CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
FLEETING MOMENTS

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            If there was one thing that Amandla had learned that year it was that Pansy Parkinson loved absolutely stunning in the morning. She looked more peaceful than any other time the Fitzgerald girl would ever see her, and sometimes there would be a few strands of hair in her face with her lips parted as she curled up and let Amandla hold her tightly. And the way their skin contrasted against each other. Simply magical.

         Not the kind of magic they were taught in school, no. This wasn't something given to those, this was something she was just graced with; that kind of magical. Amandla adored her, holding the girl closer to her chest as she saw the sunlight seeping into the room. Pansy's roommates were snoring too, content that the two even kept their clothes on. She was running her hand through Pansy's hair, hearing the soft snores leaving her as well. A small smile formed on her face, wanting to stay there forever.

         Certainly, this was not what she dreamed of when she went to bed at night. Not what she thought of when her thoughts even drifted to the future, but she wouldn't mind this; wouldn't mind waking up to Pansy. That was selfish, though, and extremely unrealistic. She had been seeing through these months how Pansy's gaze seemed to switch from Draco to Theodore Nott. She wished them only happiness.  

         And this sort of dreaming only came in the morning, when she was looking down and seeing this beautiful woman underneath her. Seeing her like this and letting her mind wander to the what if's and saying that she could see her. She would be more than happy with a life involving Pansy Parkinson. In the morning, but as she left and her mind returned to the not love (love? no, lust) filled state, her heart knew she didn't belong to Pansy.

         Through it all, Hermione stayed there. Hermione who looked even more beautiful in the morning and had been graced by the God above. Her angel. Maybe not her angel, not anymore, but an angel she wished would be hers. An angel she had captured and let go when she saw the unhappiness of the girl, even though it broke her heart. The perfect angel had broken her heart. Torn it out of her chest and ripped it to shreds right in front of her as she said all the things Amandla feared, using her weakness against her; Hermione.

         But it was nice to imagine a world where she wasn't heartbroken, with Pansy. If only she could give the girl her heart and have it returned safely. Have another heart to guard. But she didn't, because Pansy liked Theodore and she still had an infatuation for Hermione Granger.

         She flicked her eyes away from Pansy and to the window, seeing the sunlight. With a sigh, she unwrapped her arms from Pansy and started to get up, only for the sleeping, or once sleeping, girl to grab her arm.

         "Stay," Pansy croaked, voice laced with sleep as her eyes were still closed. Amandla softened immediately at the sight of her like that. But who wouldn't with someone so cute?

         "I can't," Amandla whispered, "I promised to walk with Cevira to breakfast."

         The Parkinson girl pouted, causing her to sigh. "Please?" Pansy pleaded, eyes finally to add the full effect on her.

         "I wish I could. Really, I do, but you know I haven't really seen Cevira in a long time. Well, hung out with her, really," Amandla explained.

         This caused Pansy to let go of her arm and puck her lips. Amandla smiled before pecking them. "See you tonight?" the Parkinson girl asked.

         Amandla nodded, "Of course, now go back to bed."

―

         "I think Caesar likes someone," Cevira told her, taking a bite of the pancakes made that morning.

         "Really?" Amandla raised an eyebrow, sipping at her own drink, "I think he was too good for girls."

         The Asian girl shook her head, "He is. I think he's gay, or bi...or whatever else, because he most definitely likes a guy."

         Amandla's eyes widened in surprise. She had never entertained the possibility that Caesar could be gay. He just...seemed so straight, in a sense. "Wait, really?"

         The girl across from her nodded, "Yep. He's been looking at this guy for like a month now. At first, I just thought because, you know, it involved me. And then it became like he was studying the girl, which I thought was a little weird. Now...seems a bit lustful or something."

         "I wish someone would look at me like that..."

         "Shut up, Amandla, this isn't about you and your dreams right now. This is about Caesar. Anyways, I don't wanna ask him about it in case he doesn't want to say anything or gets uncomfortable and pushes me away again, but he definitely likes this guy. It's cute, actually. He just keeps looking at the guy as he waits to be noticed. Which he never it, the sad part of everything."

         "I feel him," Amandla said, "That was how it was like between...well, you know."

         Cevira frowned, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to bring it up in any way..."

         Amandla shook her head, "No, it's fine. I just, I know how that feels. To always try and gain their attention but never actually succeed in it or anything. Hopefully Caesar will have it better than me and not get his heart crushed or anything."

         She sent another look of pity to Amandla before changing the subject, "Anyways, guess who he likes?"

         "Peter? Gregg? They're his friends, right?" Amandla guessed, eating her own pancakes and looking expectantly at her friend.

         Cevira's grin widened as she shook her head, "Nope! It's Corey!"

         This caused Amandla to choke on her pancakes, "Wait – Corey Corey. Like, Copernicus Marcellus Lovegood Corey?"

         She was nodding her head wildly, "Yep! Him! I know, but Caesar's been looking at him for a while now. I think, like, since before Christmas actually. It's so weird, right? But he looks so wistful and everything and it's so cute and Corey doesn't even notice or anything."

         "What if he does notice? What if he's giving Caesar the same looks? The possibilities..." Amandla trailed off, thinking about how she used to think that Hermione looked at her the same way.

         It had been months since everything. That was before Christmas; that was November. And now it's after Christmas and it still hurts to think about her because every time she thinks of how beautiful Hermione was she thinks of also how cruel she was. How she looked when she broke Amandla's heart. No emotion, she recalled, no emotion as she just tore up every of Amandla's dreams with a few simple words.

         I'm straight.

         I like Ron.

          It was all a mistake.

         You're the mistake.

         She was the mistake in everything. Amandla Felicity Fitzgerald ruined everything in her path and that included Hermione. Well, her own selfish dreams of Hermione. That was what she ruined; because she indulged in her desires, even in the state she was in, she ruined her friendship, ruined the prospect of anything. That was the mistake. She knew it. She ruined Cevira. She knew that, knew what she had done and she let the girl go. It was all her fault, if she changed one thing or another, was more honest was more of anything, she wouldn't have ruined the girl before her for so long.

         There was Corey. She ruined him, she knew she had in the past. Maybe she was still ruining him without even realizing it. Maybe she was...she was ruining him, she was drowning him, wasn't she? Did that mean she was ruining Draco as well? All she wanted to do was help, yet he refused her. Maybe Amandla being there, telling him everything he was doing was wrong wasn't helping, maybe it was causing him to drown even faster. She didn't want anyone to drown. She wanted to save them. That was all she wanted, no matter the cost.

         Who else was she going to ruin? Who was next? Was it Pansy? Caesar? Maybe even Cevira again, maybe she would destroy everything again.

         Instead, Amandla plastered on a smile, seeing Cevira nodded, "Maybe he is looking at Caesar the same way..."

         It was always easier to smile, even if it didn't mean anything.

―

         Her morning had been peaceful. She had woken up in her own bed, decided to just get a coffee from the kitchens before retiring back into the Hufflepuff common room. She had neglected schoolwork to attend to anyways. It seemed that her late night adventures to the kitchens and Pansy's room filled all her time and she didn't focus on her studies. But she was trying to balance that more, even if it meant she had to miss a meal or two. School was important.

         So, taking a sip from the drink, she placed the mug down and picked up her quill, answering the question with ease about Transfiguration. That was probably her best class, besides Herbology. And she was just glad she wasn't taking Potions, otherwise she would be failing that along with History of Magic. It wasn't her fault the professor's voice put her to sleep every time she stepped into the class, and she wasn't the only one.

         There was no fire to hear and no flickering to see, just a still room without any noise, unlike how it was at night. Always so full of life, so joyous and loud. And on Friday nights they played board games. Amandla wasn't ashamed to admit she quite liked them and often went to play. Well, not that year. The years before, she was a regular. But that year, it didn't seem so interesting. It didn't give her the feeling she wanted, so she didn't go. Now, she was quite regretting it, seeing as how she hadn't played a board game since the summer before.

         She was truly alone in there, yet she didn't care. Everyone had already left for breakfast and those who hadn't, opting for an hour or so more of sleep, wouldn't be rushing out for another half hour.

         That's when she heard the door open in a rush, a person practically flying into the room. When she looked up, quite quickly at that, she saw an out of breath Cevira standing before her.

         "Draco's been hurt," was all that she could say, and that was in between breaths.

         "W-What?" Amandla sputtered, her peaceful morning ending with just those three words. She had destroyed someone else, hadn't she?

         Cevira nodded her head wildly, "He-he's being transported to the hospital wing now."

         Amandla stood up immediately, forgetting about her sprawled schoolwork and going to the door, "I have to – I have to go..."

         "I know," the Asian girl nodded again, watching as her friend rushed out of the common room and down the halls.

         She was going as fast as she could, everything was happening and she didn't know when it would slow down. Her heart was racing inside her chest, knowing that Draco had been hurt and she didn't know what happened. Amandla passed by many confused students, who were wondering where she was going. But she didn't stop, couldn't stop, until she made it to the hospital wing.

         Then she was there. She was standing at the entrance as she saw Madame Pomphrey racing around the large, open room and Amandla felt like she was frozen. She couldn't move, still hearing her heart racing inside her chest as she just looked into the room and wandered how bad Draco was. She gulped, afraid of the answer yet she forced her feet forward. Right, left, right, left. Until she reached the end of the room where Madame Pomphrey was treating him, Draco unconscious and Amandla let out a cry.

         "Oh god..." she cried, voice cracking at the sight of him. The blood...there was so much blood...

         This, of course, caught Pomphrey's attention, "Child, you can't be back here right now. Go to the front and wait."

         "How – h-how bad is he? What happened? Will-will he be alright?" she fired the questions out without thinking, just the state of her cousin being burned forever into her memory.

         He looked so pale and there were still bags under his eyes. Short torn in places and cut around him, mostly at his right shoulder. He looked like death, all this blood clotting and flowing still and Madame Pomphrey with her herbs and her spells and she didn't even know if he would survive. If she would see him again.

         Amandla froze again, she couldn't move and her knees were buckling as she fell to the ground, collapsing really, and let out a broken sob. He looked dead, he couldn't be dead...he couldn't die. Couldn't leave her like this. Oh god, he could be dead.

         Madame Pomphrey sent her an alarmed look, picking her up and leading her to the entrance where there were seats. She sat the girl down, seeing the tears streaming down her face and hearing her sobs, hearing how Amandla couldn't breathe anymore. She went up, taking her wand and muttering a spell.

         All Amandla heard before the darkness took her was, "Sleep..." and then she was out.

―

         Amandla woke up on a bed, looking around at the same sight she had seen many months before after the fight at the Department of Mysteries. Panicking, her heart rate increased as she frantically looked around. She hadn't been hurt, it hadn't been her, it had been Draco. Where was Draco?

         She took the blanket off her body, ripping it off more accurately, and lifted herself from the bed in rush. Walking out into the middle of the room, she went down until she found herself at the end of the room, looking at Draco. There was more life in his cheeks, bags still under his eyes, and no more blood. Just more wounds. Finally, she allowed herself to breath, knowing that he was alright – he was alive. Not dead.

         Knowing this, she took a seat beside him, shaking him slightly until he was awake. She needed to talk to him, needed to hear what happened. So she shook him again, hearing him groan as he was disturbed, opening his eyes and seeing Amandla standing above him.

         "Amandla...?" his voice was groggy, confusion apparent as he looked up at her and saw her give a great sigh of relief.

         "You're okay," she said, mostly to assure herself, "I-I heard that you were hurt and-and I was so scared, Draco. You don't understand."

         "No, no," he rubbed his face, helping himself wake up, "I do...I-I know what it's like."

         The Department of Mysteries, what happened there. How she was hurt, how he looked at her. "Oh," he did understand, "Right. But – but what happened, Draco? Who hurt you."

         He looked away at that, "It doesn't matter, I'm not going to say anything."

         "Draco, you could've died because of them. Who. Hurt. You?" Amandla repeated the question, growing more impatient.

         "I-I don't want to say anything. No one would believe me anyways, so it doesn't matter. I don't want anyone to know – don't want them to know," Draco muttered.

         "And they won't," she assured him, thinking about the Death Eaters, about Voldemort, what life was like for him. Surrounded by them at his house, never being able to escape, "They don't have to know, they won't, just...just tell me. Please."

         He looked at her with a sad yet hopeful expression, asking, "Will you believe me? No matter what I say?"

         "Of course," she answered without skipping a heartbeat, he was her cousin; he was her family. "Of course I'll believe you, I'll always believe you."

         "Harry Potter did this to me, he almost killed me," Draco admitted, seeing Amandla slump back in her seat, never daring to look away from him.

         "He...he did this to you?" Amandla asked quietly, seeing him nod. She believed him, of course, why would he lie to her? But Harry...he always seemed so nice. But he was also irrational, he was also quick to assume everything even if it was nowhere close to the truth. Sadly, she could see it, and she could see him walking free.

         After all, everyone loved him. Well, everyone that truly mattered. Except, Amandla couldn't find it in herself to like him anymore, not after what he had done. And she was overcome with this feeling of rage, the kind where she would do nothing to stop and get her revenge. Yet she didn't act on it, because she would be painted the criminal, the bad guy. So she just sat there, looked at Draco, and started a normal conversation with him. But Harry would pay, one day. She was going to make sure of it.

―

         Corey grabbed her arm, pulling her into the empty girl's bathroom with Moaning Myrtle. She let it happen, it being obvious that something was bothering him. Another month had passed, and now it was May. School was almost over, the year almost over, and Draco was running out of time. Everyone was running out of time.

         "Corey, Corey are you alright?" she asked as soon as he closed the door.

         "I-I'm freaking out now, I'm really freaking out and I thought I was fine and now...now I'm not. I'm not fine at all," Corey rambled, "I thought I could handle this on my own, but I can't. Not – not anymore."

         "Corey, you're not making any sense," except he was, she understood what he was saying completely and she hated that. She hated that she understood.

         His breathing was haggard, looking at her wildly before handing her a letter. A fresh letter from his father, letting her look at it. Oh no. She understood even more as she looked at the letter. Corey was still drowning, he was still being ruined and she thought he was safe. He acted so safe, she thought he wasn't drowning anymore. Yet here he was; drowning. It wasn't her fault but it still felt that way. He was still drowning.

         "I-I can't, I can't go home or they'll find them. They'll take me, Amandla," Corey said.

         "You'll be fine, I'll sneak you into our house for the time being until he figure something else out," she gave a humorless laugh, "If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly safe either."

         "Amandla, they're going to take me. They're going to hold me prisoner and kill me," Corey looked at her.

         "You're not the only one. Except, they'll skip out on the torture, or they'll make it even worse. But it's inevitable; I'll die," she looked at him, "But...but why?"

         "Isn't it obvious?" he wondered, "My father. My father and his stupid fucking newspaper running the story of Harry and who wronged him."

         At the mention of that boy, she scowled. That dislike was beginning to grow towards hatred. He almost killed Draco.

         "How long have you known?" she settled on asking.

         "Since summer. When I drew away from everyone, I thought it was for the better. That they would take me before summer ended or something. I just wanted it to be easier on everyone. Then I saw how miserable you and Cevira were, how terrible Luna felt and I-I knew it wasn't better. I'm sorry," he explained.

         "I won't let them take you, Corey, I won't let them hurt you," Amandla promised.

         "But at what price? Your life? You being captured?" Corey asked.

         "It doesn't matter," she shook her head, "I have someone who will help me there, you don't. It'll be better if they catch me."

         Corey shook his head, he didn't believe it, but she did. Because she had all these fleeting moments of happiness here, at Hogwarts, with her friends, she would be okay. As long as she kept them alive and safe, as long as they didn't drown, she would pay the price.

         She always would; she always did.