Azkaban

Too Close

Just like every other day, Amarea was strolling through the corridors of Hogwarts. She was bored. Extremely bored. On top of her boredom, she hadn't gotten much sleep last night, and the class this morning drained her energy to an all-time low. Harry also seemed tired this morning, making her curious as to what he had been up to.

Letting out a huff, Amarea continued walking up the endless stairs; she was nowhere near as fit as she used to be, and her lungs burned with how much she pushed herself daily. The limited food she consumed, added with her activity made her dread getting up every day, knowing she would have the same schedule. She supposed the only good thing about her schedule was the fact that she was losing weight again, her body starting to revert to how it was in Azkaban. It wasn't healthy, and it definitely wasn't helping her regain her powers, but at least her chains didn't dig into her wrists and ankles as much. The only thing she was worried about was the glamor she cast on herself every day. With the demonstrations she had been doing in her class and how unhealthy she was becoming, she knew she could only keep up the glamor so much longer.

"The old hag!"

Amarea furrows her eyebrows and continues up the stairs faster at Ron's voice. "She's sick! Go to McGonagall or Amarea; say something," Ron continues.

"Say what," Amarea asks, the boys whipping their heads to her. Ron's eyes widen slightly and Harry moves his hands behind his back. "What's going on, and why do you two look like you've just been caught shagging someone?" The redhead's expression was amusing, causing her to chuckle. Turning her head she looks over at Harry, who stares right back at her. She raises her eyebrows, studying his body language. "Spill."

"Harry-"

"Nothing," Harry cuts his friend off. "We were just talking about Ron trying out for Quidditch."

The candles flicker around them and a small smile graces Amarea's face at the sentence. "I didn't take you as the type of person to play, Ron. I hope you get the results you want." She walks past them, turning the corner and casting a noise spell, making the sound of footsteps travel down the hall.

"Back to what I was saying, Amarea could-"

"No, I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me." Amarea follows them as they talk, staying in the shadows left untouched by the candles that lit up the halls.

"Got to you," Ron asks, his voice lowering. "You can't let her get away with this!"

"I don't know how much power McGonagall's got over her," Harry persists.

"Dumbledore, then, tell Dumbledore! Even Amarea if you want! Tell someone!"

"No," Harry says flatly.

"Why not?"

"He's got enough on his mind."

"Amarea, then," Ron persists.

She watches Harry shake his head, "She's got too much to deal with, too."

Ron throws his hands up in the air, "She only has one class to deal with. I'm sure she can squeeze you in."

"No, Ron. You don't understand."

"What don't..."

Harry looks at him angrily, "Can't you tell there's so much she's hiding? We don't know anything about her or where she came from. Whenever she starts to talk about herself she stops. Amarea has a lot of things going on. I don't know what, but I do know she hasn't been eating or sleeping. I mean look at her." He takes a deep breath before continuing, "I haven't told anyone this but when we stayed at Sirius' house I came to talk to her late at night. I had to get Sirius because she was screaming and twitching in pain; she cast some spell around herself so we couldn't hear. I don't even think she remembers..."

Amarea's eyes widened at his confession. He was right, she didn't remember a single thing. Cursing silently, she watches them walk into the Gryffindor common room, their voices getting quieter. She didn't know what all Harry knew or what he suspected, but either way, she had to be more careful.

---

Friday passed quickly, Amarea deciding to cancel her class because of tryouts. At least that's what she told everyone. Of course, she had thought of canceling them in advance; she didn't want any sweaty or tired teenagers in her class. The only reason she had agreed to teach Friday night was because they'd asked her to. But with what she had heard last night, Amarea decided to avoid Harry at all costs.

She was currently sitting in her usual seat in the Great Hall, watching the students excitedly shovel food down their throats and talk about tryouts. Dumbledore quietly hummed a song beside her, slightly swaying back and forth as he ate his pudding. "You might successfully burn holes in Harry's head if you keep staring at him like that."

Amarea scoffs, turning to face Dumbledore. "He's hiding something, I know it."

"I'm sure he thinks the same thing about you."

"Yeah," Amarea responds. "That's the problem. And whatever he's hiding. He's getting too close to me. Figuring me out, I mean. It's dangerous."

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

Dumbledore looks at her curiously, waiting for her to respond. She does after a moment, "We didn't expect this so soon. Albus, I don't know if I'm ready."

Her gaze sweeps back to Harry, who was now looking at her. She sighs, and Dumbledore pats her on the back as he talks. "You aren't, but there isn't any other way. You need your chains off before anything. He can do it."

"I know he can," Amarea snaps, eyes never leaving Harry's. He was curiously glancing between the two of them as they talked.

"When are you leaving?"

"I'll go tomorrow night with Severus."

"Be careful," Dumbledore says, going back to his pudding.

Amarea sighs once again, something she had been doing a lot, "Always am."