CHAPTER TEN.
TOAD-LIKE GRIN

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Amandla found comfort with only her friends after returning from Hogwarts. Draco had tried to speak to her after their return to the beloved school, but instead of listening him out and forgiving him like Amandla used to do, she gave him the cold shoulder and walked away. To say that the Fitzgerald girl was furious at him was an understatement.

    They ratted her out - her family ratted out. Family was supposed to protect each other, like her parents protected her, but they gave her away to save themselves. Amandla wasn't one to trust the words of Bellatrix LeStrange, but she did trust the guilty expressions of the Malfoys upon the truth being revealed to their beloved Amandla. She thought they cared, she thought they would do anything to protect her like she would them, but she guessed wrong. But she was especially wrong about Draco.

    Weeks had passed but the cold air still managed a little tint of pink to stain her cheeks. Amandla was never fan of the cold weather, finding it a discomfort, but now she welcomed it. Amandla was sitting with Cevira in the quarter of Hogwarts, her head in the Stature girl's lap as she continued to read aloud.

    "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?" Cevira recited, a focused expression written on her face, "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief."

    She continued to read as Amandla concentrated on her. Cevira was her family now, as was Corey, and it seemed like they were the only family that she had left. Maybe her blood had left her, betrayed her, but at least she had her friends - the family that she chose. Amandla's eyes then fluttered to the wilted flowers still planted in the quarter. They looked so beautiful - so broken - and so cold, overcome by the storms that she cold brings. It probably tried to fight, to still be seen as the pretty, vibrant flower that it once was, but it had failed. It had succumbed to the cold and the color had drained from its soft petals and it had wilted and died, yet it was still so beautiful.

    The white noise around her stopped, signalling to the Fitzgerald girl that Cevira had stopped reading the famed and loved Shakespeare story. Her eyes trained back on Cevira, who only looked at her with concern.

    "You weren't listening to the story," the Asian girl commented, "And this is your favorite."

    "Sorry," the dark skinned girl half-heartedly apologized, "I was daydreaming."

    "You've been doing that a lot lately," Cevira placed down the warren copy of the play on the bench, "Especially since Christmas. Amandla, what's wrong?"

    What's wrong, Amandla thought bitterly, what's wrong? No, the question is, what isn't wrong?

    There was a lot wrong in her life, not that she could tell Amandla. The Stature girl would be angry, betrayed just like her, because of all the secrets that Amandla had kept from her after all these years. Maybe she wasn't better than the rest of her blood, keeping secrets from family - the people they loved - to benefit themselves. She often tried to assure herself that she was keeping Cevira in the dark because it was better for the girl, that it would be dangerous for her to know who Amandla truly was, but that was a blatant lie to allow Amandla to feel better than she did for keeping the secrets she did.

    "Nothing," Amandla excused the problem with lying, "Things just...happened and I don't know how to handle that yet."

    Cevira pursed her lips, her eyes changing from worried to sympathy, letting the silence grow stronger between them until, "You can always tell me if something's wrong, Mel, I'll always be here."

    She nodded, feeling instantly more guilty than she did before. Thing was, she couldn't come to Cevira with her problems, not when she didn't understand, but Amandla smiled anyways and told the Stature girl to continue reading - it was her favorite Shakespeare, after all.

    "She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that? Her eyes discourses. I will answer it. I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks," Cevira continued, passion filling all her words.

    For a moment, there was only that. Cevira reading the beloved tale of star-crossed lovers and Amandla listened intently, smiling slightly at the words Romeo used to describe his beloved. She wished someone would tell her that one day, that they would deem her worthy enough for those words. And then her thoughts betrayed her by implanting a name for that lover; Hermione Granger. No, Amandla couldn't think like that, Hermione barely knew her, and the Granger girl didn't want to know her either. She had made that clear that day in the library.

    Then, that moment was ruined when a shriek was heard from another part in the castle. Looking up at Cevira, she noticed the concerned expression painted on her face, and it was only a second later before the two girls hastily got up from their relaxing positions on the bench and running towards where the screeching was heard.

    "You cannot sack me!" they heard the voice of Professor Trelawney shriek.

    With her heart beating in her chest quick loudly, Amandla finally stopped beside Cevira, who was also breathing quite heavily. After calming herself down, Amandla looked to see Umbridge with a toad-like grin stalking towards the Divination professor.

    "I can do whatever I wish," Umbridge replied in a cheery, fakely sweet tone. Amandla scowled at her.

    "This is my home!" Trelawney pleaded, beginning to cry at the thought of leaving her home after all this time of leaving and thriving there.

    But the news of this only made the grin on Umbridge's face grow wider, showing once again that she held no sympathy for those she deemed less than her. "Not anymore," her tone was cold, the slightest uplift in it showing the joy that she held inside at this. Then, she pointed a stubby finger to the door leading to the entrance of Hogwarts, "Now removed yourself from this castle."

    Amandla, like many other students in the entry hall, had an intake of breath at those words. She couldn't seriously have the power to remove professors, could she? And if she had that power, did that mean she had the power to expel students as well?

    "She will not be leaving," the calm voice of Dumbledore soothed everyone present at the hall. The crowd parted slightly allowing Dumbledore to make his way to Umbridge and Trelawney.

    "I have the authority, Headmaster!" Umbridge screamed in her sweet, annoying high-pitched voice, still holding that toad-like grin on her face.

    "Oh, I agree with you, Professor Umbridge. You do have the power to dismiss my teachers. However..." Dumbledore casted a look at Trelawney who was being comforted by McGonagall, "...You cannot send them from this castle. That is still my decision. Professor Trelawney will remain here."

    Umbridge tensed, her expression furious at his words, "And what of her quarters when I appoint a new teacher?"

    "Happily, that will not be necessary. I have found a successor for good Professor Trelawney already. As you know...the Ministry can only appoint new teachers if I cannot find one. I think you will find him suitable enough."

    The oak doors swung open then, revealing a centaur from the forest beyond school. Momentarily stunned, all Amandla could do was blink her eyes at the centaur, only be knocked out of her trance after Dumbledore spoke.

    "This is Firenze."

     Amandla didn't miss the thunderstruck expression on Umbridge's face.

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    Her eyes fluttered over the various sweets present before her. Amandla never quite had the sweetest tooth for such treats, but she could appreciate a little taste of them every now and again. Honeydukes, like always, was filled with paying students willing to throw away their money for the addicting candy that filled the shelves of the store. She smiled as she saw Corey's tall figure paying for his chocolate - one of his favorite items that the store had to offer.

    She appreciated this. The smiles around her from other students that she hadn't a clue who they were, sporting a simply scarf of their house colors. They shopped around for their sweets, stopping momentarily at everything, making sure they got their favorites and maybe a new treat to try. She heard laughter faintly from outside coming from others who had just bought some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and were trying them again.

    Her eyes rested on their happy figures before she saw the lovely face of Hermione Granger waving her hands frantically as if trying to gain someone's attention. Amandla turned around, trying to find whoever Hermione was trying to collect, but finding no one but younger students or older ones, none that could classify as Hermione's friends.

    She then turned around again to see that Hermione was still there, almost connecting eyes with Amandla. The Fitzgerald girl walked towards the window before pointing to herself, as if questioning to Hermione, only to receive a simple nod from the Granger girl.

    Blinking, she held up a single finger, telling Hermione to wait for a second before Amandla pushed through the crowded Honeydukes at to her friend, only telling him that she would most likely be late for their lunch at the ice cream shop down the corner. As Corey was about to argue, Amandla ran past him and outside to meet Hermione.

    "I didn't actually think you would see me," Hermione breathed, a melody to Amandla's ear, causing her to try and resist the urge to smile at the sound. "I was planning on just kidnapping you."

    Amandla chuckled at that, something she hadn't done since before Christmas, she thought. "Not to be rude, but why exactly were you trying to gain my attention."

    Hermione smiled nervously, "I just - I think I could use your help with something. I just, I have a feeling that you're needed when Harry goes to speak with someone about everything."

    "Everything?" Amandla softly question, afraid of the answer that she would receive. Everything could mean his first year to now, but it could also mean a fully detailed story of summer and all that happened there.

    "Well, the Prophet, along with the Ministry, always get the chance to speak and paint Harry as the bad guy - but he's not. I think it's time that he had a chance to speak about what happened, to deliver the truth to the wizarding world - from The Boy Who Lived Himself," Hermione explained.

    "Oh," was all that came from Amandla's lips. "But why - what feeling do you have that tells you that you need me?"

    "I just, I feel like you're needed today when he talks to Rita Skeeter, but I can't explain that feeling," Hermione tried to conjure words, but Amandla eyed her suspiciously.

    If Hermione knew about who she was, it would make sense as to why she felt a need for Amandla to be there. The article was about Death Eaters, was it not? About the man they served. And Amandla's family had been serving that cruel man for generations, since he began to rise to power.

    And instead of confirming her maybe-be-there-but-might-not-be suspicions, Amandla agreed. It would be smartest, maybe, it might throw the suspicion off of her if Hermione had placed it on her.

    "Alright," she shuffled uncomfortably, "But you make sure there is no mention of being present when the article is written, alright?"

    Instead of agreeing, instead of giving Amandla the simple closure of 'yes', Hermione questioned her. "Why?"

    "I've lived a relatively quiet life, and I don't need someone suddenly having a vendetta against me because of this article," Amandla partially lied. The full truth was because she didn't want other Death Eaters to see her name smearing theirs.

    Hermione nodded at that, accepting it. It was a reasonable request with a reasonable explanation along with it, after all. And the two began to walk, not speaking, just walking as Amandla tried to calm her heartbeat for walking so closely to Hermione freaking Granger.

    Once they had arrived, Hermione showed them to a table containing a very stressed looking Harry, nervous Rita Skeeter, and daydreaming Luna Lovegood.

    "What's this all about, Hermione," Harry irritably questioned once the two sat down at the table in The Three Broomsticks.

    "That's what Little Miss Perfect was about to tell us," Rita sneered at Hermione, and Amandla felt a sudden urge to snap back at her and protect the Granger girl, but calmed herself when she realized she would only cause a scene.

    "Right, well, I figured that with all of the negative press out about Harry, he should have a chance to defend himself," Hermione paused, "All of the details. What happened last summer. The truth about Sirius Black and Voldemort," the dark skinned girl shuddered at the name, "not to mention the names of all the Death Eaters still on the loose."

    Rita then leaned across the table, "The Prophet will never publish that. Goes against the public mood."

    "Well, it doesn't matter," Hermione glared at the woman, "We've found a publisher for the article."

    "Who?"

    Luna then looked away from the window in which she looking through, "My father. He's the editor of The Quibbler," the girl then looked at her, "Hello, Amandla, nice to see you again."

    "You too, Luna," she graciously smiled at the whimsical sister of her best friend.

    But the sweet moment was ruined by the loud laughter of Rita, "The Quibbler? You think people will take Harry Potter seriously if he's published in the Quibbler? It's nothing but a conspiracy theory, cock-and-bull story tabloid!"

    "Some won't believe Harry, that's true. But every person we do convince is one more ally," Hermione agreed with the woman.

    Amandla then perked up, "Besides, the article is going to be written by you, and the public raves about you."

    Rita rolled her eyes and pulled out her quill from her bag begrudgingly, "So, Harry. Ready to tell the public the truth?"

    "Yeah, I guess so," Harry took a sip of his butterbeer, and Amandla suddenly wished she had one as well, but without the money to pay for one, she couldn't buy it.

    Hermione smirked, leaning backwards in the booth, allowing her arm to pressed against Amandla's, causing the girl to not-so-subtly take an intake of breath and then stop breathing all together for a second.

    The interview continued on for what felt like hours (and probably was). The four of them, Luna had left thirty minutes later claiming that her friends needed her, had gone through many rounds of butterbeer, graciously bought by Harry. It wasn't until a worker at the pub told them that it was closing that Rita decided that she had gotten enough information from Harry to write her article.

    Amandla then proceeded to walk back to the castle with Harry and Hermione. They didn't talk for most of the walk, and when they did, it was mostly conversation between the two friends, leaving Amandla to feel very alone. Then, they reached the castle again, stars beginning to shine, and Hermione smiled at Amandla.

    "Thank you for coming with me to The Three Broomsticks, it was much appreciated," the Granger girl thanked her, causing Amandla's heart to melt (along with her legs.)

    She smiled back, "No problem, I'd do anything for a friend."

    Hermione continued to smile, tucking a piece of hair back, "Well, I'll see you Monday during lessons most likely. Have a great night of sleep, Amandla."

    "You too, Hermione," she replied with a sincere voice. Then, she turned away to walk with Harry to Gryffindor tower as she went down to where Hufflepuff resided.

    As she expected, there weren't many people in the common room. Even though it wasn't too late, she learned that her housemates liked to be in their room quite early to spend time with their friends, who usually stayed in the same room as them. She walked up the stairs to the girls dorms, going down the hall before she reached her room. Twisting the knob, she saw Cevira reading the Shakespeare play from before again, causing her to smile. Her two other roommates her busy gossiping about whatever they did as Amandla plopped down on Cevira's bed.

    Feeling the weight shift on her bed, Cevira looked up to see her smiling friend. After hitting her up on the head with the book she had, Cevira calmly placed it down, ignoring the yelp that had previously escaped Amandla's lips. "You missed lunch."

    "And dinner, thank you for noticing," Amandla smiled, "I'm thinking of sneaking into the kitchen in a second, want anything?"

    "Where were you?" Cevira asked her instead of answering her, causing Amandla to sigh.

    "With Hermione...and some other people, but they don't matter," Amandla giggled, "I basically spent the whole day with Hermione and never once did I manage to embarrass myself, I think I've earned a slice of chocolate cake."

     Cevira rolled her eyes, "Alright, I'll take that for now. But later, I expect a proper answer for where you've been - and I want a slice as well with a glass of milk."

     "Coming right up," she smiled, hopping off of the bed and grabbing her wand. She set off to the kitchen, getting herself that slice of chocolate cake before bringing another one up for her friend - along with the glass of milk, of course.

       And that Tuesday, Corey came bouncing over to the Hufflepuff table with the newest edition of The Quibbler, announcing that Harry Potter had taken time to do an interview for it. Looking over at Gryffindor table, Amandla managed to catch the eyes of Hermione, who smiled at her and mouthed a 'thank you' to her, one that she responded with 'you're welcome.'

when this chapter takes like two hours to write...