Amelia Merlin and the Game for Okamila

Part 72: The Funeral For Oliver Rivers

Defense Against the Dark Arts was always an interesting subject, and with the arrangement of teachers they'd been given over the past few years, Amelia was surprised the class was still running. Snape wanted them to be doing non-verbal spells which she found hilarious. She had been doing non-verbal spells her entire life. If he had asked her to snap her wand in half she barely would have blinked. Amelia grinned as she watched Neville murmuring the words under his breath, silently as possible.

Snape critiqued everyone but when he saw the ease she was performing at, the crooked nose professor pretended she didn't exist. The entire class was purple faced with the desperation not to speak, except for those who were cheating. The dimly lit classroom was a little too melodramatic for Amelia's taste but she didn't have to endure for long. A student came in with a small letter they handed to Snape. He grinned maliciously and turned to Amelia, "The Headmaster wants to see you immediately in his office."

The whole room stared at her but Amelia was used to the looks by now, it didn't even register as being abnormal. "Okay. May I go?"

"Please." Snape drawled and pointed towards the door. They watched her leave and as she passed each face they all looked like they wanted to say something but just like the spells they had been practicing, silence followed her. She exited the room into the hallways which were mostly deserted.

As she made her way towards the Headmaster's office, Amelia couldn't help but reflect on the year so far, just to make sure she hadn't done anything too bad. She had attended all her classes and was doing remarkably well in them. There were no secret clubs or chambers this year, no one was sending her creepy letters or any such things. The only thing meriting discipline was all the sneaking around she and Fred had done. Each of them attracted so much attention that being alone together was difficult. It had become almost a game to them, finding new places to steal an hour or two together.

There was one thing that maybe wasn't going so well. She had developed a sort of cough, she would wake up in the morning and feel like something was crawling out of her. Amelia nearly threw up most mornings, and she couldn't sleep either. She lay like a stone at night, casting enchantments over herself to make her lids close but nothing worked.

And she kept seeing him. That was the scariest part. She would walk down a hallway and there he would be, the back of his head of the sound of his laugh echoing through the corridors. Even though the last she had seen of him was when he left her tent to go get on that damn ship. She hated Oliver for leaving her, she hated him even more for not coming back, but beyond anything else she hated herself. Amelia could feel the guilt eating away at her, it was all consuming, it was like breathing. It was completely unavoidable.

"Ms. Merlin!" Dumbledore invited her into the office. She didn't like it in here, it was too flashy, it felt fictional. "How are you doing, my dear?"

"I'm good. How are you?" she smiled and sat in the chair opposite of his. Not a second had passed before she noticed the withered, black hand but she was disinclined to bring it up. That seemed like one of those things that was not her business.

"I've seen better days." the twinkle in his eyes spread across his face as he smiled genuinely. "But I am afraid there's a rather delicate manner I must discuss with you."

"Yes?" she stiffened.

"It's about your friend, Mr. Rivers." Dumbledore looked at her with concern but Amelia revealed nothing on her face. "His family declared him missing months ago, and are now quite sure he has passed away. Last they heard he was coming home by boat and there appeared to be an awful storm." Dumbledore waited for her to say something but she was frozen in place. "Do you know anything about this?"