Chapter 111

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Amilia sat in the sitting room, her feet tucked into the chair while she crocheted. Peter did not return to the house, and Severus did not know why; he had told her that sometimes it happened after meetings.

Severus was gone; he was going on the mission to retrieve Harry Potter and needed to be at Malfoy Manor to coordinate with the others, so he was gone all day. Amilia had protested. She did not want him to go for plenty of reasons. Severus had teased her about not being mad at him any longer, but she had given him the cold shoulder.

Amilia sighed and set down the tea cozy she was making, "You had better not die tonight." She stared out the window; the last thing I need is for you to die thinking I hate you. She scowled, but I do, in a way.

"Enough of this." She got up and went to the piano, yanking off the sheet and opening the key cover. She ran her fingers over the keys; it was out of tune. "You couldn't keep it in good condition?" She scowled before going up to the bedroom and getting her tuner. She had brought it just in case she needed it, but she did not expect it to be this bad.

So, Amilia sat down at the piano and began to try tuning it, but each note was beyond what she could do, and it began to irritate her the more she looked at the instrument, the more she realized that something had crawled into it to hide. "Peter," she snarled, "I will kill you if this is beyond repair." She got up, threw her coat on, and grabbed her purse and stepped outside.

It was dreary, the sky was overcast, and rain loomed as it always did in Spinner's End. Amilia huffed and started walking to the nearby alley; she knew a music store nearby but did not care to walk now that she was outside the house.




The loud crack signaling her arrival startled a few patrons nearby; they looked around for the car that had backfired. Amilia made sure to look around, too as not to look suspicious. She slipped past the crowd and pushed open the door to the shop. Inhaling deeply, she could smell the polish they used and the vinyl records near the door. Her fingers itched to flip through the sheet music, but she was a woman on a mission. She approached the desk and rang the bell.

Somewhere in the row of shelves and cases behind the desk, she heard hurried footsteps, "One moment, please!"

Amilia leaned against the counter, waiting, looking at the reeds that sat in a clear plastic organizer next to her. She certainly liked to sit with Amilia when she played piano, but she was unsure if that was just because mommy was doing something or if she liked it. She wondered if Jordan would want to play an instrument when she got older.

"Can I help you?" An older gentleman with thick glasses approached her, a rag that smelled like polish in his hands.

"Yes, I was wondering if you have any tuning appointments available?"

"Tuning? What kind of tuning?" He removed his glasses and rubbed the lenses with the rag, smearing the polish onto them. He scowled briefly and set them down, searching for another rag.

Amilia chuckled softly and gave him one, practically materializing it out of thin air. "I need a piano tuned. It seems to have sat for several years and I think a mouse found its way inside the case."

The man took the rag and thanked her, "If a mouse got to the strings you may need more than a tuning. Those will take longer to replace."

"I can replace them if that is the case. Money is no issue, time is though."

He sighed and grabbed a book, "What kind of piano is it?" His tone indicated that he did not think Amilia knew precisely what she was talking about.

Amilia gave him the details of the piano and the identification number; she felt rather smug when his greying eyebrows inched closer to his hairline.

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