14
While Amita had consistently handed out prophecies for others, she had never managed to predict her own future. She had tried touching her skin, drinking tea leaves, dipping a self-writing quill in her blood, … She had tried it all and yet she remained blind to her fate.
But perhaps if she had picked up her schedule this morning and actually thought about today’s lectures, she could have predicted her fate enough to avoided her current situation.
“Well, hello, dear Amita,” the voice sounded next to her ear, making Amita lean forward in order to keep the boy as far away as she could. “Kept me a seat, did you? How nice.”
Aiden Carrow sat down in the empty seat next to Amita, not bothering to fetch out the textbook from his bag. He seemed to notice her stare at his empty desk as he clarified, “Ah, right, you missed a few classes! Today’s practical DADA : none of that boring theory.”
Amita’s gaze roamed through the class, eyes not picking up on another textbook, but instead on a furious Sirius and a worried James. Annoyed, she stuffed the textbook into her bag and removed her wand from its holster.
“I’m telling you right now, any funny business and I’m hexing your arse all the way to muggle London.”
“Don’t worry,” he practically purred, “I’m not the one you’ll have to fight today.”
“What do you—“
“Now, now! Settle down children, as promised we’ll be having a practical class today. After reflexion— and a nice chat with your colleague, here—“ Professor Selwyn pointed Aiden’s way. “I have decided to bring in a magical creature.”
A few murmurs bubbled from the crowd of anxious students. “Now, now, don’t you worry, It’s nothing too scary— well, perhaps for you but not for me.”
Amita had never particularly enjoyed DADA classes. The teachers kept rotating each year and the inconstancies in both the teachers personalities and abilities made it hard to improve in the department.
But that didn’t mean Amita wasn’t good at DADA. She had started, after being disowned by her parents, to learn Occlumency on her own. Her mental defences weren’t perfect, and surely skilled Legilimens like Dumbledore or Voldemort could peak inside her subconscious, but knowing her psyche was Amita’s most powerful asset—and as such, also her greatest weakness—she needed to know how to protect it.
Sometimes however, Amita wished Dumbledore would fully pry into her mind, rip the truth from the fibres of her brain and free her of the weight of the secrets she had swore. But today was not the day.
Professor Prince, her defence professor in 4th year, might have been incompetent in nearly everything, but he certainly was talented when it came to Occlumency. Amita had approached him knowing that, although the Pureblood was loyal to the Dark Lord, he was relatively neutral in his views. Not that anyone at Hogwarts knew, but since she had already read his death a few years past, it wasn’t unknown to poor Amita Rowle.
She had been able to protect her mind so people couldn’t see their own death, but she hadn’t managed to stop herself from seeing them. The girl had quickly come to terms with the fact that she’d never be able to touch a new person without being acutely aware of when their relationship would end, like with James, or Lily.
“Professor, I don’t think Boggarts are a good idea,” Lily spoke up, her gaze not so discretely reaching out to James’.
“I have absolutely no idea why it wouldn’t be beneficial Ms. Evans,” the cold lady sneered, gaze peering inside the red head’s eyes. “Please do explain.”
“We’re in a war,” Lily whisper-shouted, “I don’t think anyone would particularly enjoy seeing multiple You-Know-Who s in class.”
“Do you even know what You-Know-Who looks like, Ms. Evans?”
“No!” She exclaimed quickly, a pinkish tinge reaching her ears.
“I think what my Lilyflower means is-“ James tried to speak only to be interrupted.
“Boggarts can only take the form of what you deem is your worse fear. It looks inside your mind, and as such, if it cannot find the visual representation of said-fear, it will settle for another one,” the Professor explained, voice calm yet authoritative. “Boggarts aren’t smart, Ms. Evans, they are but vessels for fear.”
The class murmured between themselves, convinced by Professor’s explanation. They started chatting about what they thought their fears would be.
Amita thought she wouldn’t have to think much about what her greatest fear was.
She was wrong. Her mind was muffled from the endless possibilities and her unease kept growing.
Amita tried to distract her racing mind by looking around the classroom. Her gaze ended up on a pale-looking Remus—almost as white as Aiden had just turned—which only deepened her anxieties.
What would she see?
Herself?
Riddle?
Her father?
Professor Selwyn’s dainty old fingers unlocked the cabinet in front of the class. As if sensing her vulnerability and distress, the Boggart broke free and darted towards Amita, morphing in front of her scared eyes.
The figure split into two and she could she see on one side wavy black hair and cunning eyes forming, and on the other, her father’s scowl peering through a shapeshifting mist.
Just as quickly, however, it merged back together and transformed into a woman almost identical to Amita.
Her dark black eyes were the same hue as hers, but they were alive with defiance and passion, while Amita’s seemed dead. Her hair was silkier, longer, and her hips were fuller and wider.
A smile stretched across her lips as she raised the package from behind her back. A beautifully wrapped cake stood in her hand and Amita stifled back a gasp.
“I got dessert,” her aunt spoke, “Sorry for scaring you earlier.”
Amita’s faced dropped and her mind started going miles a minute. Why would she be afraid of her aunt? That woman had died years ago, her death had been fated by her ability.
Somehow, Amita knew her talent—although, a cause of torment—was also the only thing that could guarantee her life during a time where no one was safe.
Amita looked over to the teacher who eyed her unimpressed, motioning her to quickly ridiculous it so someone else could try.
Her breath hitched. How could she make it funny? It’s not possible! You can’t laugh about death! She might not fear death, but she still respected it, acknowledged the pain it caused for others.
Amita felt someone grab her arm and braced herself for the incoming visions, only to be met with nothing. Before her stood James, eyes riveted on the boggart who slowly morphed into something else.
She could see his pupils dilated in fear of what was to come, his bottom lip slightly tucked between his teeth. When she saw the materialization of the Boggart, Amita slapped her hands over James’ eyes. She desperately wished she had a second pair to clasp over Sirius’ wide ones in the hopes of alleviating his evident lack of breathing.
James grabbed her hands. “Amita-“
“Don’t-“ she cut off, voice still breathless. “Don’t look. You don’t have to.”
His shoulders dropped and she realized he already knew what was waiting for him if he decided to look. As in almost everything else, James was Amita’s opposite.
Mr. and Mrs. Potter lied on the ground, surrounded by more blood than what was humanely possible.
James loved Lily Evans, muggleborn witch too talented for her own good. He knew he would fight for her if push came to shove, but he also knew that could mean endangering people he wanted safe. His parents’ had stayed clear of any war effort for him—not wanting him to end up an orphan—and here he was preparing himself to do the very thing they swore against.
Amita could feel James tremble against her hand and she finally snapped. “Stop it!” she yelled, eyes locked unto the elderly Selwyn she knew for a fact was the only one in her merlinforsaken family who didn't favour the Dark Lord’s side. Instead, she was convinced the Sacred 28 would keep ruling magical Britain together. “Lily warned you: students will not react well to seeing their worst fears! Not. During. War. Time.”
“War time!” She scoffed, “How preposterous! Miss Rowle, people going missing doesn’t automatically equal war. Nevertheless, 6th year NEWTS students should at least be able to defeat a mere boggart. I’m not going to listen to your criticism if you can’t even do that much.”
Amita felt her blood boil. She was angry, fuming.
She could faintly see someone moving forward in her peripheral view, red hair bouncing to the rhythm of Lily’s angry steps. She wasn’t Prefect and best candidate for next year’s Head Girl for no reason. Amita let go of James.
The Boggart snapped in Lily’s direction, morphing into her sister’s dead corpse.
“Ridiculous,” she whispered.
Soon, Petunia rolled over, tongue dramatically hanging out of her mouth. Her eyes snapped open, and she propped herself up. “How was it? You think I’m gonna pass this audition?”
“You were pathetically bad, Tunia,” she forced herself to laugh, crystal tears leaking out of her emerald eyes.
Oh, Amita thought, her eyes darting back and forth from Lily to James’.
She noticed the way his eyes were filled with a mixture of utter gratefulness and deep sorrow, as if seeing her cry was making his very bones ache.
Oh.
Lily swished her wand gracefully and the vile boggart flew into the cupboard he resided in.
“I defeated the boggart, Professor Selwyn,” Lily spoke lowly, voice dripping with disdain, “I suppose you will listen to my criticism now?”
Selwyn, shell-shocked at the fact two third of the boggarts who had met her students had morphed into dead corpse, cleared her throat. “Right, class dismissed.”
The few NEWTS Defence students scurried out of the door, glad they hadn’t needed to face the boggart. Aiden seemed to run the fastest.
James, on the other hand, seemed physically compelled to check up on Lily. He gently grabbed her shoulders turning her to face him. Her bottom lip was trembling and for one of the rare times, she didn’t yell at him to let her go. He wasn’t sure if he was happy about it or not.
“It’s okay,” he murmured in her ear, holding her close. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Her body crumbled at his soothing reassurance and Amita decided to give the two privacy.
She took Lily’s bag, which James smiled at her for.
Amita felt her stomach churn uncomfortably.
Lily truly had the prettiest green eyes.