Mended Crown

(1993-1994 School Year)

Amarra felt something touch her arm, and in a move of complete instinct, pushed it was away. She opened her eyes to see her brother’s face above hers, and when he noticed she was awake, he moved back. 

“Did I get you sick with my dreams?” He asked. His voice was soft yet groggy—slumber was still present in his calm, green eyes. “You were profusely kicking your sheets, and mumbling, so I assumed.” 

She sat, and turned her head to the window behind her. Between their house and Nanna’s next door, the sun slowly creeped along the bricks and into the bedroom. She hated herself for being awake so early, but when she turned back to her brother, she noticed how pale he still was. He wasn’t as pale as the woman—their aunt— yet, he looked as hauntingly strange as the man did. 

“I dreamt about your godfather,” she began. She saw his face twist into a form of discomfort. “I think he’s going to break out of Azkaban.” 

His face twisted into something that resembled anger, and he turned away from her. She knew he wasn’t mad about the dream per se, but about what his godfather would do if he broke free from prison. 

“If he does…” he slowly spoke. “He won’t want anything to do with me. He made himself very clear the last time he was here.” 

She didn’t remember the last time his godfather had been to the house. In fact, she barely remembered anything before the age of five, but she knew Alex had. He remembered everything. 

“Maybe Moony will come around this summer,” she heard him say. “I can brew him a batch of wolfsbane before the next moon.” 

The clock chimed seven downstairs, and Amarra laid her head back against the pillow. She did wonder if her own godfather would make an appearance before they left for school again. He wrote to her nearly every month, and since the anti-werewolf legislation act had been passed months prior, he still talked about finding a good job. 

She lifted her head a little to see if her brother had went back to sleep, but he sat on his bed and read. She knew once he was awake, he couldn’t be persuaded to fall asleep again. She turned over toward the wall, and thought back to what she saw. She debated on telling him about the other prisoner, but she knew he would fall strangely quiet in either anger or in thought. 

She hated when he fell deep into his thoughts, because now she couldn’t read his mind unless he invited her in. Strangely vampiric. 

“Are you leaving with Alastor tonight?” She asked.

“Yes, the first round is tonight. And then I have to go back next Wednesday for the quarters, if I make it through,” Alex said. “Dad’s promised to show me one of his spells if I make it past the quarterfinals.” 

She nodded. She could hear the perch in their room shake from Athena’s morning shudder, and she turned to greet the bird. The golden eagle flew to the headboard, and rubbed her beak against Amarra’s hand when she reached to her. “You’ll do great, I reckon. Those people don’t stand a chance.” 

The room fell silent, and she heard the door open minutes later. She looked to her brother’s side—now empty except for the faint hum of the terrarium— then to her bird, who sat beside her. Amarra knew how the day would commence before she even headed down for breakfast, and she wondered if her father could tell her anything about the dream. 

But if she even mentioned Alex’s godfather’s name, she knew Dad wouldn’t discuss it with her. Instead, she pulled her stationary from the bedside and began to write to Remus. 

“Dear Moony, I find it strange that the Ministry has decided to enforce an anti-anything legislation against half of their magical population. Yet, if I know you, you will prevail. Alex mentioned you this morning, and I want to ask if you’ll be around this summer? I have some questions I want to ask, and plus I haven’t seen you in two years. I love you and write back soon—wherever you are. Love, Mara.” 

She dug around in her bedside drawer to retrieve an envelope, and then stood to feed Athena. She opened the window, and with a shiver, sent Athena on her way with the letter. The summer days would only get hotter as the weeks progressed, but even still, she dressed in long sweatpants and a jumper then went downstairs. Alex and their dad stopped their discussion when she came to the table, and she took the newspaper before either one could grab it. The date was what caught her eye first—the tenth of July— two weeks before the supposed breakout. She skimmed through the paper before she threw it back onto the table, and smiled when both the father and the son tried to go for it. 

“A bunch of animals,” she joked when Dad took ahold of the newspaper. “I sent Athena out this morning with a letter. How long do you think it’ll take before Remus responds, Alex?” 

Alex shrugged. She watched him butter a piece of toast. “A couple of days at best. He might’ve moved again.” 

She turned attention to their father, who hid his face behind the paper. He knew something, she could feel it. “Any bets from you, Dad?” 

Dad cleared his throat, and flipped to the next page. “Nope,” he said uncertainly. “I’m sure he’s just as busy as a flock of Puffskeins.” 

Both Amarra and Alex looked at one another—their minds clashed against one another on what to do next. She tapped her foot against the old hardwood floor, while she knew Alex had sent Serpentine up their father’s leg. Dad shuddered at the feeling, and he nearly jumped from his seat when he realized it was in fact a snake up his pants sleeve. 

“Alexander!” 

Amarra giggled, and pulled the newspaper out of her father’s hands. She would refuse to hand it back unless he told. 

Dad sighed, and handed the snake back to his son. “I know that Remus was offered a job.” 

“Where?” She questioned. 

“He’s to be your new Defense professor,” Dad grumbled. After years of wanting the job, Dad never looked happy when the Defense class gained a new professor that wasn’t him.”He’s moved up to Hogsmeade for the summer, so he’ll be rather busy until the new term starts.” 

“So, he won’t be there for Alex’s duels?”

Dad nodded, and looked to his son. “But I’m sure he would love to hear about it. You can help me brew his wolfsbane this year then.” 

Amarra looked to her brother—who had offered previously to do that job, now looked upset that he had been told to do it. “I’ll help you brew it, if it’s that big of deal,” she offered. 

His face contorted into a look of please-don’t and she laughed at his pained expression. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time. It was so hard to explain it to the fire brigade when they showed up.” 

She smiled at the thought of the memory. He was the one who got in trouble because she wanted to help—after she annoyed him for days— and yet Remus was just as happy to receive something from the both of them. 

Alex and Dad discussed the duels while Amarra turned on the television set, and ate her breakfast in the main room. She listened to bits and pieces of their conversation, but the more she tried to understand their words, she more tired she became. She had a feeling—a gut instinct—that her brother would absolutely destroy his competition, but she also understood his anxieties. 

After the Prince Fiasco the year prior, she knew he was scared to use the same alias while people wanted his head for the attack of a pureblood. Now, if he won his duels justly, she knew that the blood elitists would find a way to discredit him, but her brother was tough. He would prevail. 

Athena came back—with no letter— around the time that Alex left with Alastor for the first duel. Nanna tuned into the channel, and Amarra heard the voices of two announcers begin to tell the audiences about the current lineup and how a student had entered the lists.

Nanna had invited the Diggory, Tonks and Lovegood families over to listen to the first round, but only Nymphadora and Luna showed. Dora explained in hushed tones that Cedric was too busy to join them, but would join them if Alex made it to the final round. She spoke very little about her parents, and Luna wasn’t one to talk when Dora began to ramble. 

“Tonight’s duels will consist of five separate sets, and we’re beginning with our newest member, Alexander Prince against a seasoned duelist, Saul Croaker, who almost won the quarterfinal last year.” 

“An Unspeakable,” Dad muttered. “Seems unfair.” 

Amarra shushed him, and listened to the duel intently. The competition had started with a bang. Quite literally. Croaker attempted to blast Alex off of the stage within the first five seconds, but according to the announcers, Alex was an agile snake. Croaker continued to swing with each spell he fired at Alex, but the continuous reaction was that Alex kept dodging. Once Croaker began to wear himself out—as the announcers said—Alex started to fire back with spell after spell until both his opponent and Croaker’s wand were both on the ground. 

“The Minister has given the win to Mr. Prince, and he’s off to the quarterfinals next week! What a smashing start for this young man!”

Amarra had held her breath for most of the broadcast, but once her brother’s name had been announced she, Dora, and Luna cheered for him. They knew Alex would beat anyone he went against. 

——

By the first week of August, Alex had dueled against two other ministry officials; Sturgis Podmore in the quarterfinals and Broderick Bode in the semifinals. Each time, Amarra listened to her brother compete via the radio’s broadcasts, and each time she cheered for him. She was proud—always had been. She knew he could go against greater odds than some minor government officials—even if some of them were Unspeakables— and that he was destined to be the family’s best duelist. 

However, she started to notice that with each win, her brother’s health began to deteriorate once more. On the twenty-fifth of July, both the BBC and WWN warned the publics about the escape of the mass-murderer, Sirius Black; and the second the news entered the household, Amarra watched her brother’s color disappear from his face. She had warned him, and although he had believed her, Alex looked worse for wear. 

At this point, she knew he was fighting to keep the attention off of Black, but for himself. Alex had told her that for once their father looked proud of him, and while she didn’t want to believe that, she could see it in their dad’s eyes. He was proud. Dad’s dark eyes sparkled each time Alex won, or when he started to fight back against tired men. 

Now, however, Amarra was to see her brother fight in-person. She, Dad, Nanna, and Luna were inside an old theatre across from the Leaky Cauldron, in the stands high above the duelist’s stage. Two stands—parallel to one another— looked down upon a purple-coated stage with a taller booth to the left full of Ministry and Wizengmont officials. Below, a small table had been set and the two  WWN announcers sat to discuss the upcoming fight. 

“I think, Peter, that the boy might come out on top. He’s got a pep in his step each time he walks onto the stage, and he loves to keep his opponent on their toes.” 

“I don’t know, Reginald, Crabbe has been dueling for a few years now. He’s not our reigning champion, but he’s got more experience than the boy.” 

While the two broadcasters argued about the duel, Amarra waved to Cedric and Dora once they found their way inside. Luna rambled, rather quietly to her about the various cryptids she knew about, while Cedric and Dora talked about Quidditch. 

Amarra looked eagerly over the rails and to the curtains below either sides of the stands. If she could just talk to her brother, she knew that they would both feel at ease if they were together. Dad had taught Alex a new spell—one of his curses— after the last fight, and while she knew he could do it, she could feel the anxious energy radiate off of his body from this far away. 

He’s just below us, she thought. He’ll be okay. Salazar’s probably with him. 

Alastor came up the stairs slowly—his wooden staff clunked each time he took another step— and he motioned Amarra to come with him. She stood, and followed him to the lower level where upon opening the curtain, she was greeted by her brother’s profound worrisome face. 

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can, but it feels like I can’t. Or I shouldn’t.” 

She took his hands—they shook and were cold—into hers and smiled at him. She pulled a cassette player from her pockets, and handed it to him. “I know that music calms us both down, so I’m sure ABBA will either inspire or misdirect you.” 

“Mum’s gift to us—ABBA, the greatest group to ever exist,” he laughed. For a moment, she was sure that she could see a spot of color in his cheeks.

“I think I saw Blaise up in the stands. And by the looks of it, he also needs some cheering up,” she said. It was a lie—she hadn’t seen Blaise—but she knew that the mention of his only school friend he would gain confidence again. She hoped no mentioned of Sirius Black would be said that night, but from the amount of talk she heard on the way in, Amarra came to understand that neither she nor Alex could escape the discussions. 

The lights flashed outside, and she kissed her brother’s cheek before she left with Alastor. She saw the silver and green aura of Salazar float past her, and she smiled at the thought that her brother would have someone to guide him through this. 

She found her seat just as the announcers spoke to the audience. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Reginald Whitmore, and this here is my partner—”

“Peter McCauley of the Wizarding Wireless Network. We’ve got an exciting duel for everyone tonight. Over the past few weeks, this summer has seen some of the fiercest competition yet. A newcomer, and one of our finalists for tonight, Alexander Prince has fought valiantly against some of the strongest duelists, and yet he has prevailed.”

“A third-year student, nonetheless. Didn’t realize that they teach dueling that young over at the old castle, but from Prince’s track record, he doesn’t need to be taught dueling anymore. I suspect that tonight won’t be the last time we see Prince either,” Whitmore spoke. “However, he’s going against a strong contender. 

“Christoph Crabbe has been dueling for as long as Prince has been alive, and I don’t see Crabbe going down without a fight.” 

“No pun intended,” McCauley joked. 

The stage lights flashed again, and Amarra listened to the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, speak out. He welcomed everyone, and tried to put everyone as ease about the recent prison break. Amarra could almost see her brother’s face grow pale, but she pushed the thought from her head. Fudge continued to describe that the winner will receive a winning of a hundred galleons and a gold-riddled trophy. Then, both Crabbe and Prince were introduced. 

Crabbe walked out with an air of arrogance about him. His hooked nose resembled that of his son, but he wasn’t as pudgy as Crabbe Jr. was, nor was he well-built either. He smiled with crooked and yellow teeth, and waited for Prince to be introduced. 

Amarra looked out to the other end; she saw Cissi lean forward to get a good look at both her husband’s friend, and her godson. Beside her, Draco Malfoy sat with an equal amount of arrogance as his father, but next to him was the one and only, Blaise Zabini. The dark-skinned boy peered out to the other stand, and smiled when Amarra caught his eye. 

Alex will be happy to know I didn’t lie, she thought.  

She caught a glance at her brother just as he made it to the center stage. His black school robes bellowed behind him, the dark green wand fidgeted in his hand, but when he turned after Crabbe refused to shake hands, she saw his face. The scars from the previous school year were bright white against his sallow skin—the slits down his lips and over each eye were considerably shaded—yet she was convinced he had bewitched them to stand out. In his right eye, a blue colored contact stood out, and she watched him wink up at her. 

If this is what he had planned for a disguise; he’s either smart or extremely stupid, she thought. Behind her, Dad snickered, and she turned around to see him cover his smile. Stay out of my head, Batman. 

“Remember gentlemen, the goal is to disarm your opponent. Everything goes including the Unforgivable Curses, but I want a clean fight,” the referee spoke once the two duelist made it to either end of the stage. “Any final bets between the two of you?” 

“I’d like to wager an additional fifty galleons if I were to lose,” Crabbe said. He looked in Alex’s direction, but her brother rose his hands defensively into the air. 

“I’m simply too young to gamble.”

Amarra could almost see the smile on her brother’s face. The Minister urged them to start the duel, and Crabbe was the first to fire. A bolt of green light shot from his wand, and through the crowds’ gasps, zipped in the direction of her brother. 

Alex sidestepped to his right, and the ends of his robes were nearly singed at the curse, but it whistled past him. He stepped back into his original position, and then stepped to his left when Crabbe fired again. Once more Crabbe fired his curse for a third time, and Alex ducked. 

Amarra was so sure that her brother’s eyes were wild with adrenaline, and she watched the fight intently. When Crabbe fired again, her brother’s voice echoed out into the arena and thick ropes shot from his wand to bound around Crabbe’s ankles. The man fell backwards with a loud thud, and struggled to be free of the ropes. 

“Honestly, Crabbe, I beginning to see where your boy gets his incredibly good wits from,” Alex said. “You have two goods hands—have you tried using them?” 

Crabbe let out a yell of frustration, and tapped the rope with his wand. As they disappeared, he stood and began to fire curses without much thought of who they hit. 

Alex blocked them, and then with one fell swoop, his left hand swatted Crabbe’s wand from its owner’s grip. “Accio wand,” he muttered. The wand flew to him, and Crabbe stomped angrily at such a move. 

“Give it back!”

“Such a toddler. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that tantrums aren’t for adults?” Alex dangled the wand before its owner, and when Crabbe tried to snatch it, Alex pulled it back. “Beg for it and I’ll give it back.” 

Amarra could almost hear his thoughts. She looked back to her father, who watched the fight with clouded and intense eyes. He slowly nodded, before she turned back to her brother. “Dad thinks now is the right time to do it.” 

“Perfect,” his thoughts came back. Alex threw the wand to Crabbe, and watched him scramble for it. “I’ll give you one good shot to disarm me, Crabbe.” 

The older man’s hands shook as he held his wand at arms’s length, and his face contorted in a deep concentration. Alex, however, only turned around to face the audience. While the Minister thought this was a risky move—as did Dora and Cedric— Alex smiled directly at Amarra. She smiled back, and saw his wand twirl between his fingers as they waited. 

Finally, when Crabbe fired the Cruciatus Curse—a blue wisp of darkness— Alex turned around and fired a crimson stream. Alex ducked as the torture curse whipped past him, and he stood slowly as Crabbe fell backwards.

The whole audience fell silent as Crabbe began to sputter blood from his lips, and the ground around him turned into a matted puddle of crimson liquid. Amarra had never seen a spell like that, and when she turned to her father, his eyes suddenly became dark. 

He had taught her brother this spell—this curse—and now he looked like he regretted it.

“Mr. Prince…” the minister stuttered. “…if you will…” 

She watched her brother slither across the stage, and then stop short. He looked over the man, and from a distance, she thought she saw a smirk. He squatted beside Crabbe, and spun his wand counterclockwise before he stood. The crowd on the other side started to yell obscenities, and when Amarra looked to where Narcissa had sat, she was no longer there. She turned back to her father, who had also disappeared. 

She knew Dad was in trouble. 

“Might I suggest a spot of dittany for his troubles,” Alex said. He spoke the St. Mungo’s healers, and then turned to face the Minister. He wouldn’t wait for Crabbe to stay, nor for him to even be possibly okay. Instead, Amarra saw the smirk widen, and she knew he truly didn’t care. 

“The winner of this competition is,” the air felt still while the Minister spoke into the theatre. “Mr. Alexander Prince!” 

The atmosphere was still horrified when they left the theatre, and adults moved out of the way as both Amarra and Alex walked past them and out into the street. She excitedly jumped up and down at the amount of gold they had won, and she urged her brother to keep to his deal. The moment they arrived home, Alex divided the winnings into five separate piles. 

Amarra took one pile; Dora took another, then Cedric, then Luna, and finally Alex took what was left. Dora left with Luna, and Cedric apparated home on his accord, but when the Snape family was left alone, the air felt just as still as it had at the arena. 

No one discussed what had happened; Dad looked rather upset at what Amarra assumed Narcissa had said to him. Alastor was the only one who even congratulated Alex after the house had fell silent, but Amarra could see how distraught her brother had become in the sole hour they had been home. 

In the couple of weeks that followed, Amarra watched her brother’s health deplete at the start of each new day. Every morning when she came down, she found him outside with the radio, and each time she stood to stare at him, her father’s voiced reminded her as to why. 

“He’s listening for news about Black.” 

Oftentimes, Nanna would go out there to leave a plate of food for Alex, and when her brother would come back inside, nothing had been touched. Amarra knew he hadn’t been sleeping; his bed was always empty when she awoke, and he often went back to sleep by mid-morning. Yet, even still, he’d be awake again hours later from another nightmare. It was a constant rotation of sleeping draughts and radio broadcasts that kept her aware of what was happening to her brother. 

One morning, after Alex had retired to their bedroom, Amarra went out to get the radio and saw a hooded man across the street. For a moment, when he moved, she thought she saw the runic tattoos she remembered from her dream, but she saw nothing else that could’ve told her who she thought the person to be. She jumped at voice that erupted from the radio, and when she turned back to the figure, he was gone. 

She debated if she wanted to tell her father or not, or go and ask Alex, but she thought against both. Her father, in all his moodiness, would’ve told her not to tell her brother nor to worry about it at all. 

“I was thinking that we head to Diagon Alley today,” Dad said once she came back inside. “Get your new school books, have your robes refitted. You know, the usual stuff?” 

She looked willingly at the stairs, and thought she heard the bedroom door swing open. “Is he joining us?” 

“No, I plan to burn the house down while you two are gone,” Alex said. He came down the stairs two at a time, and through his pale features, he smiled. “Yes, I’m coming.” 

They left minutes later, and while Dad looked rather displeased (in general), they wondered through Diagon Alley to find what they needed for the upcoming school year. Amarra had added an additional three classes to her roster; Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies, and she knew that the workload would be triple for both her and Alex. 

They ordered one copy of The Monster Book of Monsters—much to store owner’s dismay— then proceeded to order the copies of books they would share, or would need for their other classes. On the way out, Amarra waved to the likes of Mr. Potter—who didn’t wave back—but she gave a  laugh when her brother returned the gesture. She pulled on Alex’s arm as she guided him through the streets towards robes parlor, then onwards to Ollivander’s. 

Amarra hummed a tuneless tune while she watched her brother buy wand polish with his earnings, and she turned around to see their father outside the shop. He spoke quietly with another man, before the latter left, and her father entered the shop. Just before he could slip a vial of purple haze into his pocket, Amarra caught his eye. He raised his finger to his lips, and smiled at her. 

It was for her brother. She knew it had to be. 

They returned home shortly thereafter, and while Alex wished to go to bed, Amarra made him watch a movie with her. “Al?” She questioned. “I want to talk to you about something.” 

“Hmm?” He hummed. His eyes were in and out of closure, but he turned his head in her direction. 

“Earlier when you were outside, did anything seem off to you?”

He shrugged. “I listened to the radio, that’s all.” 

“You didn’t see anyone?” 

His eyes opened in an instant, and he stared at her with a questionable gaze. “Why? Did you see someone?” 

She looked to her hands, then to the television set. “I saw someone who I thought could’ve been him.” She had refused to call his godfather by his name, because she knew her brother hated hearing it. “He was standing between the two abandoned houses to our left across the way.” 

She had never seen Alex get to his feet so quickly. He walked to the back door, and she could see nothing back the other brown-bricked houses that gazed back at them. “He’s probably not there anymore. It was just this morning.” 

Except her brother didn’t move. She followed his gaze—lo and behold—in the same spot, stood the hooded figure. She got to her feet, and grabbed his wand and hers from the table. She tossed him his, and he threw open the back door. The second Alex walked out, the hooded figure began to run. 

Alex ran after him, and before Amara could even think about going after her brother, he was gone. They had lived in a mostly abandoned neighborhood since they were toddlers, but she had never once memorized the different streets and routes it would take for her to catch up. She stood in the middle of the street for what felt like an hour; the old factory upon the hill loomed over her, and in the distance she thought she heard a spell backfire. 

“Alex!” She called out into the empty air. The world felt still, it had grown cold. She turned around, and for a second, thought she saw a dementor float between houses. The sky near the factory lit up, and as her legs carried her towards the base of the hill, she looked up. A swarm of wispy black cloaks surrounded the sky above her, and she leveled her wand arm when she felt something touch her. 

She turned around quickly and nearly poked her brother’s eye out. “Oh—I’m sorry!” She said. She felt her brother’s hand grab her wrist. “Alex? What’s going on?” 

Amarra could see the sweat slip down his face, and his lips grew tight with worry. “Did you find him?” 

He nodded, but didn’t say a word until they got back inside. She watched him lock the door and close the blinds before he turned to her. “Don’t say a word of this to Dad.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she whispered. “But the dementors? They shouldn’t be this far out, should they?” 

His eyebrows knitted. “You saw the dementors? In the street?” 

She pulled back the door’s curtains to point at where she had been. She squinted hard at the night sky, and saw the torn ends of the cloaks. “They’re still out there.” 

He came up beside her, and his eyes followed her finger. She heard his breath hitch, and she turned to face him. “What happened out there?” 

His eyes lingered on the sky above them. “I caught up to him by the old foreman’s house at the base of the factory, but he didn’t have his wand on him. He didn’t say anything. When the dementors showed up, I blinked and he had disappeared. He left me there to defend for myself. I performed Lumos in hopes that that would clear them out, but only for a moment 

“They tried to get closer to me, and I recasted it before I ran back to you. I thought they would hurt you—I’m sorry I left you. I had to get you out before they cleared you of your happiness.” 

Her fingers brushed up against his wrist, and she pulled his hand into hers. “I thought I would stick close to the house, but I knew you could find him. I wasn’t expecting them to show up. If the Ministry has sent the dementors out in search of him, do you think they’ll know about tonight?” 

Amarra heard a strange click come from the front door, and both she and Alex raised their wands in defense. The door swung open, and Alastor with his own wand held defensively, looked at the twins with fierce eyes. At once, they all slowly put their wands down. 

“I saw the dementors outside—where’s your father?” 

“He went out,” Alex said. “Nanna?” 

“In the car. Told her to stay put until I checked. What happened?” 

Both of the twins looked at one another, but Amarra would let her brother explain. Alex recounted what had happened, and swore he saw Black. Alastor told them that the Ministry would know by the morning, and that they shouldn’t tell their father about the encounter. “This stays between us,” Alastor said. 

——

By the time that school had recommenced, Amarra could successfully say she survived three dementor encounters. On the train to Hogwarts, while Alex slept and she talked with Blaise, the train had been stopped by the dutifully guards of Azkaban while in search for Sirius Black. Blaise said something about how all the happiness had just been torn from his body, but Alex continued to sleep soundly until Amarra woke him. 

“You mean to tell me that I missed being abducted by Death? I was entirely ready for it!” Alex said, although strangely excited at the prospect of being cornered by dementors. Amarra had rolled her eyes at the exclamation, and watched as her brother fed the bony, black Thestrals before they entered the carriage. 

“Why do we have to stop every time we get to the carriages, Alex?” Blaise asked. “It’s magic that takes us to the castle.” 

Amarra smiled as she listened to her brother and his friend bicker. “You two sound like a married couple.” 

“I simply do not know what an example of that would be, Mara,” Alex said. “I’m sure Blaisy here doesn’t either.” 

Blaise reached across the coach to smack her brother, and she giggled when Alex looked offended. She was so sure that they would start a fight right there, but the carriage pulled to a stop before Alex could retaliate. 

Amarra said her goodbyes to the boys, and caught up with her fellow Ravenclaws as they sat at their table. The sorting ceremony went by smoothly, and Dumbledore gave his annual speech of the dos and don’ts for the year. He introduced two new professors: her godfather, Remus Lupin, as the Defense professor and Hagrid as the Care of Magical Creatures professor. There was a brief mention of the dementors encounter on the train, and how they would guard and protect the students from the threat of Sirius Black. Then, dinner commenced and the Great Hall was filled with a constant and excited chatter. 

The Ravenclaw Tower had always been a favorite place for Amarra, and she often loved the architecture that encapsulated the tower. A grand staircase led the students up to the bronze eagle knocker, and even still more stairs led up to the wide, circular common area. The floors were carpeted in starry formations and divine statures, while the walls held golden arched windows. The ceiling—every night resembled the constellation— while another staircase led up to an observatory. Rowena Ravenclaw’s statue sat in the center and to her left was the girl’s dormitories and to her right was the boy’s. 

Books floated past Amarra and found themselves in new bookcases every time. The silver lanterns bobbed in the air, and the fireplace sat snuggly in one wall. On another wall, a large bookcase covered five separated cubicles, and enchanted plaques signaled when they were open for use. Above the fireplace, a portrait of Rowena and Helena Ravenclaw peered through a silver frame upon the students. 

Amarra found an empty room in the study section of the common room, and smiled when Luna greeted her. They talked for nearly an hour before she sent Luna off to bed, then Rowena found the girl and spoke with her on a couple of matters. 

One of those included the dream she had, and Rowena thought that Amarra should discuss this at her first Divination class. The maternal ghost gifted the girl a couple of books about Divination, and explained to her about Seer work her mother had been gifted. “I think you will find that dreams are best left up to interpretation, but oftentimes they are both a blessing and curse. I hope that the class will both broaden your mind, and show you how to come to terms with your gift.” 

The following morning, after she released Athena out into the world, she met with her brother and Blaise at the Ravenclaw table. “Morning, buffoons. Get any sleep last night, Alex?” 

Her brother shook his head, and then rested it against Blaise’s shoulder. “Slept maybe three hours.” 

“He got his hands on the wireless at some point, and then Nott told him off. Salazar and I found him on the sofa earlier.” Blaise took a piece of toast from the center console, and waved it under Alex’s nose. “What classes do you have today?” 

Amarra looked at her schedule. “Defense, Divination, and then Muggle Studies. What about you two?” 

“I’ve got Muggle Music, Defense, and then Care of Magical Creatures after lunch. He’s got Arithmancy, and then the same as me. Alex talked a little about the Defense professor, I’m hoping I’ll like him more than the last two.” 

“You’ll love him. Remus knows what he’s talking about,” Amarra said. She watched the table fill up with her housemates, and her brother wake from his quick nap. She smiled at him, and while he returned the gesture, she could see how terrible he looked. “Maybe Dad will let you skip his next class so you can sleep.” 

Alex scoffed. “Yeah, right. He’d either make me brew my own sleeping draught, or give me extra work. Plus I don’t think I’d wake up again if he sent me to bed.” 

She laughed, and caught the eyes of their father from the high table. His dark eyes squinted at the sight of his children, and then he stood. 

“Conspiring, are we?” Dad stood above Alex, and the boy jumped at the sound of their father’s voice. “I have a new lesson for you two tonight.” 

“Can I skip it to sleep?” 

Dad shook his head. “Absolutely not. Nor can you do that for my class.” 

Amarra heard her brother grumble. She watched their father leave, and then motioned for Alex to follow her. “You can come too, Blaisy.” 

She led the way out of the Great Hall and up the stairs to the Defense classroom. She knew her godfather would be in there already, and she ran to him when they entered the classroom. “Moony!” 

The shabby-clothed professor caught her, and his scar lines around his face shortened when he smiled. “My darling pup! I meant to send a letter to you, but time got the best of me. I’ve missed you, sweet girl.” 

His clothes were ragged and patched, and his cologne smelled of old spice and weathered wood. “It’s been too long, and so much has happened since we last saw each other.” 

He nodded happily, and then looked to her brother. He motioned Alex to him, and the boy hugged him with comfortable ease. “And look at you, my boy. You’re growing taller each time I see you. I heard all about your duels, and from the reports, you’ll be unstoppable! Who’s this?” 

Amarra motioned Blaise to them, and introduced him to her godfather. Amarra wanted to talk to Remus for forever, but once the first bell sounded, she knew time would be limited. 

Alex and Blaise left as her fellow third-year housemates entered the classroom, and Remus began to discuss what all they would be learning in the months to come. “As I’ve been told, your past professor were unable to teach you anything of value. Now, I want you all to put away your books and quills, because today we’re going have a practical.” 

They followed him down the stairs with their book bags, and they entered the staffroom. Against one wall, a wardrobe shook and tumbled along the floor, and Remus instructed them total out their wands. 

“Who can tell me what a boggart is? And when I let it out, why will it be confused?” He asked. Every single hand shot into the air, and he smiled at the amount of students were willing to answer his question. Amarra watched him call on Sue Li, who replied that the creature was a shape-shifter that takes the shape of what a person fears most. Michael Corner answered that a boggart will only become confused if there is a large crowd of people, because it doesn’t know who to go after. 

“Good job, points to both of you! Now, in order for it not become confused, we’ll take turns on who it targets. When it does—take the shape of your fears—I want you to point at it and say Riddikulus. Our job, as the rest of the class, is to repel the creature by the use of laughter. Do you think we can do that?” 

A collective nod came from Amarra’s housemates, and Remus motioned to Padma Patil to go first. The boggart flew from the wardrobe, and immediately took the shape of a giant snake. At once, she called out the charm and the snake shifted to a bobble-head clown, and the class laughed. 

Each time another student went, Remus sent the boggart back into its hideaway, until finally Amarra went. She couldn’t picture what she feared most, but the moment the creature reemerged, it took the form of multiple beings. Black cloaked and wispy, a circle of dementors encapsulated her. They drew closer to her, and while she saw Remus move closer to her, she knew her housemates had backed away. 

“Here!” Remus moved in front of her, and for a moment, the creature shifted to a sole being. The lunar orb focused heavily on him, and with the motion of his wand, Remus banished the boggart back into the wardrobe. “Well, I think that’s enough for today’s lesson.” 

Amarra could feel her heart in her throat. Her hand shook from the grasp she held on her wand, and she heard Remus talk to the other students. She could’ve stopped it. She could’ve banished the boggart herself. Yet that night haunted her. 

The bell rung, and she felt Remus’ hand on her shoulder. Something slipped into the palm of her hand, and she looked to the foil covered object. She smiled at her godfather. “Chocolate—it always helps.” 

She found her brother outside of the Defense classroom, and told both he and Blaise about their first lesson. She would tell him—after his session—about what she saw, because she fully wanted to know what he would see. If he saw anything. 

She caught up to her housemates outside of the Divination ladder, and they entered the stuffy, purple-hazed classroom. Amarra sat among her friends, although she heard them whisper behind her back. From the shadows, a dreamy and dry voice broke the chatter after the last bell. 

“It is a pleasure to see you all in the physical world. I’m Professor Trelawney, and I’m so very glad that you all have chosen the most difficult course of the magical arts.” 

Amarra looked around; she noticed some of her housemates had already learned that the class would be the perfect place to sleep, and she turned back to see the professor rather close to her. 

“Some of you might’ve already been gifted with the Inner Eye—tell me girl, what do you specialize in?” Professor Trelawney pointed in Amarra’s direction, and the girl gulped at how she wanted to say her next few words. 

“Dreams,” was all she could muster. “My brother and I are gifted with the sight of dreams.” 

“Such gifts passed from your mother, she was quite a formidable Seer.” 

Yeah, she even predicted her own death, Amarra thought. 

Behind her, Amarra could hear the whispers from some of her male housemates. “Yeah, her brother is notorious for his dreams, so much in fact that he wakes the whole house.” 

She turned to see who had made such a claim—although true—she found Anthony Goldstein to have covered his mouth before she could open hers. 

“Today, I will be showing you how read tea leaves. A delicate process—one must drink their tea and from the leaves, predict the future of your partner.” Amarra had been paired with Lisa Turpin, who refused to believe anything Amarra had said, and caused a great disturbance once the girl had predicted that happiness would cause Lisa a rash. 

“You’re such a great Seer, Amarra. I’m sure whatever you said will—” Lisa’s words had fallen short once the Ravenclaws spotted the fight that occurred at the entrance of the Great Hall. 

Amarra pushed through the crowd, and found her brother atop of Malfoy, the latter cried out of fear. 

“Stop, Snape! Help!” 

Alex had smacked Malfoy so hard across his face that the sound echoed off the walls, and students winced at hard her brother had hit the other boy. Amarra watched as Blaise wrapped his arms around Alex’s midriff and pulled him from Malfoy. She came up in front of her brother, and although his eyes were wild with anger, they calmed at the sight of her. 

Remus came through the main doors at once, and he stared at the blonde-haired boy on the ground. “Go on, get to lunch!” He ordered the other students away and helped Malfoy to his feet. 

“Does this have anything to do with my class, boys?”

Amarra eyed the hand print on Malfoy’s face, and then turned back to her brother. She wondered what he saw in the boggart.

“No, sir,” Alex finally said. “Malfoy and I just have issues, that’s all.” 

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Issues? You’re the problem here, Snape. You’ve always been the problem.” 

For a moment, Amarra thought she saw the anger return to her brother’s eyes. “I’m the issue? You said some shit about my dead mother, Malfoy!” 

Blaise pulled Alex back as he tried to lunge at Malfoy again, and the other boy hid behind Remus. The professor put his hands in-between the two boys. “Stop it, both of you at once! Alex, walk it off, now!”

Amarra watched as Blaise let Alex go, and she wanted to follow him back to the common room, but her godfather stopped her. He pointed her and Blaise into the Great Hall, and turned to speak with Malfoy alone. 

“What happened?” She asked once they sat. 

Blaise was quiet for a moment as he filled his plate and a napkin with food. “We did the lesson like you said we would. Everyone showed off their fears, and we laughed at what the charm gave us to work with. When it came time for Alex to go, the boggart came out and nothing happened.

“You could literally see it writhe in pain—it didn’t know what to shift into. So I went after, and it shifted into a clown. After that, Lupin made Alex go again. I don’t what he expected to see, but the boggart continued to writhe before it found something. I thought it looked like you but Malfoy said it was your mother—both dead.” 

She felt her heart sink. Her brother had witnessed their mother’s death—she had only witnessed the torture—but he had seen it all. And he still remembered it. She could feel her eyes water, and she looked longingly at the door. “Our mother has been dead for years. It had to have been me.” 

“I think he thought of something so the lesson would end. I’m sure whatever his fears are, they don’t involve you getting hurt.” 

Muggle Studies was as boring as she thought it would be. However, at dinner, she learned that Malfoy had ruined Hagrid’s first Beasts class and was attacked by Buckbeak—her aunt’s hippogriff. Padma had told her and Luna that while Malfoy cried out after the attack, Alex stood further back and laughed. 

She knew it had to have been karma. 

Amarra found herself, after dinner, in her father’s office for Patronus lessons. Her brother was still reeled from Malfoy’s defeat, and spent most of the lesson with a complete smile on his face. 

“The Patronus Charm is a powerful defensive spell that uses the caster’s positive emotions and good heart as a means of protection against Dementors and Lethifolds. Thanks to the Ministry’s decree, the dementors have a means of both protecting and terrorizing the students as if they are prisoners. While I cannot get a real dementor in here, Remus has allowed me to use the staffroom’s boggart as a guide,” their father said. 

“What I want from both you—under the guise of Remus and myself—is to practice summoning your own patronus. The incantation is Expecto Patronum, repeat it back.” 

The twins recited the words, and Dad motioned for Alex to go first. Remus released the boggart from its trunk, and it transformed rather quickly into a dementor. She watched her brother’s movements—how elegant he looked when he raised his wand and recited the incantation. 

At first his voice began to trail off, and she noticed his eyes flutter to try to stay open. Then, he said it again and a wisp of silvery-blue sputtered from his wand. The false Demeter grew closer to him, and she watched as he fell to his knees. 

“What did you use?” She asked him once he regained consciousness. Remus came up to her brother with a foiled package. 

Alex smiled at the thought he had used, and she immediately knew. Their father, in his disappointed demeanor, said, “using Malfoy getting attacked by Buckbeak is not a probable memory. Find another for next week.” 

Amarra stood at attention and when the flash dementor was sent her way, she used the one memory that came into her mind first. She smiled at the thought, and while her own wand sputtered to give the same wisp her brother had produced, nothing came out. She felt Remus reach for her when she fell, and she smiled at his scarred face. 

“I think that memory of Aunt Fauna and the hippogriffs didn’t have enough manpower,” she joked. 

“You’ve got a week to find something else,” Remus said calmly. His voice had always soothed her over, and her smile grew at his words. “I know you’ll get the hang of it.” 

——

That night, while the rest of the common room slept, Amarra was wide awake in her loft. She had found it the year prior behind the fireplace, and she often used it as her own study room and Chamber. It was quiet yet cramped. The colored pillows and moon-shaped rug against the hardwood floors faced a circular window that overlooked the tops of the forest and the lows of the sky. She found comfort in it, because she knew it was a spot her mother often frequented. 

She read over the books that had been left behind, and her new ones about dream interpretation. A candle flickered on the fruit crate, and she watched it for a moment or two. “Rowena, do you think that Mum knew Alex and I would get this gift?”

The blue ghost’s head appeared out of the wall, and she pondered the question. “Rebecca knew that if she had a daughter, then she would be blessed with the gift of foresight—as her mother did before her. I don’t think she expected your brother to have it, however.” 

Amarra’s eyebrows knitted. “What do you mean? Is the gift of foresight strictly a woman’s gift?” 

“No, not necessarily, but it is more common in women. The Oracle of Delphi was strictly a woman; centaurs deal with divination, but their form takes years to master and they look upon the stars to guide them. I was quite surprised that your brother was gifted with dreamy divination, and yet he chose not to take the class.” 

“He thought I would have more of a kick out of it. And he’s right. I was always taught to hone in on my skills of divination and astronomy, just like Mum. While  Alex learned from Dad. But I wonder if my dreams have the same impact as Alex’s does to him?” 

“You both will learn how to hone your skills of predictions in time. Whether he chooses to take Divination or not, that’s up to him. But for you, your interpretations will be far different from his. Every Seer is given a different insight, you just have to choose which one you want to deal with. Now, go to bed, sweet girl. I foresee a great deal of triumph in the morning.” Rowena winked to her, and the disappeared back into the wall. 

Amarra with a smile on her lips, rolled her eyes and stood from her corner. She went down the ladder then up the stairs to her dormitory. She found Athena nestled on her bed when she entered the room, and she climbed in before she pulled the feathered creature close to her chest. “Good night, birdie,” she whispered. 

The next morning, Amarra learned that Rowena wasn’t lying. In fact, her prediction about Lisa Turpin’s had come true and the latter barely scratched herself to death. Amarra hid her smile from her housemates most of the day, but she knew that perhaps Divination was in her cards after all.