Azkaban

1995

People in the room looked at her with wary eyes. If she had seen herself, she wouldn't blame them. Her eyes were wide, scanning the room over and over again, making sure every crevice, dent, or slight shape went through her eyesight. All in all, she looked completely and utterly mad. Maybe she was. Everyone is slightly mad of course, no matter how much we want to deny the fact.

"Amarea."

Severus. Severus had spoken. Thoughts raced in her head. Severus. Amarea liked Severus. Looking up at him she questions him with her eyes, tilting her head slightly. Everything seemed to bright, so full of color.

"Did you hear anything Black said," he asks, concerned. She shakes her head. Sirius moves to speak again but Snape stops him, "Come sit down. If you want." He adds the last part quickly, not wanting to madden her further.

Amarea twitched. After a few seconds, she walks over, sitting in the chair he had pulled out for her. "Introductions can come later then," a woman with red hair states warmly from across the room. Amarea looks at her. Her face was warm, showing kindness and love. Amarea would have believed it, but her eyes betrayed her. She was curious. And scared, very scared.

Sirius moves slowly, placing a glass of water down next to her. With shaky hands, Amarea picks it up, putting the glass to her nose and smelling the liquid. It was so...clear. For many years, she hadn't seen water this clean, except for the droplets that fell from the sky. But, even those had a twinge of color, the filth of the air around Azkaban tampering with everything it touched.

She scans the room again, watching everyone study her. Her eyes met the woman again. Staring at her, she takes careful sips of her water with shaky hands, never breaking eye contact. Gryffindor. That's what she was. It just made sense. And Hufflepuff, but not enough to claim her.

Thinking about it further, Amarea doesn't realize the whispers circulating in the room. "How will she stay here," the red-haired woman, Molly asks.

Remus shrugs, "We'll figure something out." Sirius nods in agreement. "Dumbledore should be here soon, I think."

"He's not coming."

Sirius looks over at Snape, "Why not?"

Snape responds, "The Ministry of Magic requested him tonight. He's been getting a lot more attention from them recently if you haven't noticed."

"My wand."

Everyone's eyes snap to Amarea. Reaching into his cloak pocket, Snape pulls out an intricate wooden box, handing it to her. "Dumbledore knew you'd want it."

She looks up at him briefly, quickly looking back down at the black wooden box. It was weightless in her hands, the wood as light as air from a charm she had cast on it when she was fifteen. Intricate carvings ran along the sides, silver filling the dips and lining the edges. Pressing a finger to the lock, it releases quickly, opening and revealing a single wand on a velvet cushion. 

Around the table, Tonks strains her neck to see and Remus does the same, although covering it up much more than she had. Amarea places the box on the table and picks up the wand from the cyan cushion. She holds it in her hands delicately, not noticing the curious expressions from around the table, gaze entirely stuck on her want. Alastor was curious, though he would never admit it, and was furrowing his brow, his eye squinting slightly in confusion. 

No one in the room had ever seen a wand quite like the one that was in her hands, Remus, Sirius, and Snape being the only exceptions. Amarea's wand was one of her greatest treasures in life; it had pained her not to see it for so long, not to touch it. English Oak, 11 1/2 inches, and feisty, it was a wand to be proud of. Even more so, was the chimera scale and dragon heartstring that sat in the core. 

The wand sang in her palms, a language that only she could understand. Everything felt complete, or as complete as her situation could be. Amarea looks up at Severus and gives him a small nod.

"What's today," she asks, her voice still gravely. 

Remus looks at Sirus with a worried expression, "Um, well...today's Tuesday. Almost Wednesday actually but-"

"No, the year."

"Listen," Sirius starts, "A lot of things have changed while you were absent...and you need to rest. It's probably best if you ju-"

Amarea tightens her grip on her wand, moving in the chair. People around the table move back slightly, frustration clear on her face. "What. Year. Is it?"

"1995."

Her grip loosens and she leans back in the chair, the frustration turning to disbelief. Opening her mouth, she closes it again, thinking about all the time that she had missed. No one moves, waiting. It dawns on them as she speaks, "Fifteen years. I've been gone for fifteen years."