Deception

It was a cold, windy day. The rain had been falling down so hard that it hurt to be out in it. Luckily for Amara and her twin, they were inside, where it was warm and cozy.

However, the mood inside was much like the nasty weather. Sad and angry.

Mia sat at the other end of the couch, her dark brows furrowed as she stared unblinking at the carpet. Her hands kept balling up into little fists before she flexed them out again, only to ball them up once more.

Amara sat stiffly in her seat, her face rather blank as she tried to process everything.

“Papa is gone,” Mia said, her voice coming out as a harsh whisper. “They killed him. Because of them, he is gone from us forever.”

Jonathan sighed. “No one killed your father. Azkaban is just a difficult place to be.”

Mia’s gaze landed on Jonathan. “I don’t care if they physically killed him or not. In the end he is dead because he was locked away in that prison. They put him there.”

Amara watched her sister’s face turn red with rage. Tears began leaking from the corner of her eyes before the young girl stood up, her hands clenched tightly. She looked like she was going to exploded with all the emotions raging inside her.

“I will make everyone pay!” Mia screamed, before stomping out of the room.

Amara and Jonathan watched her go until she turned and stomped up the stairs, heading towards her room. As soon as her bedroom door slammed shut, Jonathan let out a deep breath.

“She’s angry.” Amara noted as she studied the older mans face. “She doesn’t blame you, she just needs to lash out on someone.”

“Her anger is fine, actually.” Jonathan said, giving Amara a blank look. “It might actually come in handy.”

Amara perked up at this, her curiosity getting the better of her. “What do you mean it will come in handy?”

Jonathan gave Amara a weary look, as if he was debating whether or not to answer her. “I have a plan I’ve been tossing around for over a year now and Mia may be helpful.”

“How so?” Amara cocked her head to the side. Her brown eyes large and her lips drawn into a frown.

“She has so much anger for everything that has happened. She’s letting it build up, which is good. As long as she holds onto that bitterness she can become a key player.” Jonathan sighed, running his hand through his thinning hair. “But her emotions are also her downfall. She’s not able to hide what she’s feeling and is constantly exploding. If I told her to do something, she’d be ready for it, sure. But the moment she set her sights on it she would go off.”

“What exactly do you want her to do?” Amara asked, her voice squeaking a bit at the end. She wasn’t sure if she truly wanted to know.

As if realizing he was only talking to a seven-year-old, Jonathan shut his mouth. He shook his head slowly before letting out a deep breath. “Nothing, nothing.”

“No, really!” Amara sat forward in her chair, pushing her dark hair behind her back. “Tell me, Mr. Hart. What do you want her to do?”

“You’re to young to understand.” Jonathan said, sighing loudly again as he struggled to think.

“Well, if Mia is like a walking, talking outburst, then why don’t I help you?” She suggested.

Jonathan stilled at this suggestion. He furrowed his brows and slouched in his seat. He looked up from his clasped hands and into Amara’s eyes. “I’ll admit that you can hide your emotions easily. That you seem to observe things and let everything soak in before you react. But you aren’t bitter, Amara. You don’t have a desire for revenge.”

“But can’t I-” she started.

“No,” he cut her off, a hard looking settling on his face. “Let’s drop this, Amara. Perhaps in a few years when you’re older and you actually have a drive for this, then we will. But until then the answer is no.”

It sounded like a dismissal. Amara got to her feet and debated whether she should say something or not. But decided that it would be best to drop it all together. “Goodnight, Mr. Hart.”

“Goodnight. And, Amara,” he said as she turned to go. “Please don‘t mention any of this. Especially to your sister.”

Amara gave him a small nod before walking away.



It was cool outside and the breeze didn’t help much either.

Amara felt a few drops of rain fall on her face but she did her best to ignore them. She bit her bottom lip, a tentative look on her face she headed to Care of Magical Creatures. She wasn’t nervous about her lesson, not when so many things were buzzing around in her head.

Pansy had latched herself onto Malfoy again, which was going to make things a bit more difficult.

She had been warned by Daphne to keep her distance. She said that Parkinson and Malfoy may have had a bit of a spat on the train, but it was a trivial thing and the two would be back together soon.

Apparently, she was right.

Amara watched the group of Slytherins hover around Draco a few yards ahead of her. She caught a small bit of what Draco was saying, something about Potter. The group laughed and set their eyes on Harry to let him know that it was about him.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at such a silly thing. Malfoy and gang divulged in such trivial things.

Amara came up short from the rest of Slytherins, making sure she stood a few feet away. She didn’t want to get caught up in whatever mess they would eventually get themselves in.

Professor Grubbly-Plank studied each student closely before pointing towards a long table with sticks laying across it. “. . . who can tell me what these things are called?”

Granger’s hand went straight up, an eager look on her face.

Malfoy stood behind her and tried to mimic Hermione, buck-tooth and all, by jumping up and down with an eager look of his pale face.

Slytherins laughed, Pansy’s laughter louder than everyone else.

Amara couldn’t help but smirk. Whether from Malfoy’s imitation or from Pansy’s laughter, she wasn’t sure.

The sticks jumped into the air. Pansy’s shriek of laughter quickly turned into a scream when she noticed them.

The sticks were like small pixies made of wood. They stood with knobby legs with arms to match. They had two twig like fingers at the end of their hands. Their faces were flat and looked like bark. Their eyes were large and brown, and studied the students staring back at them.

Instantly people began to 'oh' and 'awe' with curiosity. Professor Grubbly-Plank instantly told everyone to keep their voices down before throwing what seemed like brown rice towards the stick creatures.

“So - anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?”

Hermione smiled. “Bowtruckles. They’re tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees.”

Grubbly-Plank nodded her head and gave five points to Gryffindor. She continued on that the brown rice was actually wood lice and that the bowtruckles ate them. She continued on to tell the students not to anger them, for they would gouge a humans eyes out, despite their small size.

“So if you’d like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and bowtruckle - I have enough here for one between three - you can study them more closely…”

Amara seized her opportunity and shoved students out of her way so she could get to Draco first.

She slid her hand into Draco’s and gave it a quick squeeze. She gave him a bright smile as he looked from their entwined hands to her face in curiosity.

“Partners?” She asked, raising a brow. Somewhere behind them she heard Pansy huff. But Amara didn’t give Malfoy time to answer before turning towards Goyle and clutching his wrist. “Goyle can be our third.”

Draco shrugged, but Amara saw that grin on his face. She gave him a small nudge. “Go get our stick thing.”

He took off towards the table while Amara dragged Goyle away from a pouting Crabbe and a seriously annoyed Pansy.

Draco was smirking as he walked towards their small group, Crabbe behind him, not seeming to care that it was supposed to be three to a group.

“What did you do, grab the fattest one?” Amara joked as she pulled out a piece of parchment.

“Only the best,” Draco replied, shoving the stick into Goyles hands.

“So,” Amara started, glancing up from her parchment. “You’re father is in the Ministry, Draco. What exactly is Umbridge doing here? Your father must know, and what about Professor Hagrid? Where has he gone off to?”

“Yes,” Draco said loudly, so that the groups around them could hear. More importantly, for Potter to hear. “Father was talking to the Minister just a coup of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the Ministry’s really determined to crack down on substandard teach in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he’ll probably be sent pack straight away.”

Goyle and Crabbe chuckled and Draco sat there with a proud look on his face.

Harry yelped loudly and dropped his bowtruckle, blood dripping from his hand. The bowtruckle took off towards the woods, eager to get away from Harry.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle laughed at Harry who glared angrily back at them.

Amara couldn't help but roll her eyes. She caught Hermione’s gaze and bit her bottom lip. She raised her brows and shook her head. It was a simple gesture, meant to be shared between two girls, as if to say boys can be stupid, but Hermione seemed to think Amara was mocking Harry and looked away quickly.