❝Good people are like candles. They burn themselves up to give others light.❞
order of the phoenix » deathly hallows
plot credit: vioietends
amandla fitzgerald stand alone
cover by lokidyinginside
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CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. FROM THE ASHES
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The thing was, the year was ending. Slowly but surely, the year had been ending since it began and now there were only weeks left. Weeks. Weeks to finish everything that had to be done and Amandla didn't know how to feel. Everything was happening so quickly and she didn't know what do to, how to feel.
For one, her cousin was still recovering from his attack that Harry fucking Potter committed. Two, he had cried to her only nights ago in broken sobs because the day was coming – he had finished the Vanishing Cabinet after a year of working on it and now all he had to do was tell the other Death Eaters and then kill Dumbledore. He had to become a killer, something that Amandla never wanted for him. And it was beginning to become too late to run; he had already told them, they were expecting Draco to be there to welcome them. Everything was happening that night and she just needed a moment to breath, but she didn't have that moment. There was no more time to run, only hide and hope for the best. She didn't know what that would be.
And third, Corey was losing his mind. She was too, with him. And they were both drowning, especially him. Because that night there were going to be Death Eaters – which he didn't know about – and if they found him, he was going to be taken. If he went home, he would be taken. If they found him at all, he would be taken and killed and that could not happen. Amandla was already conjuring a plan to save him, to hide him in the Stature house.
Amandla, though, just felt so useless. Because she knew everything and knew what was going to happen yet she couldn't do anything to stop it. She had all this knowledge she would never share that would help save Dumbledore – help save people, but be the downfall of her cousin and of herself. So yeah, everything was happening and she was letting it and she was just a terrible person. Sounds about right.
And she was standing in this room with Draco, staring at the Vanishing Cabinet for the first time sober, and she wanted to run. Wanted to run away, back to the beginning of the year, back to their childhood. The childhood without Voldemort, with the garden they ran about with smiles adorning their faces where everything was simple. To the days when her parents were alive and they held her hands as they walked the streets and taking her out to dinner. No, to the family dinners her mother cooked, her favorite always being pasta. Those were the days when she didn't have to keep secrets, when she smiled so bright and the sun glistened in her eyes and her cousin didn't cry because he felt so tired and ready to die, for life to end, but when he cried because he hurt himself or when Amandla pushed him into the sidewalk on accident.
But those days were gone. She would never see that sweet girl again who loved her parents more than anything and had dreams of becoming a princess because that sounded just so wonderful. That girl was gone. And even when Amandla looked into the mirror she couldn't see that girl. Too many things had happened, changed, and she didn't recognize that girl. And that girl would never recognize this Amandla. Because, according to her dream, she was sixteen when she moved into her castle. Everything was pink and there was glitter and magic and wands and everyone was happy. The world had never been brighter. She had a nice prince beside her and she was beautiful. Not this...not drowning as she was.
