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chapter fourteen;
welcome, to gryffindor tower
Amaya had been to Hogwarts once before. It'd been a quick trip, no detours, no tour, just past the maze of corridors and to the Headmaster's office so she could finally open the journal her father had given her and deliver Dumbledore the key to the end of the war. And now that she was back, she realized she rather liked this version of the visit.
McGonagall had met James and Amaya by the front door, giving James a dubious look but still allowing him to be the one to take Amaya around the castle and to Dumbledore's office; she told them the password—Cauldron Cakes—and so they were off.
She had the suspicion James was taking her the long way to the Headmaster's tower, laughing as he pointed out stuff and told her stories about Hogwarts, but she didn't mind. He chuckled as he showed her a faint scar close to his hairline.
"I got this scar right there," he said, jutting a thumb over to a torch hanging on the wall, close to his height. "Sirius and I were racing in the hallways and Remus decided to be funny and hit me with a Confudus charm so I went against the wall."
Amaya let out a laugh. "What happened after?"
"Minnie caught us and gave us all detention, even Peter who had run when he heard her walking closer." James grinned. "The week of polishing the trophies in the trophy room was worth it. To apologize, Remus gave me his whole stash of chocolate."
Speaking of Remus, the full moon was tomorrow night, and Amaya could already feel its effects dawning on her—if the way she nearly kissed James was any sign.
She truly did want to kiss him the day before, he looked handsome hovering over her with a silly grin on his face, and her emotions, already heightened by the full moon, were begging her to lean in and close the gap between them. Thankfully she didn't, and as soon as she got to her room she took two drops of the blue flask in her bathroom, honing down the moon's influence on her.
Which was why, she could safely say that now, she didn't want to kiss James Potter anymore—well, mostly. She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm guessing you had a lot of detentions?"
He grinned, with an innocent shrug. "One or two. Sometimes we decided to do these epic pranks a couple of times a year. Or sometimes we crossed a line," he added with a grimace, regret in his eyes. "I was an arrogant arsehole when I was younger."
"Because you're not anymore?"
He snorted. "I try not to be."
Sensing the conversation getting heavier, Amaya changed the subject. "Well, I never got detention. I did get grounded a lot though. My mother nearly killed me every time I showed up at home with an extra piercing."
"You do have a lot," he said, with a smile, glancing over at her ears, where she had nine piercings combined, it was hardly a lot, and she was planning on getting more actually. "They look good," he added and she felt her cheeks blush as she shrugged.
"Honestly, this isn't a lot," she said, "but still my mother always said that a couple more and I could strain pasta. She was conservative if you couldn't guess. I don't even want to know what she would do if she knew about my tattoo."
James started choking.
"Tattoo?" he said with a gasp, halting in the middle of the hallway, and Amaya's eyes widened as she realized what she said.
"What?"
"You have a tattoo?" His grin was infectious. "That's wicked. What is it? Where is it?"
"Huh?" she feigned confusion as she started walking again, spotting the statue of the gargoyle that went to the Headmaster's office.
"Oh, come on, Maya," James drawled with a laugh as he caught up to her, "Tell me."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Where is it?"
"Huh?"
"What is it?"
"Pardon me?"
"Oh, alright. Show me yours and I'll show you mine."
"You have a tattoo?" Amaya asked surprised as she looked up at him and saw his cheeks flaming as he nodded, scratching the back of his neck.
"I lost a bet."
"That means it's a good one," she said with a grin. "What is it? Where is it?"
He gave her a sarcastic smile as he imitated her, "Huh?" And before she could say anything else he uttered the password to the gargoyle and they both went up the stairs.
The door opened and they found the Headmaster of the school sitting at his desk, looking over a book, before he glanced up at them with a twinkle in his eyes, and gestured for them to come in. "Ms. Santoro, Mr. Potter, good to see you."
"Good to see you too, Headmaster," James said with a polite smile, "You haven't been around for the meetings."
"I'm afraid I've been busy, Mr. Potter," he said, glancing at Amaya knowingly and she figured he too was studying up on Horcruxes, either that, or Amaya was completely lost. "Now, Ms. Santoro, would you rather talk in front of Mr. Potter or not?"
Amaya hesitated, glancing up at James and the latter just gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll go, Maya," he said in understanding before turning to Dumbledore, "But before I do, professor, I just wanted to talk to you about something."
"What is it?"
"It's about... Regulus Black," he said grimly and Amaya frowned in confusion.
"Ah," said Dumbledore, "I'm guessing the young Mr. Black has joined him then?"
"Well, yes," James said before hurrying to add, "But I don't believe it was of his own free will, sir. Sirius always spoke highly of him. And you know about the Blacks, sir, they're monsters. Besides, if he was given a choice, it was either the Mark or Death—"
"What is your point exactly, Mr. Potter?"
"Sirius doesn't know," James confessed, not looking her in the eye. "I need to tell him, sooner rather than later but I wish I could give him something more. Not just bad news."
"What are you thinking?"
"Let Sirius talk to Regulus, let Sirius make sure where his brother stands in this war. If I'm wrong and Regulus is lost to You-Know-Who's side completely, then at least Sirius could get closure. Otherwise, we could, perhaps, get Regulus to act as a spy for the Order."
Amaya watched as Dumbledore considered what James said, and watched as James stood tall and proud, not wavering with doubt or nerves, just determined to give Sirius some sort of comfort, and his brother some sort of hope. Finally, Dumbledore hummed. "It's quite risky for both of them to talk, Mr. Potter. If You-Know-Who finds out, both brothers would be in trouble."
"Well, there has to be a way. Regulus is going to start his last year at Hogwarts soon, perhaps a meeting could be set up," said James, willing to try anything.
An idea popped into Amaya's head and she spoke up, "Albus, James told me he was made Head Boy last year. Do the Heads have some sort of separate common room?"
"The Heads' Quarters," James said in understanding, catching onto what she was trying to say, "Lily and I chose not to stay there, but we were given the option. Perhaps Regulus will take it. That could also be a test of his loyalties, see if he'd rather stay with the snakes in his house or not."
"You propose I make Regulus Black Head Boy?" asked Dumbledore, his sapphire eyes glinting.
"It would facilitate communications, would it not?" questioned Amaya, "Especially if he is to be a spy for the Order."
"Then it's lucky I wasn't planning to send out the letters for the Heads until later today," said Dumbledore with a nod. "I will take care of it, Mr. Potter; and I'll update you on Mr. Black's decision regarding the Heads' Quarters. Now, Ms. Santoro, shall we discuss your mission?"
James thanked the Headmaster and made his way to leave when Amaya stopped him, grabbing his arm—because she was taking a leap of faith, and trying to trust the boy who only wanted the best for the people he cared for. She hesitated under his stare, but finally said quietly, "You can stay, James."
"Are you sure?"
Amaya nodded, and he smiled softly before both of them took a seat in front of the Headmaster's desk. And then Amaya began updating Dumbledore on what she'd been doing and what she'd discovered.
She told him that most of what her father wrote was gibberish and riddles, and sometimes useful information. She told him that she figured out Voldemort had been after, and perhaps still was, the Founder's artifacts, and that she was certain about the Slytherin Locket having been used. She told him she was still trying to figure out how to destroy the Horcruxes because she'd hit a stump everywhere else, and by the end, James looked mighty confused, and Dumbledore was nodding in thought.
"Well, my dear, that sure is quite a bit of work."
"Really? I feel like I accomplished nothing."
"But you did. You see, if you're right about the artifacts being used as Horcruxes, that means we know at least three of them," explained Dumbledore.
"There are four founders," James pointed out and Dumbledore nodded.
"That is true. But the Sword of Gryffindor only makes its presence known to a true Gryffindor," he said. "That leaves us with the locket, Helga Hufflepuf's cup, and Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem."
"What's a diadem?" asked James.
"It's a sort of crown or tiara," explained Amaya.
"You see, Amaya, you have more information than you might think." Dumbledore paused as he raised his wand and flicked it in the air before three books came flying from the bookshelves and landed on his desk. "I've been studying these for the past few days, I haven't found anything new, but perhaps they could help you."
Amaya nodded as she eyed the books on the desk, radiating a sort of magic that felt unpleasant. They were most probably illegal in the country. And as she looked closer Amaya's eyes widened. "Those are my father's books."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "A great acquaintance of mine, your father. He was able to acquire these for me." He added, "Focus on the artifacts and how to destroy the Horcruxes, Amaya, and I'll look into the rest. And should you need access to Hogwarts send me a letter and we'll arrange for utmost discretion if classes are going on."
"Thank you, sir."
Standing up, Amaya went to pick up the books but didn't get there so fast because James scooped them up in his arms and smiled cheekily at her before turning to Dumbledore. "Thank you for your help, Professor, we'll see you soon."
Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling again as he looked at the pair, and Amaya was beginning to find that habit of his quite irritating. "Thank you for your work, Ms. Santoro."
And with a tight smile, and a polite see ya, James and Amaya slipped out of the Headmaster's office.
Only instead of just leaving, James started leading her through the corridors, telling her to trust him as he wanted to show her something. And Amaya did trust him, at least at that moment she did. And so she followed him.
"You know," James said as they walked, still carrying the three heavy tomes Dumbledore had given her, without much effort, "I think you would've been in Gryffindor."
"What makes you say that?"
James shrugged. "Honestly, you could've been in any house. You're a swot like most Ravenclaws—now, Maya, don't glare at me, I'm just stating facts—, you could've also been in Hufflepuff, you work hard, and you're kind, it would be a good match. Then again, you're sneaky, cunning, and bloody competitive, that could've made you a Snake. But I still think it's Gryffindor. You're brave and reckless—"
"I'm not reckless—"
"You quite literally have jumped off your broom more times than I could count, a hundred feet in the air, with the faith a broom will catch you." James gave her a pointed look and Amaya rolled her eyes at him. "Besides, that would've meant you would have been in my house."
"And you think we would've been friends, do you?"
James paused, his cheeks flaming before he shrugged as they stopped in front of a moving painting of a lady. "Perhaps." He turned toward the lady and smiled, "That's the Fat Lady," James murmured to her just as said Lady beamed at James.
"Mr. Potter, have you come bearing gifts?"
"I'm afraid not, darling," said James with a boyish grin, that made something in Amaya's stomach flutter, "But I was wondering if you'd let me inside. Amaya, here, has never been to Hogwarts before and I want to show her the best part of the castle."
"Such a sweetheart," the Fat Lady cooed at him and James just smirked, making Amaya roll her eyes. "Alright, just this once, in you go."
And then the portrait swung open, revealing an opening in a wall that gave way to an ample room, decorated in red and gold, that weirdly reminded Amaya of the Potter's house.
"Come on," James encouraged as they walked in. He set the tomes down on a little coffee table and opened his arms as he looked around, "Welcome, Miss Santoro, to Gryffindor Tower."
Her lips tugged up into a smile as she looked around. There were plush armchairs, desks, and a sofa by the crackling fire. Staircases that led to what she figured were the dorms and Amaya couldn't help to wonder how wonderful it would've been to have attended Hogwarts instead of whatever education, if you can even call it that, she had.
"It's incredible."
James nodded proudly. "The best House in Hogwarts."
"You're biased."
"Doesn't mean it isn't true. The Slytherins are down by the dungeons." He grimaced before shaking his head and jutting his head toward one of the mahogany staircases, "Come on, I want to show you our dorm. I would show you the girls' dorms but the staircase is charmed not to let boys up."
Amaya followed him up the staircases, and walked inside one of the boys' dorms, this one with four four-poster beds, with scarlet curtains and no bedding, as the school hadn't begun yet. There was a door to a bathroom, small desks and drawers for each person, and not much else other than a window, and still Amaya felt her heart clench at the thought that she'd never experience Hogwarts with James and his friends.
She was stuck on scenarios of what that life would've looked like, walking through the corridors as she hurried to classes, getting detentions with the marauders, and having friends. She was so caught up in what she didn't have that she didn't realize she'd zoned out and only shook herself out of the thoughts when James' hands landed on her shoulders. She blinked up at him.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked gently.
"Yeah," Amaya said with a forced smile, her voice cracking slightly and making her wince.
James narrowed his eyes at her and raised a hand to her face before brushing her cheek with his thumb and holding it up to her eyesight so she could see it stained with a tear. She hadn't realized she was crying. "Are you sure?"
Amaya shrugged. "I just wish I would've been here. You wouldn't get it, James."
"Then explain it to me," he urged as he led her to sit down on a bed, side by side.
She couldn't though, so she stood as she paced in front of him. "Hogwarts is amazing, James, and I don't think anyone realizes just how much. In the Peninsula we're all homeschooled, there's no place to teach everyone."
"What? What about the muggleborns? How do they learn?"
Amaya sighed. "They don't."
"What?"
"Allowing Muggleborns to have an education, to be part of this world, is so bloody amazing and also so fucking unbelievable in the Peninsula that it makes me want to cry."
"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at her weirdly.
"I mean... Lily Evans is a bloody amazing witch but in the Peninsula, she would've never even been considered one, she wouldn't even know she was one. They're so backward, James, it's frustrating, it's cruel. Did you know the majority of muggleborns in the Peninsula don't often live past twelve or thirteen?"
"What?"
Amaya nodded frantically, her emotions on the edge and she cursed herself for not taking one more drop of the Lagrimas de la Luna. "Their magic kills them, if they're not hunted down first, that is. It's a crime to be a muggleborn. Muggles kill them. And Wizards lock them up until their own magic acts up and eventually does the job. They don't know how to control their magic, often don't even know they have it because they suppress it."
"That's horrible," James said, his voice hollow and face pale. "But—Your mother is a muggle, isn't she?"
Amaya nodded with a heavy sigh as she finally sat down next to him. "She is. And Muggles and Wizards have a rather amicable relationship for the most part. But they both believe muggleborns are a product of the devil, abominations on this Earth and it's so fucking ignorant and cruel it hurts. I wish we had Hogwarts in the Peninsula. I wish they'd wake up and realize muggleborns are probably more magical than any of us."
They were quiet for a few seconds before James let out a shaky breath. "I had no idea. That's fucking inhuman."
"I know. That's why I'm here," she said quietly, into the room, because she was exhausted, and she was trying to trust James, so perhaps he could know—not all of it, but some parts at least. "I tried to help, James, I swear I did, but it didn't work. I got into some trouble, it's as illegal to help muggleborns, directly at least, as it is to be one, and so they—my mother sent me away."
His arms went around her shoulder and James pulled her into a hug, and Amaya allowed herself the moment of comfort, chose not to overthink it as she buried her face in the crook of his neck—he smelled like cologne.
"And now you're helping us," he said in a whisper, "We can't save the whole world, that's not possible, but we can help. Being part of the Order, that's helping."
"I know, but it doesn't feel like enough." She shrugged and his hold tightened around her. "Elio... He was a muggleborn I tried to help, James. Elio was twelve, and now he's dead. I didn't do much, did I?"
"I'm sure you did what you could, Maya."
"It wasn't enough. I just, I need to make up for—I need to help."
"We'll figure something out," James murmured, kissing the top of her head. Amaya's stomach fluttered at the gesture (even when she brushed it aside as a friendly one) but her heart clenched at hearing him say we. "We'll defeat Voldemort—" she smiled at his first time using his name (at least around her), because he meant what he was saying with his very being, " —and we'll gather the muggle-borns in the Peninsula and stuff them on a train to Hogwarts."
Amaya let out a laugh and nodded against his neck. And then they fell into a comfortable silence, still wrapped up in each other but neither of them making a move to pull away. It was a hug, a friendly hug, and Amaya found that she desperately needed one, so, she let herself get lost in the moment.
Still, she was the first to break the silence. "For what is worth, I'm glad I'm here," she said with a smile, "I met you and your family, and you treat me like I'm a part of it and I don't deserve—"
Her words died in her throat when he pulled away from her, lifting her chin so her eyes met his own. "You deserve the world, Maya," he said, "Trust me."
Biting the inside of her cheek to prevent a smile, Amaya sighed in defeat as his hand dropped. "Alright. Let's try this trust thing."
James' eyes brightened, and his lips tugged into a mischievous smirk, that looked mildly victorious too. "Does that mean you'll let me see your tattoo?"
She let out a giggle and rolled her eyes, in that moment loving the fact that James Potter could lighten up any situation, while still being the most caring and brave person she'd ever met. "No, that means, I want you to help me with my task."
"Good, because that talk with Dumbledore left me bloody confused."
"But you have to promise to keep this between us, James," she said earnestly, "No one must know, not even your friends. You promise this will stay between us?"
He didn't hesitate, and Amaya chose to believe him. "I promise, Maya."
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