Anathema

Sing for absolution,

I will be singing,

And falling from your grace,

There's nowhere left to hide,

In no one to confide,

The truth burns deep inside,

And will never die.

Muse - Sing for Absolution

~*~

Amelia fished around in her pockets for a clean tissue. Her mother hated hearing her constantly sniffing - it just made her headaches worse. So Amelia carried one around with her most of the time as it wasn't like anyone else would bother. Saiph Nix wasn't known for her maternal instincts. As for Paul, ever since he started school at Hogwarts, he didn't have the time of day for anyone under the age of eleven.

Someone gently tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump. It was Paul. He smiled down at her weakly when she looked up, and silently passed a folded, white tissue.

There was something about this place, Amelia mused as she blew her nose and started to swing her legs, something that made people act differently. She glanced around the room they were in. It was quite normal really, nothing out of the ordinary struck her. She looked around again, trying to find something to latch a memory to. It was as though she was half expecting something unusual to appear. Portraits hung listlessly from the walls with paintings depicting vacant country scenes or battles that had long lost their shine.

Candles were quietly being lit by the house elves to ward off the darkness that had snuck up on them. The only things breaking this surreal silence were the quiet hiccups from Sero.

The three of them had arrived by Portkey. A slim, blonde haired woman had arrived to deliver it - one of her mother's friends, or so Paul had told her. And considering how cold he behaved towards her, she seemed quite friendly. From there, they were taken to her manor; according once again to Amelia's elder brother, the building stood somewhere in Wiltshire.

Amelia looked around again; it seemed as though they were in an antechamber that led off into a more luxurious room - the room that the blonde lady had disappeared to. Amelia had caught a glimpse of the elusive room as the door opened and longed for the fire that blazed in there, even though it was still only early evening.

Judging by Paul's furiously tapping feet, this was not a visit to be excited about.

The silence had become disturbing. Amelia tried to tap her feet like Paul was doing earlier. However, her feet didn't quite reach the floor and she had to perch on the very edge of the seat so that just the tip of her toes touched the floor. Although the patter had no rhythm or pattern to follow, she was content enough to just stomp her feet any old way...

"Shush!" Paul hissed, making her shrink back into her chair at once. He was trying to catch the snatches of conversation that were now audible from the other room. He strained his ears trying to listen to the low voices that floated through, merely murmurs that revealed nothing.

Amelia watched her brother, waiting for a reaction in vain. Finally she asked,

"What are they saying?"

The only reply she received was a frown as he concentrated even harder on the speech in the other room. His head was turned to one side, cocked and scowling harder, staring into space.

"I don't know," he finally sighed, leaning back heavily. "I just don't know."

*

The fact that they were unable to hear anything only affected Paul. His younger siblings were, well, too young to understand this enough to worry. Amelia was bright, much more than he was at eight-years-old, but so innocent. Nobody had ever hurt her properly; she had no reason not to trust people, and, he thought worriedly, had complete faith in him to get them out of any situation.

He almost didn't want her to grow up because the world would those qualities out of her, as she got older. At that moment she was just sitting there peacefully and unaware of what was to come. Paul felt a strong surge of remorse as he watched her humming as quietly as she could.

Then there was Sero. He was only a baby. For less than a month he had been sitting up on his own and had been totally dependant on his mother. The mother who was just as doting back.

To Paul, this was very disconcerting. Growing up, he didn't remember being hugged or looked after. Amelia and himself survived, but independently as soon as they hit the age of seven. He scratched his head thoughtfully. There had been some affection, but only from his father... And Paul seemed to be the only one to remember him. His little sister always came to him, never their mother. Saiph never comforted them like she had comforted Sero. Perfect, bloody Sero.

"Hold him for a second, would you?" he muttered, thrusting the baby into his sister's arms. He couldn't stand sitting around like this, unable to do anything.

*

Amelia cradled her baby brother in her arms, pulling faces at him playfully when his eyes blinked open. He was usually napping at this time and had even slept through the Portkey journey, only waking up momentarily to burp. She looked down at him, uncrossing her eyes.

His light blue eyes gazed back up at her. Every time she saw them she couldn't help but smile. Her mother, Paul and herself all had dark eyes; green, grey or brown. Apparently, the whole family did. Everybody had dark eyes and soft blonde hair. Everybody but Sero. Sero with his bright blue eyes that sparked like warm water with almost curly caramel hair.

Maybe that was why Paul didn't like him... Because he was different from the rest of the family? Amelia watched Paul from beneath her eyelashes as he continued pacing back and forth, clearly agitated.

Finally, he collapsed onto the seat that they were sharing, making it, and Amelia for that matter, bounce slightly. Sero started to burble happily, oblivious to anything around him. Paul shot him a dark look before leaning back into the chair, suddenly looking tired. Amelia swallowed nervously, finding the little courage she needed to ask him a question.

"Paul -"

The door banged open, cutting her enquiry short. She forgot what she was going to say as soon as she spotted a figure in the doorway. Vaguely aware of Paul picking Sero up from her lap, she grabbed his spare hand and he practically dragged her off the chair.

Whoever now stood in the doorway had a look of suppressed anger flickering in his eyes, and given the chance, Amelia suspected he would like to break something. But it seemed to pass when a sneer crept onto his face.

Amelia kept close to Paul, finding his hand squeezing her own was comforting. They walked across the room, and she remained clinging to his hand as those dangerous eyes followed them.

Paul seemed to know who he was, confirming her suspicions that he knew everything.

"Lucius," he murmured simply, inclining his head slightly.

The man grunted, sweeping into the other room as he coolly beckoned them to follow him. Paul looked down at Amelia for a second. His expression puzzled her; it was something close to apologetic. A split second later, it had vanished and was replaced by a cold, dead look as he stepped into the room, taking her with him.

She expected something to happen as she stepped over the threshold and into the room. A trap door, dropping her into darkness; a bolt of lightning frying her into a neat pile of ash, or, at the very least, someone to yell. Nothing happened.

The serene atmosphere she had left behind was replaced by a tense and nerve-crackling silence that cloaked her as soon as she stepped into the room. She could smell it and almost taste it; it was as though they had interrupted or overheard something they shouldn't have.

Paul gripped her hand harder.

No one spoke. There were three other people in the room, Lucius, that woman and another man.

The woman was the one who had brought them there in the first place. She hadn't even looked up when they had entered; all her attention was focused on a book that she was flicking through idly, looking thoroughly bored. The man who had summoned them stood before a desk laden with parchment and quills. He was leaning back on the dark table, smirking and tapping his long fingers lazily, watching them like a hawk. Amelia looked absently on the desk, seeing a knife, an inkpot and a half empty bottle of alcohol, which was weighing down a large pile of papers.

The third man had his back to them. His arm was rested on the wooden mantle piece. He was staring into the fire and barely seemed aware of anyone else. Unlike Lucius and the woman, he had extremely dark brown hair, which appeared black at first sight. Like them, he was dressed smartly in black robes. When he turned around he had a glower to rival his blonde haired friend's.

Except, when he saw them, Paul scowling, Amelia half hiding and Sero close to tears, something flickered in his eyes. Amelia wasn't sure whether it was surprise or recognition; she hoped it was neither.

"I am awfully sorry," Lucius drawled, interrupting the uncomfortable silence quite effectively. "I forgot to introduce you all."

Amelia looked at him suspiciously, not sure whether an introduction would be good.

"This is Thomas Riddle," Lucius continued, unaware of their thoughts or wishes on the matter. "Riddle, these are Saiph Nix's children."

"I know," Riddle and Paul both spoke, using each other's tone of voice.

Lucius looked mildly interested but didn't peruse the subject as he poured two copious glasses of indistinguishable liquid.

Amelia watched the parchment spring up once the weight of the bottle was removed. She watched it placidly, almost amicably, float to the ground. It looked like a birth certificate, a familiar family crest embossed on one side although she couldn't see the name, or much else, in the dim light.

Lucius sauntered over to the fireplace, briefly looking at the woman, who glanced up when he walked past, and handed Riddle a glass, before turning his gaze onto her. Had she been brave, she would have frowned right back at him, eyes blazing. However, she didn't feel remotely brave at that point and remained behind her brother, fixated on the rug, not looking back at the paper on the floor.

Something had to have transpired while she was inspecting the floor because the lady glided over the room to her, kneeling down gracefully to her level.

"Come on, sweetie," she cooed, gently removing her hand from Paul's now sticky grip. "Let's go with your little brother and see if Draco has come back from his aunt's."

Amelia would have liked to go with her. She liked this woman despite her brother's less than warm opinion about her, and if she was a friend of her mother's, she couldn't be that bad. Amelia couldn't help but notice that she had such an inviting smile.

Paul found his sister's hand and grasped it harder than before. It dragged her back into reality.

"Um, well," she stammered, aware of everyone's attention on her solely. "No, I think I'll stay."

After a few moments of silence, in which the woman glanced back at Lucius, she squeezed her arm a little too hard and stood up elegantly.

"Alright then," she sighed demurely, dragging a nail lightly down Amelia's cheek and gazing down at her, her eyes not as friendly. "But I have to go anyway."

Amelia swallowed, unsure that she had done the right thing. Paul didn't want her to go but she couldn't help wondering if it wasn't for entirely selfless reasons...

"Thanks," he mouthed, letting go of her hand briefly to adjust Sero's position.

She smiled back lamely, watching the woman kiss Lucius and walk out of the room without another word or backward glance. The two men started conversing. Riddle was barely touching his drink and Lucius was frowning. Amelia could hear them talking, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. The only thing she caught was Lucius looking at Sero, who now had Paul's full attention because of his crying, as he conceded a 'maybe'.

House elves edged in warily to light the lamps and candles. She had no idea it had gotten so dark. The dreary picture above the fireplace was practically shrouded in darkness, as was the rest of the room. The flickering fire did little to light the corners of the ominous cabinets around the walls and the inanimate objects on the desk now appeared scarier then they were five minutes before.

Amelia stepped closer to Paul, wanting to shrink until she was small enough to crawl into Paul's pocket and stay in there forever.

But at the moment, Paul was dealing with Sero, unaware of Lucius slinking back to the desk, drawing out another piece of parchment and retrieving another.

Riddle placed the glass on the ledge and plucked the birth certificate from the floor. After a few seconds, he looked right at her for the first time and his eyebrows shot up slightly.

She hid her face behind Paul's comforting robes.

"Have a seat Amy." Lucius muttered, distractedly, breaking the stillness by slamming a drawer. Paul had passed Sero over a few seconds before and she saw him pause when he got the name wrong. Correcting Lucius certainly wasn't going to be her job.

Without a word, she shuffled over to the chair that the blonde woman was seated on before.

Sero stopped whinging and wiggling to stare around from his new perspective.

Paul suddenly looked alone, standing near the door, looking unsure of what to do with himself.

She felt a stab of late sympathy for her brother, watching him alone over there. Amelia had realised too late that maybe he needed them as much as they needed him.

Amelia blinked something out of her eye and stared around. In front of her, with his back to the fire, hands clutching one another behind that, she saw Riddle lick his lips in anticipation. Amelia wrapped her arms around Sero's waist as he thankfully remained quiet.

"I suppose you know why you're here?"

Lucius was talking to Paul, and Paul alone. Amelia glanced at her elder brother. She didn't know why they were here; no explanations had been offered to her at any point from anyone. All she could remember from today was Paul waking her up, something novel to her, and making a rushed breakfast for her. For the rest of the morning they had tidied the house, her brother frantically checking the fireplace and clocks in turn. Her initial thought had been that they were playing a game. Their mother had disappeared again (not as unusual as Paul led most people to believe) and had yet to return. Paul always invented these sorts of games to distract Amelia from her worries; this was the reason to why she thought that today's events were just another silly, entertaining game.

Then Narcissa, or whatever her name was, had appeared with a Portkey. Amelia had found no opportunity to ask anyone any questions. She had been left in the blue, transported to this room and this situation with no idea what it was about.

Paul caught Amelia's gaze and said uneasily, "Mr Malfoy, please, not in front of-"

"She wanted to stay," he returned, cutting Paul off and glaring at Amelia at the same time. "She can hear all right."

Paul closed his mouth without another word.

Malfoy continued as if nothing had happened, as though no one had spoken up and continued as before.

"I take it you do then. What have you got to say about yourself?"

Paul said nothing, and didn't look up from the floor she had examined herself at what seemed like a year ago.

Amelia busied herself with Sero even though he was sitting perfectly quietly, playing with his toes, absent-mindedly trying to put them into his mouth whilst watching the whole scene with interest. Amelia knew from experience, Sero wasn't bothered about anything if he was warm and well fed, and to prove her point, his eyes started drooping sleepily.

Not sure what to do with his dead weight on her aching arms, she placed him carefully on the sofa next to her, making sure he would stay there. Dealing with Sero wasn't something she was used to; there was always a silencing charm around her room so she couldn't hear any cries at night.

Her mother always dealt with her baby brother.

"I've heard the rumours," Paul stated mechanically, seemingly aware that Lucius was still waiting none-too-patiently for a reply. "Are they true?"

From the fireplace, she heard Riddle cough quietly. She looked up but no one seemed to notice.

"Yes," Lucius replied, relishing the single syllable before continuing. "They are. At least, the ones I've heard are."

Paul slid his hand into his pocket and she saw him grip his wand. Somehow she knew that he chance of getting anywhere with it, except getting hurt. By the look of the room and its owners, there was dark magic floating around in there. One word from Lucius could render her elder brother dead, or, a lot worse. And then there was Riddle; he looked young compared to his friend, no older than twenty, but there was something about him.

Oh yes, before we start - " Lucius said brightly. He raised his wand in a confident motion and filled the room with the yelled charm, "Expelliarmus!"

Paul's wand was wrenched out of his grasp. It soared through the room and landed on Lucius' outstretched hand. After a second, he placed it calmly on the mantelpiece delicately.

Amelia blinked.

Paul didn't look as bothered as she thought he would. He just seemed a little grateful that nothing worse had been inflicted on him. Riddle rubbed his eyes, unaware of Amelia watching him.

Amelia returned her attention back to her brother who was smiling again in a strange, ironic way.

Lucius frowned. "You don't seem very concerned, Master Nix," Lucius remarked, setting his empty glass on the table.

Paul caught his sister's eye before answering, "Let's just say she isn't the sort that would get any mothering awards."

Riddle grinned momentarily, catching Lucius' eye.

Amelia fiddled with her hair guiltily; she ought to be defending her mother's honour, putting Paul right. Only he was right. She had seen other people's mothers; they were nice, cuddly, and made their thirsty children juice and offered to help with homework. Her mother did none of that. All her attention was constantly on Sero. Her attention never focused on Paul or Amelia for longer than a second, if even that. As far as Amelia could remember, it was Paul that looked after her. But he only made sure she wasn't hungry or dirty or cold. The rest of the time she was left to her own devices.

"I wasn't talking about that," Lucius muttered.

Paul's reply was a shrug and a somewhat crude remark.

"Fair enough," Lucius commented dryly and glanced at her and Sero, "But aren't you concerned about what'll happen to your siblings?"

"We're to go into your wife's care," Paul stared hard at Lucius before adding, "And hers alone."

Amelia suppressed a smile, trying to hide the bubble of pride. That was her brother, her brother who knew everything. He knew where they were going, why they were here and as far as she was concerned she was completely safe so long as he was here, knowing what would happen.

Lucius didn't say anything for a moment.

"It's not that simple, my dear boy," he said slowly. He had stolen Paul's smile and turned it into a smirk.

"Sorry?"

Riddle put the glass to his mouth but didn't take a drink. Amelia watched him until he looked at her, which made her look away hastily, even though he smiled at her.

Lucius, however, didn't see anything.

"You're not solely in the care of my wife," he answered somewhat happily. "You're going to live under my roof, you're going to eat my food, use up my money. Not Narcissa's. So, the courts saw fit to entrust the custody of you and your siblings to both of us."

Paul turned a nasty shade of grey.

"No reply?" Lucius enquired innocently.

Paul hadn't so much as opened his mouth when Lucius raised his wand and her brother was thrown back against the wall. There was a sickening crack and she gasped, frozen to the seat. There was blood. Her brother's blood trickling down his forehead slowly. She caught Thomas' eye and saw that his mouth was open for a second before he walked up to Lucius and muttered something.

By that time, Paul was on his feet again, though shakily and not inspiring the confidence that he had lost in his sister.

Amelia's imagination was racing, running away with all her normal, coherent thoughts. If Lucius had no qualms about throwing a twelve year old boy across the room, what would he do with a defenceless eight year old and an infant? Suddenly, she wished she'd gone with Narcissa.

"Well, boy?" Lucius demanded, smiling vehemently in a way that made Amelia feel nauseous.

Unsteadily, Paul touched his forehead carefully.

He looked scared, Paul really looked scared. For the first time in years he wasn't the fearless leader or big brother to pick her up and make her grazes better. He was just a little boy; he was only twelve and Lucius was treating him like he was someone old enough to have a duel with.

"What do you want me to say?" Paul yelled hoarsely, looking at the blood on his fingertips. "Do you want me to get on my knees, thank you, proclaim my undying debt to you and your wife?!"

Lucius looked taken aback for a split second but regained his smirk just as quickly.

"I'll tell you what will happen," he whispered, his voice deceptively calm. "First of all, you're going to shut the hell up and listen for once in your short, fecking life."

Paul scowled at the man in front of him. Everyone, except Riddle, seemed to have forgotten about Amelia again.

"And then" Lucius smiled sweetly, "You're going to do precisely what you're told."

Amelia watched silently, knowing that Paul was not a fan of taking orders.

Now, however, now he was wearing a sour expression, looking at Lucius mutinously.

Lucius just laughed.

Knocking back the remainder of his drink, Riddle stalked over to her and Sero, whether to give support or intimidate her, she wasn't sure. She did, however, know that her nerves were doubled.

Paul noticed them and looked like he was going to do something then thought better of it.

Besides that, Malfoy had begun paying attention again.

"Paul?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," he mumbled.

"Good."

A few moments of silence followed again, as Lucius fiddled about with some papers. Amelia wasn't altogether convinced that he was genuinely looking for something. His eyes were glazed over and he was frowning, like he was searching for a way of phrasing his next sentence.

Sero sniffed. Riddle made a small blanket appear from nowhere and placed it over her little brother. Amelia finally managed to smile back at him, though she knew it was a sickly sort of smile. She was too worried about...everything. Her stomach was constantly writhing, spreading rippling nerves throughout her body until her hands began to shake.

Despite her attempts to hide them, Riddle saw her trembling hands.

"Here's what's going to happen," Lucius started, using the most placating tone imaginable. "You're going to take your brother, your sister and yourself to one of the guest rooms. When you get there, you're going to unpack for them and come back here. You're going back to Hogwarts."

Paul opened his mouth but Lucius didn't stop. "You're overcome with grief, you see," At this point, Paul snorted but didn't argue. "And you're going to stay at school until the summer holidays."

The summer holidays? Those holidays were miles away. She'd be left here in a strange house, full of people who obviously hated her and with no one but her smelly baby brother for company. Who'd look after him? Sero was helpless without their mother; he could barely sit up and there was no possibility that Amelia could look after him; she could hardly look after herself.

If she and her siblings had to be put into the care of the Malfoy's, that must mean her mother was...

Dead.

Oh.

"Do you understand me?"

Paul gritted his teeth. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

Someone placed a hand on her shoulder but all she could do was stare blankly at her younger brother. She couldn't stand to look at the one standing opposite her, all alone.

All alone.

*

Paul hadn't cried in years. Neither had she. Well, months at the very least. Amelia also hated seeing people cry; she found it horrible and uncomfortable.

The sixth year girls were always crying at her school. They'd have a fight, cry, make up, and then cry again. Whoever was still a friend of the weeping wreck of a girl would hug them sometimes, comfort them and try and get them to smile. Amelia would have just stood at a distance, asking every so often if they were okay.

She was fine when someone would trip up, graze their knees and start crying. That was okay, they were in pain, and it was understandable as it could be made better.

However, if someone cried when they were physically healthy, it made her uneasy and edgy. Not to mention, stupid. Stupid for not being able to do anything to help.

Now, when Paul was leaning against the heavy door of their new room, silently letting the tears roll down his face, all she could do was stare at him, hoisting her burdensome baby brother up every so often. She had asked if his forehead hurt, but he just shook his head up, screwing his face up, sniffing. He hadn't made any noise yet, not any serious sobs anyway; just the occasional snuffle or troubled breath in.

Amelia swallowed awkwardly, lying Sero down in the cot that Riddle had created when he and Lucius dropped them off here. Lucius hadn't even bothered to wait until their trunks arrived, stalking out of the room. A second later, a door was opened and slammed along the corridor. Riddle, who stayed, told her that it was his son's room.

Paul didn't do much talking to Riddle. In fact, he didn't do much talking at all. He just stood there, ashen faced, answering questions with single words or just a nod of the head. In the end, Riddle just talked to her until Lucius returned a quarter of an hour later.

Someone snivelled and she wasn't sure which brother it was.

Amelia sighed and glanced again at the door and her brother. He slid slowly to the floor, landing with a soft bump, his elbows on his bent knees, resting his forehead on his palms, staring into nothing.

Then his shoulders were shaking.

She slipped off the bed and crawled over to him, her knees suddenly shaky and weak. He started to really sob now. Unsure of what to do, she started to lightly tug at his robe sleeve, pulling herself on her knees so she was almost kneeling.

"Is your forehead hurting now?"

There was still crusted, dried blood on his forehead and he rubbed it obstinately.

"No," he replied thickly. "It's fine."

She couldn't stop stroking and pulling the fabric of his clothes.

"Are you tired?"

"No."

"Don't you feel very well?"

He sighed quietly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and then replacing it back to its original position. His sobs seemed to be subsiding but now they were more like choked hiccups, racking his whole frame.

"No, I'm fine."

She had run out of things to say. He was okay, he was fine.

"So, you're okay then?"

Yes, he's fine. He told you he was fine so he's fine. Let it drop...

"No! No I'm bloody not!"

She jumped back. He had never shouted at her like that. Never. He didn't say anything else and started to pitifully weep again. She didn't go back to his side even when he sobbed a wretched apology. Maybe he was worried about what would happen to her and Sero while he was at school...

Tentatively, she scooted forward a little.

"Are you worried about going to Hogwarts?" she asked so softly that she was scared that he hadn't heard at all. "Because you shouldn't. Me and Sero will be alright, Tom says that he'll look-"

No sooner had the words come out of her mouth, Paul shot up, his temper flaring up once more. Only it wasn't directed at her. He shoved the rusty bolt at the top of the door across violently, making him shudder with the vibrations.

"Don't ever trust him!" he shouted hoarsely. "If you knew what he does, what he did..."

Amelia, shocked by this sudden outburst, said nothing in return.

Sero started wailing, his ugly baby screams blocking every rational thought from entering her mind.

Paul strode over to him, soothing him for a few seconds until he fell asleep once more. At that point, he fell onto the bed, sitting on the edge. She could see the fresh tear stains on his cheek sparkling in the lamp light.

She suddenly wanted to cry herself.

Silently, she walked up to the bed and edged across so she was sitting on his side.

"What does he do?" she asked, gently.

"He..."

But Paul just shook his head and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She hadn't realised how cold she was, hugging his torso comfortingly and closing her eyes.

After a few moments, he shifted his position so she ended up with her head lying on his leg, looking at Sero's sleeping form. He started to fiddle with her hair, his fingers catching on the knots.

"What's going to happen, Paul?"

She felt him tense. Why did she always ask stupid or uncomfortable questions? Eventually he relaxed, brushing the hair out of her face.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts," he replied flatly. "I'll be back in the summer holidays."

"But they're miles away!"

She looked up at him and saw him smiling. "It's the end of the Easter break," he explained patiently, "there's only one term left, you see."

"Oh."

He chuckled but stopped when she asked him what was happening to her and Sero. He merely licked his lips and sighed.

"You're staying here. Under the hospitality of the Malfoy's until further notice."

"But my school-"

"Apparently you were removed just before the start of the holidays, so I don't think anyone will be suspicious."

Every sentence he said made her heart a little heavier. All that he seemed to say was awful things, news of unneeded happenings. All her friends would hate her for not telling them she was leaving.

"When do you come back?"

Soon, please soon.

"I don't know, 'Melia." he sighed.

Amelia frowned. She hated his nicknames for her but this one was all right. Her friends called her that, not that they were ever likely to again. Her mother rarely called her but when she did it was 'Amelia! Come here!' Her friends were the only ones who called her 'Melia.

So, it was up to her. If he was calling her a normal, nice, name then he really must be admitting defeat.

Think, think...

"I know!" she cried, sitting up suddenly and making her brother jump, before breaking into a smile. I have a plan!"

"Oh, yes?" he said, mildly interested.

Her idea was so simple; it was a wonder that Paul hadn't already thought of this. It was amazing now that she had thought about it, simply amazing. When they were out of this mess, he would owe her one, big time.

"You tell your teacher! Erm, Dubbleborn? Dibleydore?"

Paul smiled. "Dumbledore?"

Amelia nodded her head furiously, but he just smiled sadly. "I can't," he said, simply destroying the budding (and already growing) scheme in her mind. "If I do, you and Sero will be killed."

"Oh. Right."

Slowly, she put her head back onto his leg as he collapsed completely onto the covers. At least he wasn't crying anymore. An awful sort of acknowledgment of his fate, though, had replaced the tears and he was prepared to do nothing about it.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes and they fell down silently. That was the last thing she could remember before she fell asleep; the inextinguishable sense of foreboding.