"So this is where the kitchens are," Lily's eyes widened as Amalia tickled the pear. "How do you know?"
"I do my snooping," Amalia opened the portrait door and the girls walked. Lily let out a gasp, seeing who exactly worked in the kitchens.
"Brownie!" Amalia called out. "I brought snacks."
"Miss Amalia is kind!" Brownie, the house elf, took one of the chocolate candies. "And who would Miss Amalia's friends be?"
Marlene introduced herself, and so did Lily
Lily said unsurely. "Uhm… Brownie, do you like it here?"
"Oh yes! Professor Dumbledore treats us kindly," Brownie smiled. "And those who know of us don't bother us."
"I didn't know we had elves," Lily said uncomfortably. "I only know them from… uh, well, rather fortunate houses. And not all of them are treated well."
"Most pure blood families are cruel, and they have some protections to keep the elves bound to them. Come, sit with me. " There was a small table in the corner, added specifically for those who knew about the place or wanted a midnight snack. It was perfect for studying, too.
Marlene nodded. "Do you know about the broonie? from folklore? Those are our house elves. They don't like being mistreated, and would leave if we are disrespectful."
"Really? But they are still under servitude at Hogwarts?" Lily asked. She looked around, watching the house elves run around the kitchen.
"Officially, yes. But Dumbledore lifted it, saying that they may leave if they want to or feel mistreated," Marlene nodded. "Me mum told me about this –she works for the Ministry, Care for Magical Creatures Department. They had a field day when they found that one."
"Field day bad?"
"Field day good," Marlene said firmly.
Lily hesitated. "I don't know, Marl. There's just something wrong about being treating magical beings as inferior, and having them work for you only as servants, don't you think? Mali, what do you think about it?"
Amalia's heart soared at the nickname, but she scolded herself. Now was not the time.
"I think we should ask the elves how they feel about it, but I don't think their treatment is right either. But if there are talks about this, we should always ask them what they want."
"And what does Brownie want?"
"Brownie wants the Gryffindor common room to stop smelling like burnt dragon poo," Brownie calls out. "Nasty! I shall NOT go cleaning the boys dormitories until they stop it."
Lily cracked a smile.
"So what was that commotion then?"
"We needed to get Remus and the boys to talk again," Lily shrugged. "I gave a little push."
"Do you think it will work?"
"We shall see," Amalia took a pitcher of water and some cups. She looked at what Marlene was working on. "What's that?"
Marlene blushed and moved her little project under the table. It was a piece of alternating sapphire blue and silver yarn, and it looked a lot like a pair of gloves.
"It's for someone I like," she muttered. "They were complaining about their gloves not working well during Magical Creatures, so I've decided to make some. I've coated the yarn in a new potion, it's supposed to stop anything from biting through. It's a lot cheaper than buying a new pair."
"If you take out the labour," Lily teased. "Who is it for?"
"I won't say."
"Are you sure?"
Marlene shook her head. "No, I don't want to announce it just yet."
"Alright, keep your secrets," Lily smirked.
"Would you like hot chocolate?" Brownie asked. "We also have apple cider, but I don't think the headmaster would enjoy us handing out alcoholic beverages to his niece."
"I won't tell if you won't tell, Brownie." The house elf smiled and snapped his fingers, and the three drinks landed on the table.
"Apple cider is alcoholic?" Marlene wondered. "Then what's the one my mum makes each Autumn?"
"A non European drink," Lily sipped at her drink. "That's for sure."
She was able to fall asleep well that night, despite the events of the day. It wasn't all bad, she told herself as she fell asleep. It was just the one event that put a sour feeling on the day.
But the way she was able to lose her voice just that fast… given, Lily returned it to her, but she felt useless. She hated that she hadn't come up with it on her own.
It was just a prank, but it left her spiraling.
A cold draft pulled through the morning, and Amalia found that her leg was hurting in the morning. She cursed, and no amount of stretching could relieve the pain that stretched down the back of her thigh. She soldiered down the steps and to the Great Hall, eating some breakfast before heading to Madame Pomfrey for some pain relief.
"At the very least, you're not a werewolf," Madame Pomfrey handed her a potion. "That's the worst that could have happened."
Amalia frowned. The worst that could have happened was her dying, and Remus living with the guilt of that. If she were a werewolf, she would still be alive with a few drawbacks.
Madame Pomfrey handed her a walking stick to support her throughout the day.
Amalia felt a flutter of nerves, but her excitement pushed her forward. She spotted Professor Flitwick at the front of the hall, his small stature emphasised by the towering, enchanted music standing around him. He smiled warmly at her as she approached.
"Ah, Miss Bonham! I'm delighted to see you here!" he said, his voice bright.
As students filed in, Amalia took a moment to observe them. There were familiar faces from her classes, some hopefuls from her house, and a few students she recognized from Slytherin.
She felt a little tap on the shoulder and turned around to face what essentially was a Sirius Black doppelgänger. His face was more gaunt, and instead of unruly dark curls, his were gel-ed back. And unlike Sirius, his eyes were not a stark grey but a warm brown.
"You're in the way," he noted.
"I am right where I am needed, thanks," she grumbled.
"Alright, everyone!" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands to gather attention. "We'll start with a few solo auditions. When your name is called, please come forward and perform your chosen piece. Remember, we're looking for passion and clarity!"
Amalia's name was called sooner than she expected. Heart pounding, she stepped forward, her mind racing with lyrics she had practiced. The room felt suddenly quiet, all eyes on her.
She let her voice ring throughout the room. It wasn't the best of the best belting songs, but it was one that would be sung at a pub. It's what she thought best. She didn't sing it to the full, given that it was long, but for the time she sang, the entire room stilled.
"So slowly, slowly –"
Her voice got caught. She cleared her throat, the blood rushing to her cheeks. She could hear someone snicker, but she shook her head. She needed to remind herself that they didn't matter. She was the one singing, after all.
" –she got up
And slowly she drew nigh him
And the only words to him did say
"Young man, I think you're dying"
Professor Flitwick conducted her singing, and then when he signalled for her to stop, she did. He seemed content. He called for the next person, and she sat right back down with her cheeks burning. She watched the other entrants. Somewhere good, some had their voice cracking as well, which made Amalia feel better, and others were simply… well, in her humble opinion, they weren't very good at singing solo. There were distractions every once in a while from the audience, especially for the Slytherin students, which had Flitwick threatening to kick everyone out that wasn't trying out. By the end of it all, Flitwick was pressing his fingers to his temples and told them he'd make his decision by the Monday.
Later that day, while wandering the castle, she received an owl, asking her to come to the Headmaster's office. She hadn't talked to Dumbledore in a bit, mostly because she didn't want to run to him at every single inconvenience.
The headmaster was enjoying some lemon sherbets when she came in.
"Amalia!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad you came as soon as you could –I've been told you met my brother, Abeforth, just yesterday?"
"Was I not supposed to?" she frowned. Dumbledore shook his head.
"On the contrary. It would strengthen your story a bit. And it's not like my brother didn't know, after all. Now, how are your classes?"
Amalia told him about her classes, and complained a little bit about Professor Penderghast while she was at it. He'd summoned a tablet of cakes and drinks while she talked, and nodded every once in a while.
"And I hear that you're quite adept at Divination?" he inquired. "Given, I don't think much about those arts. But you seem to be quite good at Arithmancy, Astrology, and the likes. Did you study those in your world?"
Amalia shook her head. "I was never good enough to study them officially. They made it a little bit too hard to join those disciplines during my time, but I don't regret not studying it. It lets me have some fun with it."
"Is that so," he hummed. "Now your professor overheard you telling young Mr. Snape that he will have a choice to make. I ask you, is this something you made up or did you actually see something in the crystal ball.
Amalia licked her lips, hesitant. Whenever people talked about dreams, at least for witches and wizards from the books, it seemed like it was something that didn't happen often. But, she was also reading the story from Harry's point of view. None of the characters she knew were good at divination, often seeing it as a lesser magic despite a prophecy defining the story.
"I dreamt it before I saw it," she finally said. "I thought maybe it was because I knew it would happen, but I really did see something in the crystal ball, if you want to know."
"You're not taking any extra Divination classes?"
"No, it's just McGonagall now. She's giving me all the foundations I need for the other classes, too. Snape is still kind to me, especially since he told me I just need to think about baking," Amalia mused at the idea. "It's food sciences, chemistry at its finest, that is all."
"I see," he nodded. "But your magic skills are still…?"
"I've got a study group, we've been helping each other out." She hesitated to say the names of the group members. Then, she realized that thinking it might be giving it away. Dumbledore waved his hand in the air.
"I don't look into every person's mind, if you are worried about that. It's not illegal to have a study group, " he chuckled. "Still, I'd be very careful about what you learn. Some people might get suspicious, after all."
"What, I'm not doing anything suspicious!"
"Were you not near the restricted section?"
"Because the music scores were all near there!" Amalia crossed her arms. She knew who reported that to him. The librarian was really too nosy. "Besides, I only ran away and nearly forgot to check out my book because James Potter was snooping around and asking questions."
"All good, Amalia," Dumbledore nodded. "I just wanted to know. I can't have…"
He trailed on, a glaze falling on his expression, and Amalia knew exactly what he was thinking.
"I won't," she said. "I promise."
"You do, however, get access to the restricted section next year," Dumbledore's mood changed. "So if you do, at least wait just a little."
Amalia personally received the news in Charms class that she was a member of the Choir now, which meant she would be singing every Tuesday evening. She squealed and immediately ran up to Lily, who was talking to a Slytherin girl named Mary.
"I got in!" she squealed. "I'm in choir!"
"Oh? That's great! I'm in it,too," Mary smiled. "You'll be great. What range?"
"Alto. Flitwick said that I'm a mezzo but I don't have the range for soprano."
"Good, sopranos are little divas –I'm joking. I'm a soprano," Mary's voice was incredibly soft as she spoke, and Amalia had a hard time picking her voice up with how loud the room was.
Mary looked behind her, and then proceeded to hide a little bit behind Lily. Amalia followed her line of gaze and saw that it landed on Mulciber.
"Say, Mary," Amalia said suddenly. "Would you like to come study with me and Lily? And Marlene… and Clementine. We'll be by the Black Lake, later."
"Isn't it a little bit cold?"
"I'm bringing snacks and drinks – I'm making them on my own," she noted the uncomfortable grunt Lily did. "And if you have any projects you're working on, bring it along."
"Like what?" Mary's eyes went wide with curiosity.
"Charms, knitting, the meaning of time," Amalia proposed. "Or we can practice singing together. Your pick."
"That would be lovely," she went bright. "Uhm, you don't care that I'm…"
"What?"
"A Slytherin," she muttered.
Amalia looked at her confused, then back to Lily. Lily was obviously acquainted, if not friends with Mary seeing as they were chatting and sitting next to each other in Charms.
"It's just a house for me," Amalia told her. Mary let out a sigh of relief. "C'mon, let's go have lunch together. I could go for a nice pumpkin soup."
Just as she was about to walk out, someone packed her hood and pulled her back.
"Ouch!" she hissed. She turned around, and scowled as she faced Peter Pettigrew. "Why are you man-handling me, Peter?"
Truth be told, she barely knew Peter and didn't want to be prejudiced against him. But he was making it hard given the pranks that he was pulling with the boys. So, she was not exactly happy to see him.
"I'll be right there with you, Lils," Amalia told the two girls. "Grab a bowl for me?"
She nodded and left with Mary. The classroom had emptied out.
"Why are you hanging out with her?"
"Because… I want to?"
"What is your study group for?" he asked suspiciously.
"It's for friends," Amalia said in a dry tone. "What are you thinking?"
"It's a little bit curious to have a Slytherin, Gryffindor, and a Hufflepuff together in a group… normally we stick with our own houses."
"Wow, Peter. If everyone thought like that, community would have died out a long time ago," Amalia did not have time for dumb thinking like that. To her, the houses were just houses. They existed at her old school as well, but nobody took it seriously and there wasn't even a house cup to win for it. "Who taught you to think like that, if I may ask?"
Peter shrugged, "It's what everyone says."
"And how many friends outside of Gryffindor do you have?"
He did not answer.
"Alright, well. I'm off," Amalia said.
"I just wanted to apologize!" Peter called out. Amalia stopped in her tracks. "You sounded good at the trial."
"You were there?"
"Remus made us sit through it all as a punishment. It was AWFUL, but you sounded good," he squeaked. Her heart fluttered.
"Did… are you talking again?"
Peter nodded. "We all shouted at each other for a good ten minutes, but then we made up. I think we really needed that. I need to thank Evans for that."
Amalia smiled, hugged her books closer to her chest, and then walked to the Great Hall. It only occurred to her later that the heckling during Choir tryouts had been the Marauders.
A/N: Oh, friends, I do apologise for not updating! This chapter was ready last week, but I don't know what stopped me from updating. I'm doing my best to finish my outstanding assignments, and life has been up-and-down (politics in my home country have also gone haywire a bit).
The song sung is Barbara Allen, an English Folk song. Whenever I think of Amalia, I think of her as someone well-versed in Folklore, be it stories and songs, because she is connected to her heritage(s). I like to think that the main difference between her and Eliza (OC from Wizards and Therapies) is that she was allowed to grow into her identity. In contrast, Eliza was stunned multiple times due to expectations of her.