" Hermione asked in a businesslike way. "Did she corner you after the meeting?"
Harry nodded. Ron and Amara sniggered together.
"So — er — what did she want?" he asked in a mock casual voice.
"Ask any questions?" Amara said lightly and they both sniggered like children again.
"She —" Harry began, rather hoarsely; he cleared his throat and tried again. "She — er —"
"Did you kiss?" asked Hermione briskly.
Amara and Ron both sat up, eager for an answer, and sending the ink pot Ron was using all over the rug. They ignored this and stared at Harry.
"Well?" they said together.
Harry looked between them, and then nodded.
"HA!"
Ron and Amara high fived each other and laughed very loudly, making some timid looking second-years jump and look scared. They proceeded to laugh so much that they fell onto the hearthrug. Hermione was very disapproving of them and turned back to her letter again.
"Well?" Ron said finally, looking up at Harry. "How was it?"
Harry seemed to consider for a moment.
"Weird," he said finally.
Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.
"Huh?" Amara said. When she snogged Cedric it hadn't been weird.
"Because a minute before she'd been talking about you," said Harry and Amara blinked.
"Er -" Ron said. "Why?"
"Dunno," said Harry. "She was talking about Cedric too ... I think she cried a little too."
"Uh," said Ron. "Does this mean you're bad at kissing?"
"Maybe," said Harry, looking slightly worried about this fact.
"Of course you're not," said Hermione absently, still scribbling away at her letter.
"How do you know?" said Ron and Amara at the same time, both sounding rather amused.
"Because she's always moping about," said Hermione. "Don't you realise how she's feeling at the moment?"
"No," said Harry, Amara and Ron simultaneously.
"Well she spent most of last year pining over Cedric, because he chose to go out with Amara instead of her," Hermione said, then noticed the guilty look on Amara's face. "Not that it's your fault," she added. "But she tried very hard last year to make Cedric notice her - you should have heard her in the bathroom - but now Cedric died and she's started to have feelings for Harry and she obviously feels guilty as she said horrible things about Amara and Cedric last year and now he's gone and she's already moved on to someone else. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying pretty badly recently."
Amara's mouth was open by the end of it and there was a stunned silence as they tried to understand what Hermione had just said.
"One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode." Ron said.
"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily, picking up her quill again.
"What did she say about me and Cedric last year?" Amara said suspiciously.
"Just normal horrible girly stuff," said Hermione dismissively. "I didn't tell you or anyone because I knew one of the boys - Ron or the twins - would probably go yell at her."
Ron nodded.
"Well, she was the one who started all of it," said Harry. "I wouldn't've — she just sort of came at me — and next thing she's moaning about all of it and started crying all over me — I didn't know what to do —"
"Don't blame you, mate," said Ron, looking alarmed at the very thought.
"You just had to be nice to her," said Hermione, looking up anxiously. "You were, weren't you?"
"Well," said Harry, an unpleasant heat creeping up his face, "I sort of — patted her on the back a bit."
"Shouldn't've been too nice," said Amara darkly. "She's the one who was apparently horrible to me."
"Yes but now she's feeling guilty," said Hermione.
"You don't see Amara crying all over the place though," said Ron. "She has more reason to cry."
Hermione glared at him as Amara fiddled with the hearthrug.
"With everything that's been going on, I kinda ignored it," Amara said.
Hermione nodded sympathetically and turned to Harry.
"Are you going to see her again?"
"I'll have to, won't I?" said Harry. "We've got D.A. meetings, haven't we?"
"You know what I mean," said Hermione impatiently.
Harry said nothing to that. Ron and Amara were scowling over Cho's apparent horrid remarks. Amara was pleased to have Ron as a sort of older brother (even though his birthday was in March) as she only had a younger one which she had to look after.
"Oh well," said Hermione distantly, buried in her letter once more, "you'll have plenty of opportunities to ask her. . . ."
"What if he doesn't want to ask her?" said Ron.
"Don't be silly," said Hermione vaguely, "Harry's liked her for ages, haven't you, Harry?"
Harry didn't answer. He gave a half-glance to Amara, as if he was conflicted because of Cho's hatred towards her.
"I don't mind," she told him. "Don't really care."
"Who're you writing the novel to anyway?" Ron asked Hermione, moving on the conversation.
"Jesse."
"Ahh," Ron, Harry and Amara exchanged knowing smirks. "Anything we should read?"
Hermione scowled over the parchment at him. She hitched the parchment so that they couldn't see it.
"No," she snapped. "Go away."
Ron and Amara sniggered once more.
"As he's Amara's cousin, I think we should know -" Ron began.
"Shut up," said Hermione, but she looked slightly amused all the same.
"Jesse hasn't written to me in about two years," said Amara, pretending to be hurt.
"Has Tally written to you recently?" Ron asked eagerly, making Harry and Hermione laugh.
"Yeah," said Amara. "Why don't you write to her?"
Ron flushed and looked at the rug.
"Dunno," he said.
"She's coming here for Christmas," said Amara. "We'll visit you yeah?"
Ron nodded, visibly brightening.
For the next twenty minutes, Hermione continued her letter and Amara helped Ron with his homework. Harry stared into the fire, liking troubled.
"Well, 'night," said Hermione, yawning widely. "Coming?" She asked Amara.
"Yep," said Amara, having finished helping Ron. "Night guys."
Ron and Harry bid their goodnights and headed towards the boys' staircase too.
Amara settled down rather well, little did she know that the next day would be one of the most agonising yet.