Amaryllis felt normal by Saturday morning. Besides the scar that ran down her arm, she had felt nothing out of sorts.
Convincing everyone else of that was harder.
Harry had thought she should rest as Madam Pomfrey said for the whole weekend, but she still got Susan to go over the notes she had taken, much against Harry’s wishes. However, Hermione approved as she at least took her classes seriously.
“The library? Are you mad?”
Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “No one said you two have to follow. I know you both hate the library.”
“Really?”
“But—”
“Harry, do you really want to sit in the library while they read?”
Amaryllis wasn’t sure what Ron’s face was supposed to mean, but he glanced between them all as if they had just grown a third head. She saw the hesitation in her brother’s eyes and knew he didn’t want to go, but he also seemed to dislike the idea of letting her out of his sight for the time being. “Harry, go. We’ll be fine. Susan and Hermione will be with me. I want to make sure I have everything I missed in my classes before we start again tomorrow.”
Harry seemed reluctant but gave in when she reassured him further.
She was fine. She hadn’t lied about that, but her intent to go to the library… that was half a lie. She had some hunches she wanted to look into after she confirmed she hadn’t dreamt of that man. However, she kept that to herself. It was unheard of for someone to get into Hogwarts and leave unnoticed, but there was something that told her she shouldn’t say anything; so she didn’t. She kept what that man had said to herself and would try to find anything she could about any other wizards or witches being hit by lightning.
Hermione had begun talking about books the second they got to the library. Susan and she exchanged glances before shaking their head, chuckling.
Amaryllis and Susan went to the section she had wanted to check out; history. Which didn’t turn out too well, as there were countless books stacked on the shelves that ranged from every part of history down to family lineage. Susan had told her how proud most families were of their blood lineage and that it was normal in the Wizarding World for books to be in the school. It was part of the history and those who had gone to Hogwarts before them.
By the time they made it to the table Hermione was sitting at, with another stack of books beside her, they had a table full of books they couldn’t possibly get through. The rest, Amaryllis decided to check out and read through the week if she had the time.
“What does this even say?”
Susan leaned over to read what Amaryllis had tried to do for the past ten minutes and failed. “Why are you looking into the spells around the grounds?”
“I was…” Amaryllis glanced down at her hand, wondering what she should tell them without giving away the man who visited her.
“I’m not sure there’s any kind of spell that prevents what happened, Rhylie. If there is, I’m sure Dumbledore would have put something up after this.”
“What about something Dumbledore doesn’t know?”
“Rhylie, Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard in our time. There wouldn’t be a lot that could get past him.”
“What if it was someone more powerful than Dumbledore?”
Susan glanced at Hermione before turning her attention back to her. “Are you asking if you-know-who had something to do with this? Your brother defeated him, remember?”
Amaryllis shrugged, not going any further into details. It might have been better for them to think that than to know someone else had been there. Because there was no way her brother’s enemy would have helped her.
“I know that… I just…”
Hermione spoke, saying exactly what made Amaryllis afraid to tell them. “If there was something off, you need to tell Professor Dumbledore.”
Amaryllis hung her head. Hermione only spoke from what she knew. And Amaryllis had nothing to base the feeling she got from the man who visited her, other than that he meant no harm. “There’s nothing wrong. I was just running through theories.”
Hermione shifted in her seat and placed the book she had been reading down. Her brown eyes stared at her, but she could tell the brown-haired witch was contemplating something. “That’s good. And I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you have dyslexia?”
Amaryllis and Susan asked at the same time. “A what?”
Hermione sighed, barely holding back an eye roll. “Not a what. It’s a learning disorder. It’s where people have a hard time reading and spelling.”
“Does that make the letters float off the page and rearrange themselves? Because if not, then I don’t need it.”
“Well, yes. I don’t think it’s common, but some kids can have it. Haven’t your relatives or teachers done anything about it?”
Amaryllis scoffed at the thought of that. “My aunt and uncle couldn’t care less about what’s wrong with me. As for school, they just thought I wasn’t trying hard enough. Something simple was never just simple for me. I dealt with it and Harry helped me with classwork when I had begun to fail classes the more we grew up.”
Hermione’s expression fell. Her eyes softened; sympathy and guilt swirling in the mix. Not at her, but for her.
Amaryllis hated the type of sympathy that was aimed at what was wrong with her. What she went through was always overlooked by what could have been—if she were normal. But she wasn’t. And that was something she had to come to terms with to do what she could to prove those wrong.
“I got used to it.” Amaryllis shrugged, not used to others understanding how affected she had been by something she couldn’t control.
“But we’re here for you. Whatever that may be,” Susan added with a small smile.
Hermione quickly agreed, saying that at least she tried with her classwork while Harry and Ron went off and caused trouble and rushed their work and asked for hers.
Amaryllis said that was just like Harry. And Ron seemed similar in that it only added to their procrastination, making them both worse.
Hermione laughed alongside Susan. They may not have gotten close, even though Amaryllis had introduced them, Susan still hadn’t opened to the idea of sitting at another house’s table yet, and Amaryllis never pushed her to make the move. So, she spent time between the two tables and talking with Harry, Ron, and Hermione between classes and breaks.
“Your relatives sound horrible though. Harry would never talk about them much, or—” Hermione’s expression fell slightly, her gaze cast toward the book in her hands— “he tells Ron when I’m not around.”
Amaryllis exchanged a look with Susan. “What do you mean? I thought you three were friends.”
Hermione pursed her lips. “I did too. It’s… maybe I’m overthinking it, but Ron seems to make comments about my love to read and how right I have to be all the time when I correct something they got wrong or try to help with the spells.”
“If he didn’t want help, he could just say that and keep messing up. I know some people hate being corrected, even when they’re wrong, but maybe let them mess up. Let them stew in what they’re doing wrong.”
“Then they’ll begin to fail.”
Amaryllis stared at Hermione, not saying a word, and waited until she saw the horror strike her face.
“You want them to fail?”
Susan chuckled.
“I don’t want them to fail, but they also don’t want or appreciate your help. I didn’t give Harry rubbish—well, okay, a little. I was frustrated with reading, but I also knew he knew what he was doing and didn’t berate his help. Maybe they need to know that you won’t always help, especially when they treat you that way.”
“She’s right,” Susan added as they watched a dejected look fall over Hermione’s face.
There wasn’t much any of them could do. Not when one didn’t want to hear what you had to say, or the help you were giving. It was best to leave the boys alone and let them figure it out; even if it meant their grades dropping.
“And don’t let them give you rubbish for not helping or offering when they’re struggling. They should ask and not expect it. If they do, tell them to find me,” Susan informed Hermione with a tone that even she hadn’t heard.
She must have seen the surprised looks on both her and Hermione’s faces. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just… I’ve never seen you upset over something yet.”
Red crept up Susan’s face. “I don’t like people taking advantage of others.”
The sound of a book being dropped on the table made them jump in their chairs. Amaryllis shifted her feet under the table and turned to the noise as the familiar cold voice spoke.
“I see Potter got a scar of her own. Jealous your brother got attention for his? Should we call you Potter two?”
Amaryllis froze, lifting her arm off the table and hiding the half not covered by her uniform under the table. Her eyes rose slowly, the opposite of the pounding that beat against her chest. Icy-blue eyes met hers that were matched with a smirk.
“It’s not like I could control the weather, Malfoy, to give this to myself.”
Draco shrugged, sifting through the books they had piled to the side with a look of distaste as he barely read a word on the inside of one. “I asked my father about what happened, and he hasn’t heard of anyone being struck by lightning, not in at least five hundred years.”
Amaryllis didn’t see where he was going with it, and neither Hermione nor Susan seemed to either. “And? Get to the point if you came here for something. Otherwise, if you don’t mind, we have reading to get back to.”
“I find it curious that Potter’s twin no less was another to be hit by something that isn’t heard of in years. What are the chances of that?”
Amaryllis’s throat tightened. Even if she had words to throw back at him, she couldn’t get them out. Shivers ran down her arm, reminding her of the stinging burn when she had been struck. She turned away from the icy-blue eyes that froze her in place. She didn’t like being frozen, stuck in one spot and that’s what his words felt like—a shot of liquid ice that struck the weakest points she had. Whether he knew that or not.
“Back off, Malfoy. No one asked for your opinion.”
“Shut up, mud-blood.”
Amaryllis saw Hermione’s face drop; quick. She had no idea what Draco had said, but she didn’t need to know the meaning to know it was an insult and a very horrible one.
“Watch it, Malfoy. She may even be a better wizard than you,” Susan seethed right back.
Draco chuckled. His voice darkened as he spoke. “Her? Better? Disappointing from a blood traitor.”
Susan didn’t miss a beat as she retorted back. “I know where loyalties should lie and if that’s with the ones who don’t judge, then so be it. I know my parents don’t regard their blood as better than others. What’s disappointing is your fowl attitude.”
Amaryllis didn’t need to see that Draco glared at Susan when it became silent. He didn’t peg her as the quiet type and always seemed to have some kind of comeback.
She took the chance to raise her head, clenching her hands into fists, and swallowed the lump in her throat. It barely gave way, but it seemed to be enough to get words out, though they were weaker and her voice cracked. “You can say what you want about me. Call me whatever you want, but I won’t let you call my friends names.”
“Rhy–”
“No,” she cut Susan off, glaring at Draco as she stood, keeping her hands on the table to stop their shaking. She wasn’t sure if she did a good job when Draco’s eyes glanced down, but she ignored it. “What is your problem? Entitlement? Did your parents give you everything you asked for and now you’re a righteous prick?”
Draco’s eyes flared once again, cutting her off with a hard tone that was laced with rage. “My parents are at least alive. I can’t say the same for yours, leaving you with those muggles.” He spat the last word out as if it were poison coming off his tongue.
Amaryllis took a step toward Draco and watched as his eyes wavered, but held his ground.
“Rhylie, don’t,” Susan said, grabbing her arm before she could say anything else.
“Best listen to your friend, Potter.”
Amaryllis bit her tongue, holding back the words she wanted to say to Draco. Adding any more would only further the spat she had found herself in every time he was around and as much as it sucked, keeping quiet was the best way to get him to leave when he had nothing to keep fueling his words.
Draco smirked at her, covering the unease she saw in his eyes well enough that Susan or Hermione didn’t seem to pick up on it, but she saw. She saw because she had seen the same look in her eyes every time she looked in the mirror for years.
She was glad when he turned away from her, calling for Grabbe and Goyle—the two boys who always seemed to be around him.
“Hopefully no more storms happen at the time of your flying lessons. Would be a shame to get another matching scar.”
Amaryllis breathed out once he left, laughing at something he probably said like the git he was.
Hermione had quieted the rest of the time they were at the library, much to her and Susan’s efforts at trying to cheer her back up, that they had called it a day and checked out the books they wanted to continue to read.
Even their walk back to their common rooms was gloomy and barely held any conversation the two tried to pick up.