Forever Yours [Book 2]

Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

*This is a fanfiction; all parts relating to or from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K Rowling. I did create the female lead and her story, along with her adventures with the Potions Master and a few side characters. This work is non-profit. Please do not lift passages from this book.

Amilia sat at the little bistro table at a cafe in France. The waiter brought her a pastry and her drink, "Merci." Her manicured hand picked up the glass, and she brought it to her lips, gently blowing on it. She sat there, watching people walk by on the street; the beautiful spring plants made the world look so much brighter.

"There you are."

Amilia looked away from the blossoming trees. "I said I would be."

"You look lovely." A man with half-moon glasses sat down in the empty seat. He wore a grey vest over a black shirt. His beard was held together by a silver clip. "You grew your hair out."

"Your beard is longer, Albus."

Albus Dumbledore stroked his beard, lovingly, "Yes, it is one of my greatest accomplishments."

Amilia raised her hand, signaling for the waiter. Dumbledore ordered a tea and blueberry scones. "You said you had something important to discuss with me." She sipped her drink again.

"Ah, yes." He stirred his tea for a moment before continuing. "I need you to come back to Hogwarts."

Amilia glared at him. "Not this again Albus, I am not going back to him."

Dumbledore raised his brows slightly, "This is not about Severus."

Amilia scoffed, "Do not be offended that I do not believe you."

"The boy will be starting school this year."

"Boy? What, boy?" She set down the glass and rested her head on her left hand, very bored of the conversation already and aching to walk along the river.

Dumbledore patted her right forearm gently, "Harry Potter."

Amilia perked up. "You cannot be serious."

"He turns eleven in a few short months. I need you at Hogwarts."

She squinted her chestnut eyes at him, "Why?"

Dumbledore glanced at the people sitting nearby and lowered his voice. "I have suspected for some time now that Lord Voldemort is not truly dead. I believe he is trying to become stronger so that he can finish what he started."

Amilia rubbed her arm. Her mark had all but disappeared after he died; a faint outline of it could be seen if you knew what to look for; but she always kept it covered either by magic, clothes, or makeup. "No. He is gone. If he had come back, he would have done it by now."

"These things take time." Dumbledore said, "I believe he will be going after a certain alchemical item. I need your help."

Amilia laughed, "My help! What does the great Albus Dumbledore need my help for?"

She detected a hint of a sheepish grin behind his white beard, "You have the highest-scoring grade in Alchemy in nearly a century, Amilia. I need you to help me hide the Philosopher's Stone."

Amilia reclined in her chair, "You do not need me at Hogwarts for that."

"Yes, I do. I need you there to make sure that it remains hidden, that no one will be able to find it."

"What about Flamel?"

"I have already discussed this with him."

She rolled her eyes and looked out into the street again. Children skipped around their parents, and dogs were being walked and barked happily at each other. She pursed her lips and sighed. It had been five years since she had stepped foot on Hogwarts grounds; she absolutely refused to be anywhere near it. Always requesting Anthony and Aaron to pick somewhere else other than Hogsmead to meet up. Amilia had hoped never to return to that place; she never wanted to see him again.

Dumbledore grabbed her hands, gripping them tightly for a moment, drawing her away from her thoughts. "Amilia, I am calling in my favor."

Amilia groaned; she feared that this would happen. "Bloody hell." She raised her hand, calling for the waiter again. "Excusez-moi, puis-je avoir le chèque s'il vous plaît?" The young man nodded before strolling away from their table.

Dumbledore eyed her, "Your French is outstanding."

"I have been teaching at Beauxbatons for two years." The man dropped off her check; she placed the money in the little tray, "Merci beaucoup." She handed it back to him.

"Splendid. I am glad you were still able to use what you learned at Hogwarts."

"Look, Albus, I have an excellent thing here. I have a lovely flat overlooking the river, a great job. I get to travel the world whenever I have the desire to do so."

He raised his hand, silencing her, "I will match what you make."

"I want more than I currently make." She crossed her arms over her chest.

He chuckled, "I suppose I can try to convince the board."

"I also do not want to have my quarters right up again his either. I do not want a classroom near his; I do not want to be seated near him. I want nothing to do with Severus Snape." She leaned forward, the seriousness in her tone surprising the wizard.

Dumbledore stared at her in disbelief. "I did not realize you still have this much hatred for him."

Amilia ran her tongue over her teeth; her eyes were set hard like stone. "He left me at the altar. For a dead woman."

"He was lost, Amilia."

"Do not defend him!" She snapped. "His damn actions are his own! If he knew he still had feelings for Lily Potter," she spat the name out like it were poison, "then he should have told me or at the very bloody least requested to postpone the wedding. But no, he left me there on the ground crying in front of students and high society."

Dumbledore shifted in his seat.

"Do you know the amount of pity looks that I received? That is why I left Britain."

"You have every right to be angry."

"You are damn right, I do!" Amilia growled; she turned her attention to the trees nearby. Their cream-colored petals had brought a sense of calm earlier; now, they just reminded her of his blasted tea set. "Albus, I will stay for this year. Afterward, I am gone."

"So long as we can hide the stone within a year, I accept those terms," Dumbledore said slyly. Amilia was too riled up to catch the tone and words. "I will do my best to make sure your other requirements are met."

"Fine."

The old wizard chuckled, "Would you like to take a walk?"

"No. I need to get to packing and putting in my letter of resignation." She stood, pushing the chair in, "Enjoy the rest of your time in Paris."