✦
chapter fourteen;
betting on feelings
Amaya was sitting on James' lap, straddling his thighs as he sat on his bed, propped up against the headboard, his eyes looking up at her with such emotions Amaya would dare, in that moment, call it love. Her heart was racing as she readied herself to tell him everything.
"You don't have to tell me, love," he said softly as if he sensed her unease. "Not if you aren't ready."
"I want to. I trust you."
He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as he patiently waited for her to start. And Amaya did just that. She started telling him the story of Goldsaint, how her father grew bored and decided thievery was the greatest hobby, and how he created his legacy. She told him about how he raised her, and when she mentioned the Unforgivables, James' hold on her thighs had tightened, his jaw clenching.
"Is that what you're so scared of? In your dreams?" he asked, his voice tense.
"That's a part of it."
His eyes looked heartbroken for her and he pulled her closer, grabbing her hand in his. "Go on."
She swallowed a lump in her throat, and did as he said, fiddling with his hand as she did. "He died a few years ago, in London. We were in his townhouse, he'd bought it as Goldsaint—he used to wear a golden mask that was impossible to take off by anyone else, and that's where he made his deals. I was in his office and he was trying to teach me to use a wand for the first time. I hated those things, still do in part, and I was being difficult. He was getting mad, James, he was sick of my failures, and he wanted me to "man up" and be more like him. He was in the middle of teaching me a lesson with the Crutiatus curse when a door burst open downstairs.
"He shoved me in the closet and I was still weak and shivering, and I could barely move—" she hadn't realized she started crying until James wiped her tears away, "—and then they burst in. These masked men, Death Eaters, and before my father could speak they'd cut off his hands... I remember his screams, James, I remember his pain until he died. And I did nothing. When they left I barely could breathe, I tried to bring him back, use the healing he showed me, but I—His hands were on the ground and the stench was—" Amaya raised a hand to her mouth as she choked on a sob.
James softly grabbed her face, kissing her forehead. "You don't have to keep going."
"No, but there's more, James. I have to tell you. Please let me tell you everything," she found herself pleading with him, she wanted to show him everything she had gone through and see if he still wanted her after that. James nodded softly, his own eyes glossy as if he would cry for her.
"Alright."
She nodded and went on. She told him what happened after, the Aurors that came to take him away when she called, how she paid them a heavy sum from whatever she found in the house for them to keep it under wraps. She told him about the look on her mother's face when she went back home, the heartbreak in her eyes, and the accusation towards Amaya because she did nothing.
"Honestly I hardly remember the years after that. They're a blur in my mind. I fell into this vicious cycle of partying with random people, drinking until I couldn't see straight and just trying to bury the past—"
"You were a kid," said James with a frown and Amaya shrugged.
"No one cared. I certainly didn't." She briskly wiped a tear away, looking down at their hands on his lap. "Well, until I found Elio."
"The muggleborn?"
Amaya nodded. "It was somewhere last year. And I didn't find him, more like he found me. It was the worst I'd ever been. I think I might've taken something, I dunno. Drugs don't have the same effect on wizards or witches and somehow I found myself a town over from mine, unconscious in a barn."
James looked worried and his voice broke when he asked. "Did—Did something happen to you?"
Amaya looked away from him and his hand on her thigh tensed. "No," she finally answered quietly. "Not exactly. That was the time I—I met this guy and I just wanted to forget everything. My mother had been gone for months in her campaign for muggleborns or whoever the fuck she chooses to take care of instead of me and I... He drove me to this barn and I was pissed, Jamie, but I did want it. We had sex and then I guess he left me there." She shrugged, sniffing preventing herself from crying.
"Fucking cunt," James said, glaring at nothing in particular and her lips twitched up.
"Elio found me there. He'd been working for this farm for a while, this twelve-year-old boy who had to run away from his family." Amaya started tearing up again and urged herself to blink the tears away. "He was running because he knew something was different with him. He knew he could do things he wasn't supposed to be able to and he knew they'd kill him for it. And when I found him, I could feel it, his magic. It was so out of control, James. It was overwhelming. And I just, I chose to do something. Because he took care of me; because he was kinder than any wizard or muggle I'd met until that point and he had no one that could help him."
"What happened then?"
"I took him to a house we had a few towns over that no one used anymore, and told him to stay put. I brought him food, made sure he was fine, and didn't go past the grounds and then I started... stealing wands Consortium. We don't use them but there's an archive of them if anyone is in need. And I don't know much about wands but I still knew it would be the only way I could teach Elio magic in time. His magic was so overwhelming it wouldn't be long before he either became an Obscurial or it just became too much to control.
"I never found a wand that fit him right, but he started controlling his magic slightly, there was hope. I started going around other towns too looking for other kids to help, muggleborns that would be in danger if they couldn't keep their magic a secret if they couldn't control it." Amaya closed her eyes, images of young kids with toothless smiles holding her hand as she led them to this house that'd become a sort of haven for them. "I found a handful of them. The youngest were easier to teach, their magic was still really malleable. I just had to bring it to the surface. The oldest were harder but the wands helped. But then—"
She paused, taking a shaky breath and James tugged her closer, wrapping his arms around her and she buried her head in his shoulder.
"Go on," he said gently, his hand rubbing her back and Amaya let out a small sob.
"Elio ran away." She shook in his hold as she told him. "He was the one doing the worst worth his magic because we just couldn't find a way for him to take the reins on all the magic he had. It was so strong James. Too strong. He was sick of being stuck in the house and the grounds and he wanted to be normal.
"I went after him but when I found he'd had accidentally blown up a church in a little town. He was crying in the middle of the rubble holding this woman in his arms and—He was apologizing again and again, and I could feel his magic waving off him stronger and stronger every time, as he held this dead woman and—The Guardas got to him before I could. They went by force and tore him off the corpse and I wanted to help James, I did, but Elio just let go. He let the magic consume him entirely, every bit of control he had gone, and—He and the Guardas died. He was so little, so young, and he—"
Tears were streaming down her face at that point, staining James' shirt and he only tightened his hold on her. "It wasn't your fault, love," he said quietly, and that only made her cry harder.
"I didn't do anything. If I had gone to him—"
"You'd be dead too," he said gravely and Amaya swallowed a lump in her throat. "He was distraught and out of control, darling. If you'd been close by you would've died too."
"Perhaps I should've—"
"Don't say that," James cut her off as he pulled away, making her look at him, even when her tears were making him blurry she saw a tear slip past his eyes, and he briskly wiped it away before he brushed her tears away. "Please don't say that. What happened after?"
"They found me crying over his body." She took a shaky breath calming herself. "Thought I had a part in killing him I guess. They also linked me to the stolen wands and they found the house—"
"What happened to the other kids?"
"They were able to hide. And I told them to go to my mother if they were ever in trouble and I wasn't around. She helped them. At least that's what she told me. I believe they're in France." Amaya shrugged. "I dunno where."
"And what happened to you?"
"I was sentenced to death at first," she said and he paled. "But they found out I was a Santoro so that reduced my sentence to a lifetime in Azkaban or some other magical prison. My mother helped though, that would've ruined the family name so she kept it under wraps and was able to persuade the Consortium to just... exile me."
"They exiled you?"
Amaya nodded an emotionless smile on her face. "I can never go back to the Peninsula. Or they'll kill me on the spot. That was the deal."
"That's fucking mental." James shook his head in frustration. "And your mother? She can't do anything?"
"Maybe. But I don't want to go back there," Amaya said. "Besides, I haven't talked to her since I left the country."
"She hasn't written to you?"
Amaya shook her head and he frowned.
"It's her loss," he told her.
She smiled before it faltered again. And told him about her time in the Consortium, because if she was telling him the truth she might as well tell him everything. She told him about the coldness, the lack of magic that barely kept her alive; she told him about the Guardas, about the bodies, she told him everything and James just listened, his eyes looking on the verge of crying though he never did.
"I can't go back there," she finished with a broken whisper.
James met her eyes. "You won't. There's no way we're letting that happen."
She nodded, wiping her tears away as she tried to compose herself and when she looked up at him there was no pity to see in his eyes, just pure heartbreak. For her.
Amaya leaned in, kissing him, at first she was thanking him, slowly pouring her heart out and he kissed her back. But then her heart wanted to race out of her chest completely, her mind flashed with the memories she long had buried and her kisses turned fervent, despite the tear marks down her face.
She tugged him closer, wanting him to just take her away. James pulled away, looking at her with a look akin to pity. She let out a sob, pulling him closer. "Please, Jamie, just make me forget."
James shook his head, grabbed her face in his hands, and softly kissed her tears away, gently kissing her eyelids and then her nose, and her cheeks but never her lips.
"I'll hold you if you want, I'll do whatever you want except that." He rested his forehead against hers. "I don't want to be your escape, Maya. Not when you're vulnerable. I won't take advantage of that. What we'll do is make sure you're ready to face the world. We're going on a flight, and you'll be free like you are when we're flying. And then we'll go down to dinner and when we come back up here, I'll..." he trailed off his lips finally capturing hers in a sweet kiss.
"What?" Amaya whispered. "What will you do?"
"I'll show you how much you mean to me," he said. "And I'll show you how fucking special you are."
"Just tonight?"
He smiled. "If it's up to me, darling, I'll do it for the rest of our lives."
Her heart raced in her chest and suddenly she wanted to cry again, not out of sadness or grief but from pure happiness. Instead, she kissed him.
"Does that mean you don't hate me now?" she whispered.
"Not even a little bit," he whispered back. "I won the bet, loser."
"You're stuck with me then, idiot."
James shrugged, kissing her. "I can live with that."
✦