CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
RECOVERY

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    It felt weird. Everything felt weird. She imagined that she would feel the cold of a floor, or have any discomfort, but instead she was met with warmth of a blanket, and hand in her own, and another life caring about hers. There was only comfort, and Amandla knew that she was safe.

        Maybe it was the blanket draped over her. It didn't reach her shoulders, leaving them quite cold, but the thought of it. Someone else was caring about her. The air was a bit warm, enough for her bare shoulders not to cause her to shiver. Amandla slept with every part of her body covered except her face, and this was different.

       Someone had reached under her blanket as well to place their hand in hers. It was soft, not calloused or rough, dainty enough, barely touching her like she was made of porcelain. Cevira, she decided. It had to be. The hand didn't move, and she could hear faint snores. Definitely Cevira, she always snored. Not loudly, but loud enough to be heard from the next bed over.

        There wasn't any other noise, though. It was probably late, Cevira was sleeping and she just awoke. There was no pain, no ache, nothing. Perfectly content, but it felt too weird.

        Was she dead?

        Probably. She was probably dead and on the other side and her mind created the image of Cevira and comfort and she was dead. Her heart raced at the thought and her throat ran dry. It was a possibility, she had been hit by a spell from Bellatrix Lestrange earlier that day...or was it? Truthfully, Amandla didn't really know of what happened or how long she was out.

        Her eyes fluttered open then. There was barely any light, only the stars dimly illuminating her surroundings. Her doe brown eyes shuffled over to a curtain before seeing Cevira. She was asleep, curled up in an uncomfortable chair with a blanket over herself as her hand poked out to hold Amandla's.

        Amandla felt bad that she stayed, sleeping in that chair when her back and neck would be killing her tomorrow. But that she true friendship. She looked around again and found no one else. They were probably told to leave for the night and Cevira just so happened to sneak back in after curfew to stay with her. Pomphrey would be made when she found the Stature girl, but wouldn't give her detention. Probably.

        Overall, Amandla realized, she felt tired. Even after she had just woken up and probably could've stayed up until the sun rose and people began to wake, she didn't. She yawned, knowing that a little bit more sleep wouldn't hurt her, and then she closed her eyes again, swiftly falling back into the paradise.

        And then she felt light on her eyes. Amandla wanted to groan, like she usually did in the mornings when she woke up, but she didn't. There was probably a grimace on her face, though. The Fitzgerald found no warmth from another hand in her own, a feeling of disappointment following it.

        Voices were heard too, and Amandla knew that it was time to officially wake up. Her eyes fluttered open again, but no one seemed to notice at first. She saw Corey and Cevira talking, Sirius Black - wait, Sirius Black? - talking with Dumbledore and overall she just felt so confused.

        And when she was about to speak, she noticed just how dry her throat was. It became irritating after that, she couldn't stop thinking about the itch. Again she opened her mouth, and croaked out, "Can I get a glass of water, please?"

        No one moved. They froze, looking at Amandla like she had grown three heads. And, seeing as they were wizards, she didn't think much of it. Madam Pomphrey snapped out of her state of shock first, racing for the water she asked kindly for as Cevira threw her arms around Amandla.

        "You're okay!" she cried. No really, Cevira began to cry. Amandla smiled, chuckling. "I was so worried, Mel, seeing you go down like that...I thought you died."

        Amandla was about to agree, she thought she died as well, but stopped herself. Cevira probably didn't want to hear that. Instead, she just smiled.

        "But it was so awesome seeing you fight Bellatrix!" Corey exclaimed, looking on the bright side, "I never knew you were good at dueling."

        "I didn't either," Amandla answered after taking a sip of her warm water, "I just knew that I had to do something."

        It was then that she remembered that Sirius Black was there, smiling down at her. How was he there? Wasn't he a wanted man? Alleged murderer? So what was he doing now, standing so freely here in Hogwarts having a little chat with Pomphrey?

        No time for questions, she thought, as Dumbledore, who left when she awoke, returned with some of the other members of the Order and the DA. They all looked relieved to see her, see that she wasn't dead after all. Amandla gave them an awkward smile.

        "Miss Stature, nice to see that you've woken up well," Dumbledore kindly smiled. She nodded, he continued. "You're probably wondering about Mr. Black here, right? Well, after you saved his life, we all had a chat with the Minister about who really committed that mass murder, and he was free to leave."

        "And Harry's moving in with me," Sirius beamed, Amandla was happy for them.

        She was happy, but of course that happiness didn't live forever. What had she done? She had just guaranteed her death! Standing against the Death Eaters...becoming a bloodtraitor to them...she was a dead woman walking. Of course, it wasn't like she could voice those concerns, seeing as no one actually knew about her lineage except Sirius.

        Speaking of him, he chuckled, "You remind me so much of your mother, Amandla..."

        She felt her heart swell with pride. She often didn't get complimented about her parents, seeing as they didn't actually know them, but hearing this...it made her think that her parents would be proud of her. That she had nothing to worry about, at least just for a second.

        The mood turned sour again when Hermione Granger cleared her throat and asked, "Amandla, how exactly did Bellatrix know your name? We're all wondering here."

        "Yeah, and why Draco Malfoy hugged you before we left," Cevira added, disgust filling her voice when she spoke his name.

        Oh, here it was. Time to come clean about everything. "He's my cousin," she spoke meekly.

        "But I thought you didn't know any family members," Cevira frowned. Shit.

        "I, uh, lied...I had to," Amandla felt suddenly meek, wishing that she never opened her eyes at all.

        "Lied?" Harry Potter asked. Why was he here? "You're related to Malfoy?"

        She nodded. He rolled his eyes. "Why...why didn't you tell me?" Cevira muttered, hurt dripping from her voice.

        Amandla felt ashamed. "I couldn't. I couldn't say anything...I just..."

        "Why? The first thing I would do is speak out," Ron Weasley questioned.

        Anger began to rise inside her. "Yeah? Now they want me dead. It's only a matter time."

        "Don't think like that," Cevira said quickly, "Please..."

        "No, it's true. They'll do whatever to kill me, probably torture me first so I'll pay for what I did and what my parents did," Amandla spat.

        "Who are your parents?" Hermione asked, Amandla bowed her head.

        "Isaiah and Gwendolyn Fitzgerald," Sirius answered for her, "Otherwise known as the only two people from Slytherin that I actually liked."

        "What happened to them?" Cevira asked, "Mum always said they were killed."

        "They were," Amandla nodded her head hesitantly, "By Death Eaters who were angry at them for running. Before Voldemort fell, they ran away. It was after my uncle's death, didn't talk to anyone from their families except for the Malfoys because of Draco.

        "When I was six, they brought us out to go to the park. When I returned home, the four of us found the dead bodies of my parents," there was a moment of silence, "And then they faked my death, said that I died that day as well. Then Narcissa brought me to the Statures...I couldn't say anything."

        After another beat of silence, Cevira choked out, "I'm sorry."

        She smiled weakly, "It's alright."

        "How did you know the counter-curse for the killing curse?" Dumbledore asked, "It doesn't exist."

        "My mother's spell book," she answered, "Well, originally it was my uncle's, but after he died, my mum took it. Added on some spells as well. I studied from it."

        And there were no more questions.

―

        Draco came by later, after dinner when no one else was there. He hugged her tightly and repeating told her that he was sorry, that he should've never allowed her to leave Hogwarts because she almost died. That was something about Draco, no one knew that he cared. Really, he cared a lot, and Amandla loved him for that.

        And then school ended, Amandla boarded the train and sat with Cevira and Corey. They spoke like nothing happened, Corey complained about summer, not wanting to spend it with Luna again, hearing her go on and on about the creatures he didn't think existed. It was good. It was normal. It was like nothing happened.

        So she went back to the Statures. Anastasia embraced Caesar tightly, her golden child, spared only a glance to the girls before taking them home. Or, at least, the house they stayed in.

        And everything was normal. Amandla mainly stayed in her and Cevira's room, listening to the old records again and again, the same tunes drowning out the world surrounding her. After dinner, she played Clue or Monopoly with Cevira, sometimes Scrabble, and the two would play for hours until Anastasia told them to turn off the lights and be quiet.

        On the rare occasion that Anastasia Stature went out, the two would go into the living room and watch a film on the muggle television. But that, of course, was quite rare. Caesar didn't speak to them that much, choosing to keep a distance, not that Amandla minded.

        So that's how the first weeks of summer went, before she found alcohol. It was midnight, everyone was asleep except for her because she was too paranoid that a Death Eater would show up in the middle of the night and kill her. But when she found the cabinet containing alcohol in the house, something was sparked in Amandla.

        She was so incredibly numb, accepting her fate and waiting to be killed, that she didn't know what to do with her life. And then alcohol appeared. At first, it was just one sip of a bottle full of liquor, causing her to grimace, and then she was downing the bottle.

        Amandla didn't like the taste at first, only taking a few sips before deciding to go back upstairs, but she found that the buzz was nice. She wasn't numb. She could pretend to be happy and alive with that buzz, like nothing was wrong with her.

        So the next night, she tried it again, drinking a little more and she found that she was forgetting her problems. Her mind when to alcohol and this great feeling that she felt, like she was finally alive again. So again, the next night, she had more.

        It got to that point until she woke up with constant headaches and puking in the bathroom, but yet still craving the buzz once noon arrived and she felt dead again. Amandla began to look forward to the times when everyone was asleep and she could just drink, feel alive again.

        She didn't mind that she forgot most nights that she drank, she didn't want to remember anyways. When she remembered, she thought of how her left arm should be branded and she should be a killer. When she remembered, she thought about how she just signed her death. When she remembered, her mind wandered to how she should've been at the Malfoy Manor with Draco, becoming the thing her parents never wanted her to be.

        But the most painful thing, besides Draco, had to be how she thought of her mother. Her mother had the same spell book she did, knew the same spells, knew the counter-curse for Avada Kadavra, yet it still killed her.

        Did her mother want to die? Did her mother want to leave Amandla behind? Did she...

        The thoughts, they got to her constantly. So she didn't want to remember, she wanted to drink. It didn't matter if it hurt in the morning, she felt good in the moment. That was all that mattered.

        So, unbeknownst to her, Amandla became exactly like her uncle - and something else her mother never wanted for her to become, without even realizing it.

END OF ACT ONE.