Azkaban

Sly Twins

Since Amarea had gotten out of Azkaban, she soon found out that the worst part of the day was night time. The house was deathly quiet; she could only hear the sound of Kreacher's footsteps every once in a while, or occasionally the faint snore of Walburga, whose curtains sometimes came undone.

Amarea didn't mind the silence, although it was unsettling at times. What she hated was sleep. Sleep allowed her fears to take control of her, making her scream and thrash, waking up with wide eyes and tearstains. Sometimes she would have to scream her way out of the night terror, not being able to wake up any other way.

It was dreadful.

She got a slight pinch of happiness from her bed, which was too soft for her to fall asleep on. If she couldn't fall asleep, then the creatures from Azkaban would stay away. So she laid there, huddled up in bed, underneath the mound of blankets that kept her warm.

Warmth. Warmth was the second thing she loved; she hadn't gotten that in her cell. It was cold and wet, and there was never sun, not even the smallest ounce of light at times. Amarea couldn't remember the last time she had seen the sun, for she hadn't been allowed to go outside yet.

The creaking of floorboards catches her attention first, then the muttering. She grows stiff, holding onto her wand that she kept beside her under the blanket, as the door to her room opens. She hadn't gotten a chance to put a lock on it yet; even though she had all the time in the world, it didn't seem that way.

"Well go on then Freddie, I can't squeeze through that hole. Who do you think I am, huh?"

"Shhh." The sound of a slap was heard, cursing following soon after. "Oh just shut up, you're going to wake her up!"

"Am not."

"Are too."

George huffs, "Come on, there's probably nothing in here anyway. I mean, she just got here."

"I'm just curious. It can't hurt to look," Fred replies.

"It can't hurt to look," George says, mocking him. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds before walking into the room fully. They search around the room for a couple of seconds, finding nothing. "Can we go now?"

Fred holds up his hand and points to the dresser on the left side of the room. "We haven't checked in there yet."

"We can't check in her dresser."

"Why not?"

Amarea watches them through the dark, seeing George throw his hand up, mumbling to himself. They start to open the drawers, checking the bottom first.

Reaching under her pillow once again first, Amarea quietly creeps across the floorboards. Quickly, she grabs one of the twins, pointing a dagger at the other.

"Why are you in my room?"

George answers quickly, "Well...we...well Freddie wanted to check if you were ok."

Amarea grits her teeth, "Ok? As in if I'm going to murder everyone in their sleep 'ok' or friendly 'ok?"

"Both?" George laughs nervously, "Nice knife, also one suggestion, maybe put him down."

Fred was hitting at her hand, which was currently around his throat, leaving him knelt slightly and pressed against the wall. Amarea releases him and he puts his hand around his throat, coughing. Glaring at them both she readjusts her hand on the dagger's handle.

"Nice knife," Fred whispers hoarsely, repeating his brother. "Strong grip, by the way. Shouldn't you be weak or something? You look like death."

Amarea narrows her eyes at him, tilting her head slightly. "He didn't mean that," George says quickly.