Chapter 3
The news that Magic was real were not, in fact, news but Amara liked to be reminded she was right, and that she was different than the nasty and stupid girls at the Orphanage, so it was a welcome surprise when, not a day after she sent her reply full with questions over how to get to ‘Diagon Alley’ an older woman — a professor at Hogwarts — called Minerva Mcgonagall together with another professor, Severus Snape, appeared and started to explain everything.
“You don’t look like that is new to you Miss Potter” the scottish accent from Professor Mcgonagall startled her of her musings and she saw Professor Snape glare at her like she offended him and his fourth generation by just existing.
One thing she learned was that, while Mcgonagall seemed to hold her in a soft spot thanks to her parents being her favourite students, Snape seemed to hate her for almost the same reason. She can take that, she would gladly take that in fact.
Putting a beam in her face, Amara closed her eyes and focused on the dimples in her face. Laying it quite thickly on the charm.
“You see, professor, I was always able to do things that others didn’t.” Snape glared even more if that was possible, seems like he thought she was bragging – which was technically true but she would deny it just to save her reputation and to spite the man – and didn’t like it.
“Ah, yes, I’ve heard about your talents with languages and how you're at the top of all your classes.” Amara hunched her shoulders slightly and made sure to dim her smile a bit while scratching the back of her head. It wasn’t that hard to feel uncomfortable under the praise, since that woman she didn’t do anything to, Mcgonagall was just praising her for free. But being humble? Excuse you, Amara knew her own value.
“Well,” She started and this time locked eyes with Mcgonagall’s face, not looking directly into her eyes but still analysing her reactions “I wasn’t talking about my grades Miss. I was always able to, well, float things for example.”
Surprise was written across their faces and she heard Snape muttering a quiet curse under his breath.
“Does that mean that other Wizards and witches are not able to do that?” Oh my, and they ask why she loves her own magic. Amara did not expose any of her true thoughts but instead she continued, looking for some sort of information that would be written across their faces after that shock.
“In fact, no Miss Potter.” Mcgonagall somehow seemed to be proud of her . Which was weird but soon a question was directed at her “Is there anything more you can do?”
Let it never be said that Amara didn’t like her Magic, or that she didn’t enjoy the feeling of finally being able to speak about her magic with others.
“I was always able to float things around. If I wanted something when I was a child it would just, well, appear before me too! One time, one of the older kids brought a T-shirt that was actually so cool I felt the need to have the exact same one, and when I caught myself, there it was! There was also this one time where I accidentally tripped on a tree root inside the forest and I heard a loud ‘crack’ before I opened my eyes and fell into my bed!”
Amara delighted herself with creating stories about the accidents that she had while being a child, it was easy, you just had to change the scenario and let the accident have the same nature. All of those accidents did happen, but not exactly the way she told them it did.
She had wished for a knife instead of a T-shirt, but in the end, both had apeared and that was the real important thing that happened. Not the object.
“I can also–” She was about to explain how she talked with snakes too but saw that the Professors seemed, well, overwhelmed and stopped herself.
“Well Miss Potter,” Snape cleared his throat, “that is certainly..something.” She could tell it pained him to admit that, which made her want to smile and say more just to spite him but instead she turned and looked at Mcgonagall.
“So how do I buy my materials?”
That seemed to finally shake the professor into action and she spent the last twenty minutes explaining about Diagon Alley, a magical district that had everything you’d need, automatically, before she blinked at her owlishly.
Amara smiled encouragingly and held back her tongue as the professor then explained more about her supposed role in a Wizarding War.
The real thing that had been bothering her was the lack of information the woman was willing to disclose regarding the last Wizarding War and her role in it. Of course, she had received the ‘you’re famous because you survived the Killing Curse when no one else did’ talk, but Mcgonagall seemed strictly against talking more about the Death Eaters, terrorist group that seemed to follow a Dark Lord. Or whatever the hell that was.
“I am sorry Miss Potter, but I am not going to talk about a group of terrorists with you. It must be a shock for you to find everything like this so I understand the curiosity” the ‘ though I wished you’d be more curious about your parents’ was there, but Amara was too busy trying her hardest not to scowl at the woman’s words to actually pay attention to the ulterior words that she tried to speak. Still, that could be used in her favour
“Of course.” Amara replied, before dipping her head a bit and dropping her eyelids, to make sure she looked sad “I was actually wondering, professor,” She continued with a small voice.
“If you could tell me a bit about my parents, you see, I never got a picture of them, so I never got to know if I looked more like my father or my mother. You don’t have to, but, you told me you teached them so I thought perhaps..” She let the silence consume the room and heard a shuffle from behind her, she turned towards Snape and saw the shock and pain in his eyes before a mask was put on. Interesting.
After that bomb Mcgonagall seemed to be determined to ask her how did she even end up here.
“You see professor,” she dipped her head again, – shy, soft spoken and nervous Amara, remember, repeat – “I– I wasn’t actually taken care of during my stay with my last guardians.” Amara didn’t scowl, but it was a near thing.
Amara hated talking about the Dursleys, she hated how powerless she was during her first years of life. How she depended on them to literally bring her food, or else she would die. How her life was at their mercy before she could even comprehend what that meant.
She sighed and rolled her shoulders to rid herself of those thoughts, momentarily forgetting about the guests. She opened her eyes and stared at Mcgonagall’s eyes this time, knowing that while it might take away some of her guileless persona, it would only help her to appear with some sort of fire beneath her innocent facade.
Or maybe it might bite her in the ass later. She didn’t know, and while it would certainly be bad, it was quite the game Amara liked to play, gambling with Fate.
“I was– well, abused, to put it mildly and after some questions were raised by my professors, the police were involved and soon I was placed here.” There. That was enough.
“But– but Dumbledore told– told us that you were– being pampered and spoiled.” She seemed to be going through shock but Amara paid more attention to Mcgonagall and Snape’s mutterings than to what they actually looked like.
“I’m sorry Professor '' she said softly, not wanting to break whatever shock she was going through.
Amara needed information and that that Dumbledore (wasn’t he like, the headmaster of the school? How come a headmaster knew how she was? And perhaps most importantly, why did those people believe him?) apparently told everyone she was being pampered and spoiled, which was obviously not true (unless you consider her spoiled with beatings then, okay, she was) and she didn’t like that one bit.
“How would he know that?”
“He had people watching the house.” What.
Amara turned to Snape, who was staring off to space for sometime, after he spoke whatever the hell that was. People watching her? Okay she was, technically a celebrity but what ? And those people, those who saw everything – because there was no way they didn’t, practically everyone in the neighbourhood knew, they just didn’t want to get their hands dirty and then she had to be the one who spoke up – and yet they, like so many others, just stood by and did nothing ?
Amara wondered if they reported it to Dumbledore, if they thought about doing something to help before leaving her at those pigs' mercy.
‘That's enough Amara. Concentrate to the fact, do not lose this opportunity to know more.’ She breathed quietly before speaking quietly, coercing a bit of her magic towards Mcgonagall.
“How come?” She asked;
“He– he told us that it was best for you to remain there, for your own safety.”
Amara closed her eyes before she accidentally scared one of them out of their stupor and breathed.
Once, twice, thrice.
Repeat.
“He didn’t want us to tell you more about the war. You’re just a child, there’s no need for you to know about it, and I’m inclined to agree with him.” Mcgonagall spoke once more and this time Amara had to retreat her magic, lest she does something that her persona was not supposed to do.
Dumbledore, who was that man? What power did he hold for these people just– just believe him without any proof of anything? What made him have any right in what was said about her? Was he some sort of relative of hers to have any saying in where she went? How dare he; How dare he leave her there.
And for what? What did he get out of this?
“No one survived the Killing Curse before, only you;” was what Mcgonagall told her. Maybe, yes maybe he wanted to have some sort of power over her if she had been the first one to do something.
‘If you had something others didn’t, you’d either be robbed or be powerful.’ And it was clear that Dumbledore wanted her to be robbed of her things.
Amara opened her eyes and stared at the ground thinking about it.
‘So he wants us ignorant so that he can rob our gifts or use us to do something.’
Amara concluded and eyed the two adults in the room.
Amara needed answers and information, desperately so, but she refused to take them if it came from two people who were pocketed by a powerful man.
She tried to make her magic go back to coerce more information about it but she hesitated. These people most likely held information that was biased and Amara would rather not listen to bias.
“There is no need for you two to accompany me Professors, I am perfectly capable of doing that alone.” She watched as they absentedly nodded and went out.
Amara smiled as they crossed the street and with a ‘crack’ were gone.
Amara already knew where to go after all, and if her assumptions were right, the right place to start was Gringotts.The rest would be all in due time.
A faint wave of magic knocked her forward and she grimaced at the hot feeling all over her chest.
Perhaps she should go hunting before going to Gringotts. She heard that you better not let your emotions get in the way of business.