Azkaban

Be My Friend

Saturday morning already seemed ten times worse than Amarea had imagined. She had rushed through her usual morning routine, hurrying down to beat on Severus' office door. Only having to beat on the wooden door a couple more times, a smirk starts to appear on her face. 

Severus is quick to label her suspicious. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Cancel all your plans, we're going on a trip tonight."

He hadn't taken the news well, and Amarea tried to cheer him up in vain. Sitting at the High Table, she leaned forward to look at the black-haired man. Bringing her hands up to her face, the cool leather traced a smile on her lips and cheeks, only earning her a grimace in return. Dumbledore watched their interaction with a smile. "You annoy each other like you're still children."

Amarea scoffs, "We do not. I'm very mature for my age."

Raising an eyebrow at her only makes Amarea dive into the subject further. "We do not act like children," she exclaims. "Besides, even if we did, technically speaking, I'm young."

"You're young?"

She nods, "You know what they say about my family; we seem to never age."

He smiles, "It seems Harry is trying to get your attention."

Looking over at Harry, she watched him wave his hand frantically at her. She raises her brows, she could never just raise one, and after a few moments of him mouthing for her to walk over, she complies. Attention is immediately drawn to her as she walks to the Gryffindor table, but she pays no mind to it. Once she gets there, Harry shoves a newspaper into her hand, staring at her. Furrowing her brow once again, she uncrumples the paper to skim through it:

"The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murdered...is currently hiding in London...'Ministry warns Wizarding community that Black is very dangerous...killed thirteen people...broke out of Azkaban..."

Amarea clenches her jaw, "Who's the source?"

"I'm guessing Lucius Malfoy," Harry seethes. "And look at this," he points to another section.

"TRESPASSING AT MINISTRY"

"Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot and was charged with trespassing and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watch-wizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defense, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban."

She listens closely as the trio discusses the situation, concluding that it could have been a frame-up, or for the Order. They look at her with curious eyes as she hands the newspaper back. "Do you know anything about this," Hermione questions? 

Amarea looks up at Dumbledore before meeting their gazes again, "No. No, I don't."

---

Amarea had ended up accompanying Ron and Harry to the Quidditch pitch for them to practice. She had continuously told them they should focus on the piles of homework they both had. Of course, the suggestion fell on deaf ears multiple times. "I mean we can do it tonight. And we've got tomorrow," Ron says. "You and Hermione are too worked up about homework, especially Hermione."

Silence filled the air as the trio turned slightly, switching to another path and continuing their trek down the hill. "D'you think she meant it when she said we weren't copying from her," the red-head finally blurts out.

Amarea hums and Harry nods his head. "Yeah, I do," he says. "Still, this is important too. We've got to practice if we want to stay on the Quidditch team."

Tuning them out, Amarea's attention is caught by the Forbidden Forest. The trees swayed darkly, and nothing seemed to go in or out. The sky was also empty, the only sign of life being a couple of owls that fluttered around the Owlery Tower. Turning her head back, she catches Harry looking at the forest as well. Sighing, Amarea picks up the pace, the two boys following closely behind her.

She took a seat on a bench beside the stands and watched as Harry and Ron practiced. Amarea had never been a fan of Quidditch. The thought of relying on a magical broom to keep you afloat hundreds of feet in the air wasn't appealing to her. Winged animals were another story. During her childhood, Amarea would beg her father to take her riding on their Griffin and practically every other winged creature that could support their weight.

After a quick lunch break, which Amarea had barely talked during, they headed back to the Pitch for the real training session. Amarea sat back down in her spot, scanning the empty pitch and waiting for the team to get changed. People started to fill the stands in various places. There weren't many but it was enough for Amarea to regret coming; they were all staring at her.

The team starts to pile out of the changing room in pairs, thankfully taking the eyes off of Amarea. Her mood was quickly brought down again when the team was met with jeers and catwalks from the crowd. Her eyes widen when she sees the Slytherin Quidditch team throwing insults and vulgar hand signs at the Gryffindor team.

"What's that Weasley riding," Malfoy calls out. "Why would anyone put a flying charm on a moldy old log like that?"

His friends shrieked with laughter, and Amarea frowned, getting up from her seat. It had taken a while to get up to the seats where the Slytherins were. Once she did, she scanned the air, noticing a girl with a nosebleed. The crowd to her right was stamping their feet now, not being able to control their laughter.

Everything quietened down as Amarea started to walk toward them. Her eyes are set on Draco, making some of the boys nudge him. Internally grimacing at their thoughts she stands in front of him, turning her gaze to a girl.

"Move, please."

"Who do you think you are," the girl says.

Instead of letting her talk, Amarea placed her hand in the air, palm toward the sky, and slowly lifted her wrist. The girl gasped as she was lifted into the air, but Amarea took no mind, setting her down a couple of seats away. She did feel slightly bad; she hardly knew the girl. Sitting down, she refuses to meet the gaze of the boy beside her. She watched Harry fly around the pitch, stopping every so often to make sure Ron was doing well.

"Are you going to say something?"

The voice startles Draco; the rest of the Slytherins are deep in their own conversations.

"Why are you here?"

"To watch Harry and Ron."

Amarea doesn't look at him, her gaze following Harry everywhere he goes. "Then why are you sitting here," Draco persists.

She finally looks over at him, having to tilt her head up because of the height difference. Shrugging she says, "Don't know." They sit in silence for a while before Amarea says anything again. "What else did you write on that note? In Umbridge's class?"

Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a price of paper. "Here."

She uncrumples the piece of paper, "So you just keep random notes in your pockets all the time?"

Draco hums, and she turns away from him to read the note.

you seem cool. be my friend -draco

She turns back to him, scrunching up her nose, "Be my friend?"

"Okay."

"What? That's not what I meant."