CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
HOW LIFE IS NOW

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Amandla didn't know why (actually, she did, but shush), but every night that summer she found herself with a bottle of liquor from the kitchen and oncoming dreams that would never become a reality. She took a swing of the alcohol, grimacing at the bitter taste, drowning her sorrows and wanting to forget.

         The cycle never stopped. No matter how many times she thought about Cevira, what she would think, or of her parents, she never did. The two house elves that Anastasia had employed after moving back into the house after summer with the Order knew better than to complain anymore – not after her threats. She had said, quite sternly with a little slur, that she would give them an item of her own clothing if they ever tried to complain about her habits again. That shut them up quickly, Amandla felt a little guilt for what she had done, but her drunken mind told her not to sorry.

         She sat against the closed door, silence surrounding her as Cevira snored quietly and the Fitzgerald girl stared at the dark scene, only lifting her arms to capture her mouth with the bottle. Breathing out, she could faintly smell the putrid breath the alcohol had given her, waiting for the grimace of leave herself before continuing again.

         There was only the sound of Cevira's snores comforting her, but if you removed that, she would be alone in the room with just silence. Maybe, if she were truly alone without a sleeping girl, a record would be playing, not that she would concentrate on the lyrics. But, alas, she wasn't alone.

         There was a little fire inside her as the buzz of the alcohol let her thoughts fade, freeing her from the stress they usually caused her. In soberness, she usually thought of her family. She had grandparents she had never met, on both sides, and for a good reason, but she still wondered if they were alive or not. Probably the latter, quite honestly. And then there was her mother.

         Her mother...well, and father. But forgetting him for the moment, she always thought of her mother and the spell book, which she no longer had in her possession anymore. After the battle last year, and the revelation of her lineage and the spells, Dumbledore had asked her to hand over the spell book 'for the good of the Order.' Of course, Amandla didn't want to. Not because she didn't support their cause, but because it was one of the last things she had of her parents. But in the end, Dumbledore's persuasive words won and they book no longer belonged to the King/Fitzgerald family, but the Order of the Phoenix.

         But back to the spells. She often thought of her mother and the counter-curse for the killing curse. Of course she had to know about, so why hadn't she used it when she was being killed? Why would she leave Amandla an orphan? Unless, she wanted to die...

         No, not that. It couldn't be that, she didn't think she could handle it if that were the truth. Gwendolyn, her mother, had to have wanted to live – not for herself, but at least for her daughter. Like everything she had done, like running away from her home.

         Blinking and shaking her head, Amandla let her thoughts continue to something else. Something easier to think of. Aiden King; her uncle. Dead uncle. She had never met him, well, maybe she did and she just couldn't remember it, but she also never heard much about him. Whenever she asked as a child, her mother would blink away her tears and tell her to go draw. So, Amandla was left almost completely oblivious about him.

         But there was always a name that she heard with Aiden's. Waverly Hart. Who was she? Was she Aiden's girlfriend? Wife? Best friend? Well, Amandla didn't know. But whenever he was mentioned, Waverly Hart was too.

         Another swing. It felt good, the alcohol, clouding her senses until she forgot that even a second ago her thoughts fluttered to her uncle. She thought of how she would've like to have a blue room. Light blue, like the sky on pretty days. That would be nice – her favorite color had always been blue. Not royal blue, she hated that color, but more of a teal or baby blue. Sky too, of course, that would be good for a wall color...right?

         Maybe one day, when she moved into a flat of her own, there would be blue statement wall in the living room. You know, if her landlord would allow it, of course.

         And her mind fluttered to her dreams. What would she like to be? Right...a Healer. Although, that didn't seem to fit either. All she seemed to do was destroy things...not heal them. That was the dream, she supposed, to mend everything instead of break them...but that didn't seem like an attainable goal for her. Maybe she would leave the wizarding world behind for good. That would be nice. No more pesky reminders of her parents and how bad her family was. That would be nice. Just the muggle world surrounding her.

         Then she snoring stopped, signaling that Cevira was awake. She heard the girl turn towards her bed, her head lifting as she said in a groggy voice, "Amandla?"

         "Here," she answered. Shit. She hadn't a chance to hide the liquor. Fuck. The girl still didn't know of her recent liking towards the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. Shit, fuck, shit. This was bad. Maybe she could throw it under her bed...no. That would only make everything worse.

         First, there would be liquor of the ground, and then the room would smell like that. Second, it would break, creating a loud noise and Anastasia would wake up. And third, she would really have to have a good lie as to why there was alcohol in their room. So nope. No throwing the bottle. Lifting up her back from the wall, she quietly moved the bottle behind her back, pressing against it rather uncomfortably.

         "What are you doing on the floor?" Cevira asked, her eyes barely open as she struggled to keep them open at all.

         "Was thinking, is all," Amandla shrugged, "Couldn't sleep."

         "Still, come back to bed, alright? It's late...probably early morning, actually," Cevira rubbed her eyes, "You can think in the morning."

         Oh, if it were only that simple for Amandla. Sighing though, she stood up, still hiding the bottle under bed. She placed it on the opposite side of her bed from where Cevira could see it, lying down as the Stature girl did the same. When Amandla heard the snoring again, she left the room with the bottle and returned it to its cabinet before tiptoeing back up the stairs and into bed.

         Sleep didn't come easily, but eventually it did come. And her dreams were filled with more unattainable thoughts.

―

         The next day, they went to Diagon Alley to shop for the new school year. Caesar, the beloved son, stood beside her mother as she held her head high and often grimaced at the look of other children and their parents, thinking that she was above them. Amandla locked hands with Cevira, a little piece of comfort as her heard raced from how crowded everything was.

         But of course it was crowded – it was Diagon Alley for crying out loud! Even Hogsmeade, on those Saturday trips, weren't that crowded. The good thing, though, was that the joke shop ran by the infamous Weasley twins was open in the area. And she knew that Anastasia would forget about them, allowing her to leave with Cevira and explore the new shop.     

         They continued to walk as Anastasia held the list for the new school year. Currently, they had grabbed some new quills, a couple books, and were on their way for Caesar to buy some new uniforms. Once they reached the shop, Anastasia brushed the girls off and focused on her son.

         When they were about to enter, Anastasia leaving the two in the cold, Caesar stopped and looked at them. "Mum, Cevira and Amandla haven't gotten new uniforms in years, don't you think they should buy some new ones?"

         Amandla, unsurprisingly, was shocked at what came from his mouth, and for good reason too. Caesar often didn't well – scratch that, he never did – think of the girls and what they would want. He always held his head high, like his mother, and bragged about everything he was good at. He never thought of the girls, so this was new to them.

         Anastasia bit her lip, looking between the girls and her son, "Well...I really don't think they would need them..."

         "It's our sixth year, they haven't bought any new uniforms since fourth," Caesar reminded her.

         "But, Caesar, we only have so much money –"

         "Then take back my owl, I don't need a new one," Caesar countered again.

         "Oh, you know that Fredrick was a nuisance too, of course you need this new one," Anastasia disagreed.

         "Mother..." ouch, Caesar never called that, only Cevira did. But that, of course, was because that was the only name she answered to for her daughter.

         "Fine," Anastasia broke, "I guess that the girls might need some new uniforms as well..."

         Cevira smiled, sending a silent 'thank you' to Caesar, who nodded. Amandla said, though, "Cevira's the same size as me. I think I'm going to look around a bit."

         "Alright, but meet us at the ice cream shop in half an hour, alright?" Anastasia agreed again, shocking her even more.

         Without hesitation, she nodded. Bidding them farewell before moving back into the crowded streets and to the new jokes shop. There was a small on her face, the first time in a long time that she hadn't feel so dully numb during the day. It was weird, having that feeling of alive burning in her chest without alcohol in her system, but she didn't question it. Not at that moment, anyways. It was too good for her to ruin.

         Reaching the shop, she walked into an equally crowded and even crazier inside. For a moment, she was frozen still as she blinked and took in the insanity. She loved it.

         Moving again, she looked through the shop with wonder-filled eyes, feeling like a child again. Oh, how she wished that she could actually be one again...

         She saw Hermione, holding an item and looking at her before hearing one of the owners telling her that it was a love potion. Immediately, the Granger girl dropped it while sporting a blush on her face. Amandla, with a fond smile, adored her for another moment for deciding that if she stared any longer, it would be considered weird.

         With nothing truly catching her eye (well, there were many things that caught her eye), she decided that she didn't need anything. There was nothing that she was just dying to have, that she would crave every waking moment until she had it in her grasp. Turning to leave and maybe go to the stationary shop again, she heard her name being called.

         "Amandla!" a fair, smooth voice called. Her heart stopped for a moment when she turned around and saw that it was Hermione who called her. "I hope that you've been having a good summer," she smiled.

         The Fitzgerald girl managed to smile back, "Yeah...haven't done much, but it's been great. You know, playing games with Cevira and stuff...Anyways, how was your summer?"

         She knew that she was going red from embarrassment. How much a loser did she sound like, talking about playing board games. But the Granger girl didn't seem to notice, "I haven't done so much this summer either, mum and dad decided not to take another trip to France this time."

         "Oh France sounds lovely! I would love to visit there one day, slow dance in the park and see the Eiffel Tower," Amandla smiled, thinking of the future once again.

         "Well, I do love a good slow dance, but the Eiffel Tower isn't really worth what it's made out to be. Yeah, I mean, it's nice, I but have a raging fear of heights so I didn't really enjoy being up there," Hermione said.

         Amandla nodded, "Me too, but it's not as bad as my fear of spiders...absolutely terrifying, they are."

         She hummed in agreement, "Well, I have to go. I've been staying with the Weasleys for a little while before school starts, Mrs. Weasley took us shopping today. It was nice seeing you, though."

         Amandla felt herself smiling widely, "You too!" Hermione was off after that, but the girl didn't mind, all she thought of was how Hermione fucking Granger just had a conversation with her – wanted to have a conversation with her.

         Leaving the shop to go meet up with the Statures, the smile stood prominent of her face. Hermione had spoken to her – her crush had spoken to her! Maybe one of her dreams were attainable after all...

I missed Caesar, so here he is again!