Sorry might not cover it

It was twilight over Hogwarts, the time when the sun bathed the sky in its orange glow. It was the point in time, that tiny part of time that separated day from night. It was also the time of the day before the gates of Hogwarts closed the world out for the night until morning when they would open once more. It was when Elijah Krum would leave and go into Hogsmeade to retrieve his daughter for the night. There he would indulge in her, play her games and draw her until there was no more room in his notepad. It was those times that were precious to him but it seemed as if he could no longer do that freely any more. Hogwarts had changed and he had with it. Perhaps that was why he remained on the grounds, watching from up high in the Owlery’s rafters out through a window as the sun trickled away over the horizon, as all remaining flow of colour was leeched away from the sky.

The rafters were large and towered over the rest of the owlery in their place at the very top. A few owls perched on them but they’d long since flown away to their spaces, not wanting to spend their time with him. Perhaps even they had noticed his lack of reality. His head was in the clouds much more than usual and he found himself writing to his father, asking for cigarettes by the box full. Eli had lost count of how many he’d been smoking a day but he’d cut down considerably since that point. He didn’t know how it had began, probably worrying over foolish things, seeing the way everyone was on the balls of their feet like elk running from the prey of the wolves. It had sparked something in him that didn’t quite feel right, that felt wrong. Whatever it was, Eli no longer cared. He was just angry at himself. Was it a great lust for power that had brought him to the Imperium Squad? Probably. He wished he hadn’t though; he was being separated from Fauve as a result.

The Krum heir was not sat in the rafters as obviously as one might think. He didn’t have his legs swinging either side or any of the like. Instead it was a huge tiger lying on the beams with only a snake to keep it company. Eli understood why Sirius Black remained in his Animagus form for most of his time in Azkaban. The mind of an animal was uncomplicated. It didn’t have the need to process a thousand thoughts at one time. Eli thanked God for not giving animals such complicated minds otherwise he could never escape the spider-web of his human brain.

The cat, which was lazily flicking its striped tail, was getting glares from the owls. Elijah realised that sure, owls didn’t like predators but they could have at least stopped glaring at him. It wasn’t as if he was going to eat one of them. Elijah might not have been a picky eater but he would happily say no to owl. That didn’t really float his boat. If he was going to eat anything in his Animagus form then it would something that ate things other than mice and owl treats from the emporium in Diagon Alley. But he was at Hogwarts which meant good things for him. He was in a position of great power over the rest of the students and he planned on keeping it that way unless something else happened.

An owl hooted and Eli’s eyes flicked over to see Nachash hissing at the offending poultry. He once again wondered why you’d want to eat an owl but ignored it. With a hiss of his own in muddled Parseltongue which had been affected by his current form, Nachash returned to his side high in the rafters. The cold-blooded snake seemed to like the warm fur of the cat and Eli couldn’t help but smirk a little, even if it did feel a bit odd. Nachash melted under his skin and he yawned. “Fauve has been complaining for most of the day.” She commented idly as Eli flicked his tail at one of the owls that were getting a little too close for comfort. “She’s lonely. When are you going back?”
“Soon,” Eli said with a sigh. “It’s getting difficult to get away. Can you at least tell her that?”
“That strange woman you’re now stuck with. Her husband has friends in Paris. Fauve is going there if you can’t get back at night.” Nachash said stonily.
“Who decided this?” Eli snapped.
“I did.”

Another sigh escaped the mouth of the cat and the snake dismissed herself. He saw her leave the Owlery through the door and he laid his head on his paws. Sometimes he couldn’t stand that snake but other times he loved her to pieces. This was one of the times when he wished he could send her back where she’d come from. But he knew that Nachash only cared about Fauve and if, in her eyes, Eli wasn’t doing a good job as the father he was meant to be then she’d send her back to France. Eli didn’t want Fauve to go of course but the little girl missed France as much as he did so perhaps it was better. He just wondered why Nachash was being that way. He’d go back on Friday. Then he’d let Fauve go to France but if she was going to stay with anyone then she’d stay with Paula. At least Eli knew that the ex-model would look after his daughter.

Amelia was, by all accounts, exhausted, and in no mood to deal with her mother’s antics. Of course, her mother had never really taken into account what Amelia was in the mood for, which made her current situation not all that surprising. The enormous box Amelia was now levitating up up the steps to the owlery was filled with evidence of her mother’s inability to understand Amelia’s needs or wants, and its weight was slowing the redhead down.

Who would ever need a skintight silk halter top? Amelia wondered begrudgingly as she flicked her wand to bring the box around the corner, but in her inattention accidentally ran it into the windowsill, sending the thing dropping to the floor. A pair of designer jeans – as if she needed another pair – fell out onto the steps, along with knee high snakeskin boots, both of which Amelia hastily shoved back into the box, sighing heavily.

Her mother’s taste had always been… different from Amelia’s. Antoinette loved the finer things in life, the things which got you noticed and made a statement of your standing in society. Amelia, on the other hand, preferred understated, classic pieces that didn’t require much maintenance and would never go out of style; things that made her both acceptable and mostly invisible. Seeing as Amelia spent most of her time at school, though, Antoinette did most of Amelia’s shopping for her, and despite Amelia’s many attempts to plead with her mother to buy her something she would actually consider wearing, most of what came by own post went right back.

Raising her wand and the box once more, Amelia neared the top of the steps, more careful with the box this time lest she have to repack it yet again. Just as she was about to come to the landing, she felt a slippery feeling near her ankle and looked down just quick enough to see the tail of a snake whipping around the corner of the spiral staircase. She wondered only for a moment about the snake, but she had too many other things on her mind today to pay it much mind. Snakes and owls shared parts of the same diet; perhaps it had come looking for leftovers of some student-provided meal.

Pushing open the door to the owlery, Amelia entered the circular room and guided the box within a foot of the floor before allowing it to drop with a thud, sending bits of dust and straw rising into the air. Amelia fanned a hand in front of her face to dissipate the dust, brushing a few flecks off the jeans she wore, the oldest pair she had managed to keep from her mother, who usually pried anything more than a year old out of Amelia’s grips.

Having removed the offending dirt from her clothing, Amelia looked upwards, anticipating looking for Aurora among the rafters, but what she saw above her was not fowl, but feline. Her eyes widened visibly and she stepped backward instinctively before realizing that she recognized the furry white tiger who, for reasons beyond her knowledge, had chosen the ceiling of the owlery as its resting place.

Elijah, Amelia’s mind whispered, the name coming out of the back of her mind where she had buried it after growing tired of dwelling on him earlier in the year. He had come into her life like a whirlwind and left just as fast. It was nothing more than she had expected, but something about him had imprinted on her and made him difficult to forget. But Amelia was practiced at distancing people from herself, and burying Elijah in the back of her mind had been her method of doing the same to him. Setting her lips in a thin line, Amelia took a deep breath and crossed her arms defensively over her chest, trying to disguise her original shock and subsequent actions.

“I would ask if there is some other, more inconvenient place for you to be right now,” Amelia said dryly, looking up at the Siberian tiger who was just another form of a certain Slytherin, “But I think we both know the answer to that. You always were good at being in just the wrong place at the right time. Are you going to get down so I can coax my owl out of hiding from you?” Amelia asked curtly, keeping her voice level and her words short to show that she harbored no thoughts on Elijah and wasn’t at all disappointed by the fact that he hadn’t talked to her in months.

Or at least to pretend she wasn’t.

The Owlery wasn’t the best place in the world for an animal to sit, let alone something the size of a tiger. Eli blamed his height because his Animagus was simply huge. He was actually waiting for his father’s owl but it had come in an hour or so ago along with his mother’s. She seemed to be trying for a better relationship with him and he didn’t mind too much, she seemed to be sending the right things. Eli suspected Cecilia was telling him what to send his way but anything from cigarettes to paint would get someone on his good side so he couldn’t complain much. The only thing that really bothered him was that she put the stuff in a box which went in another box and was then wrapped in about five layers of wrapping paper that had pictures of his father all over it. That was probably the only downside of her random gift-giving tendencies.

The owls had come in but he hadn’t chosen to retrieve the parcels. Instead he just stayed there in the rafters, letting the owls glare at him. He had no idea what their problem was but it probably had something to do with the fact that he was currently in the form of a cat and a particularly huge one at that. Anyone would be intimidated, let alone the bloody owls. Even Nachash, who was usually quite argumentative around him, kept her distance when he was a tiger. He always seemed to be in a foul mood when he was just lying somewhere. He had been by the lake but a couple of curious First Years had tried to pet him. He didn’t care if he was on cloud nine and running around with a shit eating grin on his face, he was not going to let little first years pet him. He might have been a cat and yes he did occasionally purr but he wasn’t one for cuddle sessions with the eleven year olds. He could only just tolerate them when he was human so he wasn’t going to even consider bonding with them as a cat.

Eli heard the door of the Owlery open and he cast a wry eye over to the door. He heard a faint hiss and turned his head again to see Nachash shooing a few owls away so she could settle herself in one of the slots where the owls were supposed to be. Eli narrowed his eyes at the snake before turning his head to the sound of a familiar voice. He looked down and saw Amelia – well, an extremely irate looking Amelia. Either way she was still beautiful but he preferred semi-content Amelia if he was going to have her any way. He didn’t understand why most males found angry women attractive. Plus, when they mentioned it, it just made them even more annoyed. Their logic was definitely flawed but Eli just let them get on with it and let them wonder why the opposite sex went out of their way to ignore them.

The cat jumped down off of the rafters onto the upper level floor and Eli felt his bones break as they moulded back into their mother stance. He cocked his head to the side, letting the bones in his neck click into place before stretching. He’d been sat up on that rafter far too long but he understood now why Nachash had chosen to come back, clearly she’d wanted to watch the show. Eli would just attempt to do a little bit of damage control but he hadn’t spoken to Amelia since around Christmas time... maybe early January. What was the month now? April? Okay, so he hadn’t exactly been the doting courter or whatever the Purebloods called ‘an attempt to actually prove to you that I’m not a prat but you can wait and we’ll date a bit and then you can find out that I’m a prat but you’ll find it charming in some insane way so you just have to like me’. Eli shook his head, that didn’t actually make a lot of sense in his mind either.

He plastered a grin on his face and walked down the steps to the ground floor of the Owlery. He shrugged and pointed to the rafters. “Actually.... it was pretty convenient for me. Maybe not for those who want to use the Owlery but it was peaceful in here.” He walked past her, over to the slot that his parent’s owls were perched in and he smoothed back the ruffled feathers of his mother’s owl. “How are you?” he asked her, taking the box from his mother’s owl. He opened it up, ripping the wrapping paper, and took away some of the sugar paper. He balled it up and threw it up to Nachash who seemed to like sugar paper. Eli was just glad that the stuff wasn’t inside multiple boxes.

Eli did a quick inventory check. His mother had gotten him a new tie and new robes as well as a few luxury items. The robes would be useless and he had already informed her that he neither owned nor wished to own a Slytherin tie any longer. He had a pretty necklace though but she wasn’t too pleased with that piece of information. She did, however, send him some bizarre pieces of jewellery afterwards. They were pretty interesting in his opinion and decided that his mother, although mad, wasn’t as bad as she was originally. She was still a crazy psycho but he wouldn’t have her any other way. Not when she was supplying him with some of the things that Majere seemed to hate him for. Such as smoking before a game of Quidditch. He’d been kind, he’d offered Julia one but clearly Majere had missed that.

Eli untied the second box from his father and the two owls flew off. It seemed that Victor preferred some of the more manly items such as a new broom, colognes and suits which was pretty weird. But he too had gone for the good stuff and supplied Eli with much of the same ‘luxury’ items that his mother had with the added extra of paint and sketch books as well as a set of Bulgaria’s finest pieces of charcoal. That wasn’t a lie either; it was really on the box. Eli couldn’t wait to get drawing. He put the lid back on the box and looked back at Amelia. “Mia... I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you in a while. I’ve been... busy. I know it’s a poor excuse but I really have been. I don’t want you to hold that against me though. Maybe we could try and start over or you could hit me with that box or something. I don’t know. Whatever you want to do I suppose.”

Although she knew there was no chance of Elijah causing her body harm, Amelia still stepped away when he jumped down from the rafters. It wasn’t that she thought he would miss his intended landing space, but rather that she remembered the clouded nature of her thoughts when he came too close to her. Amelia was still kicking herself for the last time she had let him get close to her; she wasn’t all that keen on letting him get close enough to use his powers of persuasion on her. Her thoughts were clearer and more attuned to her more rational intentions when she kept her distance.

As he morphed back to his human self, though, Amelia was given a full reminder of why she needed to stay so far away from him. Elijah was, just as she remembered, dangerously attractive. He had the easy kind of confidence that allowed him to get away with tousled hair and slightly askew clothing; it actually added to her intrigue. He was tall and strong and the grin which appeared on his angular facial features was the same one that had dwelled in the forefront of her mind those months ago, try as she might to ignore it.

It was that grin which held her in place as Elijah walked down to the level on which she stood, his easy gait the antithesis of the strain which held her muscles in place, nervous as she was to be around him again. The muscles in her legs and torso were tightened, hoping to keep any lingering butterflies in her stomach locked firmly in their cages. She had been coerced by those impish insects once before, but she was determined this time to let her brain conquer her body, rather than the other way around like last time. Elijah posed a serious threat to that intention, but Amelia was stubborn.

His comment was nearly lost on Amelia, who was so focused on behaving as though she was not pleased to see him – and at least mentally, rationally, she wasn’t – but as he walked past her that focus was broken as the smell of his cologne and the dusty smell of charcoal that she only recognized because of her brief encounter with it while in Elijah’s makeshift studio in the Room of Requirement. Amelia would never use charcoal herself – she had no reason to, and it was far too dirty for her liking – and she had never seen anyone else employ it, so this was a smell she associated exclusively with Elijah. The combination of scents threatened to weaken her defenses, but she steeled herself against it, closing her eyes to maintain concentration so as not to slip up in his presence.

Just send the package and get back to the routine, her mind encouraged, her eyes open once again as Elijah inquired as to her wellbeing. This question really had no right answer, which resulted in Amelia’s hesitation to respond, but she managed to form something mildly coherent and succinct after a few seconds of thought.

“I am busy,” Amelia replied briefly, her cold tone a reminder of the distance that now existed between them. If these last months had not passed as they did, her reply may have been different, but there was no changing the past. Things were the way they were, and that so rarely changed that Amelia had come to expect the stability of routine.

As Elijah busied himself with something behind her, Amelia leaned down to seal the package she had brought up, quick work with a wand. Elijah’s motions behind her were of interest to Amelia, but showing that interest might give Elijah the permission he needed to infiltrate her defenses once more, so Amelia ignored it and busied herself with her task of returning her mother’s idea of appropriate attire. She lifted her head to the rafters and whistled a seven-note melody which brought Aurora drifting down to her arm, the owl’s eyes still resting skeptically on Elijah, though he no longer posed the same threat now that he was not feline.

Amelia stroked the feathers of her pet, feeding Aurora a treat she had brought. She was just about to search for another owl whose help she could employ to carry the heavy package when Elijah spoke again, this time far less familiar than he had been initially. His apologetic tone was the only thing which persuaded Amelia to turn around to face him, though she maintained her distance in the interest of maintaining her train of thought.

With the number of people offering to let me hit them, one of these times I am actually going to take them up on it, Amelia thought to herself, wondering why boys always thought that violence would be sufficient enough to get past any problem that might come up.

But Amelia had no desire to hit Elijah; it wasn’t that kind of anger. She wasn’t angry at him, but rather disappointed. She had known upon meeting him that depending on other people rarely led down any road but disappointment, and fully believed it, but he had made her dare to think differently. It was her mistake. It was easier, though, to manifest this disappointment as anger, because it was not such a revealing emotion. Anger was predictable, acceptable; disappointment would convey to Elijah the meaning he had had to Amelia, to her sense of happiness, and that she could not allow.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Amelia said with a shrug that suggested she was non-chalant about the whole thing, though that couldn’t be further from the truth. Although she had taken on that stance, it was just one of many defenses she had built around herself, “There is nothing to excuse. You were busy, and so was I. You don’t need to ask my forgiveness, because there has been no affront.”

“We went our separate ways, and neither of us is any the worse for it,” Amelia lied. Her response was icy, distant. It was a sad recognition, that this is the way things were with Elijah, the person she had believed would be different, but this is what came from foolish beliefs. There was a part of her that knew what she was saying was untrue, was screaming to be heard, but was silenced by her overwhelming need to take a rational and cold-cut approach to this situation. It simply hurt less.

Elijah sighed and began to look through the box in more detail. He was eager to know what his mother had specifically gifted him with. He pushed the robes away and threw the tie out of the window. He watched the green and silver material flutter down over the grounds and smiled to himself before looking back to the box. He lifted an expensive bottle of cologne out of the box and unscrewed the glass cap. He put the top of it to his nose and inhaled the sweet scent. He put the cap back on and took a leather bound book from inside. He uncoiled the leather strap from the cog on the front and opened it up. The pages were lined and left plenty of room for him to lay his thoughts down and speak about anything and everything. He closed it and put it with the bottle of cologne.

He would have been a liar if he had said he hadn’t missed Amelia. They’d both been busy with other things but he felt awful for just abandoning her like he had done. He was going to try and make it up to her somehow though. He wasn’t sure yet but he was going to figure it out before she left the Owlery. He wanted so badly to make it up to her but it wasn’t just the guilt from leaving her. He missed her companionship more than anything although he wasn’t quite ready to tell her that just yet. Elijah swallowed and took a new Bulgarian wand out from a studded holster. He smiled. The woman thought of everything.

He could hear the ice in her words. There was no malice but she wasn’t pleased with him. He wasn’t happy with himself either if he was honest. He was disappointed for a number of reasons. He wanted to at least date her for a little while before she figured out he was an idiot. He bit his lip and put the lid back on the box. He shrunk the two boxes and put them in the back pocket of his jeans. He walked over to Amelia and gestured to the box. “Do you need a hand?” he asked.

Suddenly, the idea came to him. Perhaps not like lightening but pretty close. He looked at Amelia before glancing up at Nachash who merely hissed at him. “Would you perhaps want to go somewhere for dinner?” he asked. “There’s this great place in London that’s just opened. Maybe we could go there.” He shrugged. “I dunno, you don’t have to I just thought it would be nice. We could catch up.”

(Short and sweet)

((Love the new signature!))

Amelia had nearly ceased to breathe, so difficult was it for her to focus on silencing the part of herself that still wanted to believe in Elijah. It was curious that she could have gone so long without letting someone in, but as soon as she had, it was so difficult to block him out again. It was like a house on a windy day: the doors stay closed as long as you let them serve their purpose, but when you open them just a crack pushing them closed again becomes a Herculean task.

Elijah was slow to respond to her, though she couldn’t blame him. If the tides had been turned, Amelia would have had an equally difficult time coming up with something to say to the ice daggers she had just shot in his direction. Of course, Amelia had a harder time than Elijah did thinking of something to say in just about every situation; he was always smoother, more confident than she was. It was what made him so attractive and charming, impossible to ignore though she did her best to disguise her interest. It was the reason for the metaphorical armor and the physical distance she always maintained around him: there were only so many defenses that worked against his particular brand of weapon.

What is he doing now? Amelia wondered as Elijah made use of the lull in speech to return his attention back to his package. Amelia watched as he disposed of what looked like a green necktie and cringed at the sight of the cologne. As she had known he would, he unscrewed the cap. Amelia watched with her breath stubbornly held to avoid taking in his scent, though his nose was directly above the small container, taking in what she knew to be a sweet, intoxicating smell. Even without the actual sensory input, Amelia knew what that smell would be and she experienced through the memory of it. It was enough to make her feel faint.

Get a grip! Pull yourself together! Amelia’s better – though this was debatable – half commanded, trying to pull her out of the oxygen-deprived/Elijah intoxicated coma that she was falling into. She was just beginning to reawaked herself and remind herself to act non-chalant when Elijah’s teeth pressed down on his bottom lip, a gesture that he probably didn’t even realize that he was doing, but which sent Amelia’s teenage heart racing. Elijah was the only person she had ever dared to pursue for anything more than a sidelong glance. It should have come as no surprise that it was difficult to quash the feelings of attraction once they had been set free.

When Elijah approached, she was still struggling to regain control of herself, and thus it took her a few seconds too long to respond to his offer of assistance. When she finally did manage to process what he had said, her response was a bit too hasty, showing the nerves she had been trying to hide, though she tried to cover it with her usual chill, hoping Elijah would be as oblivious to that slip up as he had been to her existence for the last few months.

“No, I’ve got it,” Amelia said, jerking the box away from Elijah and accidentally jostling Aurora off her arm, who hooted defiantly before returning to Amelia’s shoulder. Embarrassed slightly by the breach of her seemingly-calm disguise, Amelia avoided Elijah’s eyes, instead looking to the rafters and coaxing one of the school owls down with a few notes of melody. This owl landed on the box, which Amelia proceeded to close up with a sealing charm before levitating the package to the window. From there, Aurora and the unnamed owl took over, each carrying half of the heavy bane of the package that was destined for Amelia’s mother, who would be altogether displeased to be receiving it.

When the package and her pet had disappeared among the low clouds, Amelia had no further reason to be looking out the window, and nothing much else to divert her attention in the room aside from the one thing – or rather, person – who was best at diverting it. Begrudging the speed of Aurora for it was forcing her to face Elijah so soon, Amelia turned around to face the dark-haired boy, whose hair hung loosely around his straight jawline, just slightly stubbly from a day without shaving.

Amelia was about to dismiss herself, but before she could get the words out, Elijah interrupted, as he had always been so good at doing. His offer threw Amelia off kilter for a moment, so much so that her words fell short, instead turning into a stutter of nothingness. Immediately thinking this was some sort of covert ploy, Amelia crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow in Elijah’s direction as he continued to speak.

He has gone without speaking to you for two entire months, and now he wants to catch up? Amelia’s mind demanded, trying to keep any thoughts of backing down safely controlled in the back of her mind, though how successful that would be would depend on how long Amelia stood this near to Elijah. Damn whoever designed the owlery for making it large enough for a Siberian Tiger, but not large enough that she could stand far enough away from Elijah Krum to maintain level-headed thought.

“Why now, Elijah? Why after all this time?” Amelia questioned, her voice sounding slightly exasperated. She hadn’t been able to settle on a definite answer to his question, so she had countered it with one of her own. While every rational part of her demanded that she decline, that annoying bit that still wanted Elijah in her life – despite his potential to cause her harm – just wouldn’t allow it to be so cut and dry. Amelia had almost forgotten how difficult the Slytherin boy had made decision making, but this was a more than satisfactory reminder.

“You were more than happy to enjoy your solitude for these past few months – though I doubt very much that you were alone for much if any of it,” Amelia added scathingly, not exactly oblivious to the fact that Elijah’s charm was not exclusively used on her. She may not be part of the social circles, but she wasn’t deaf either. The boy never had to work all that hard for company, especially of the female variety.

Please defend yourself, Elijah. Say something to change my mind. Make excuses, make amends, make good. You can get through. You're the only one.

Oh shut up.

And thus the internal debate, as ever, continued.