Azkaban

I Know

It had been a long week, stuck in the Wyllt Manor with nowhere to go. Amarea had long tried to show everyone around, trying in vain to make everything go back to how it was before the fire—their time had been full of longing glances from Amarea and distrusting glares from the rest of the teens. Soon enough, it was time to return to Hogwarts. Everyone had gathered their things, using Amarea's fireplace to floo into Diagon Alley. Amarea hadn't joined them, deciding to floo right into Hogwarts to speak with Dumbledore.

She told the man about her situation; to no surprise, he wasn't much help. Amarea had hoped that the man would give her some advice about the Harry situation or her mother's portrait. But all he had said was what she didn't want to hear. To focus on Tom and talk to her sister, or her father, whose portrait was moved back near the Slytherin dormitories. With no advice from him, she turned to Slughorn. She didn't particularly like the man, but sometimes his advice was helpful, no matter how crazy it was.

"And you said your mother wasn't in the portrait?"

"Like I said before," Amarea sighs, having been over this about ten times. "There was nothing in the portrait. Like, just blackness."

Slughorn hums, a hand on his chin, "Hmm, that is interesting. I wonder why that could be?"

Amarea looks at him, a straight look on her face. "Yeah," she says. "I wonder."

They had continued to talk, soon venturing off into matters of Potions and magic. She had tried countless times to get out of the conversation, but the man was a talker. An endless talker. Soon enough there was a knock at the door. Slughorn is slow to get up, but she lets him answer the door, no matter how much it pains her. She hears Harry's voice on the other side of the door, immediately tensing and looking for an exit to no avail.

"Very well, better bring him in," Slughorn says. "Luck has it, Miss Wyllt is visiting. She is also particularly experienced in potions."

Amarea watches Harry come in, Ron in tow. All thoughts of her and Harry's tension go out the window as she looks over the red-head. "What's wrong with him?"

"Powerful love potion," Slughorn comments.

She helps him prepare a remedy, tensing up when Harry starts to talk about his and Slughorn's earlier conversation, whatever that was, and about Tom. But soon, she's less focused on Harry and the potion, and more focused on making sure Ron doesn't kill himself. She soon has Ron on the couch again, drinking the tonic Slughorn gives him.

"What happened to me," Ron asks, his face dropping.

They are about to have a drink to celebrate Ron's coming-to when the redhead drops to the floor, seizing. She immediately drops to the floor, rolling Ron over on his side as he starts to foam at the mouth. Harry runs off, presumably to look for a remedy. "Hurry up," she barks to the brunette.

"I'm trying," he barks back, shooting her a glare.

Soon enough Ron is breathing again, Amarea, Harry, and Slughorn transporting Ron to the medical wing. Once the nurses had started to check him over, Amarea turned to Harry. "I'm sorry for snapping at you like that," she says softly.

"It's fine."

"No, Harry. It isn't. Listen, about the whole...thing...I..."

He shoots her a deadly glare. "I said it's fine," he hisses. "Just go back to being a good wife or whatever you are and leave us alone."

She watches as Harry walks off to Ron's bedside, leaving her alone. Sighing, she leaves the room.

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