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The Wizarding World is once again free to move as it will, but those liberated from the barrier are not the only ones taking full advantage of their newfound liberation and mobility. Danger roams free...and hides in plain sight.
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» 12 March 2021 || A Blue Fear Of The Wolf, Tag: Amelie!
Posted: Jul 3 2017, 01:35 PM
As soon as word of another werewolf attack had been given at breakfast at the start of the month, Louis had looked straight over to the green and silver clad house to check Dominique was okay. It was a ridiculous thing; the odds of Dominique being victim of another werewolf attack were slim to none, but he couldn’t help it. His family seemed to have an unfortunate habit of coming into contact with the more violent ones in society, even if the attack on his father had happened long before Louis had been born. But no, Dominique was fine, thankfully. Other members of the student body weren’t, however, and yet another student death had occurred in 2021 with the loss of Sawyer Lawson. The more stringent school rules had been brought back into practice, too, which he had mixed feelings about. While he was all for keeping the students safer, the freedom after the much tighter restrictions before had been nice. They were still allowed to venture to Hogsmeade when they wanted, except now they had to be escorted by older students or teachers, something Louis was less keen on. Especially as he’d been planning on a few trips down to the village with Jem, especially as the weather was getting nicer now.
Things between them were….tentative, but only because neither of them quite knew what they were doing. The last thing he wanted to do, and he was sure Jem was the same, was ruin this by going too fast. But the increased time in each other’s company had recently shifted from Louis wanting to keep Jem occupied after the death of Finley to a genuine feeling of wanting to spend as much time in each other’s company as possible; a honeymoon period of gentle affection. Evenings, however, were a time for separation between them, which was how Louis found himself on his own for some study, which he had no problem with. He had his Muggle Studies notes tidily covering the end of the table he was working at, glancing between the books and his parchment of notes before a movement in his periphery caught his eye.
He was ashamed to admit he hadn’t noticed Amelie’s absence in the common room until he’d overheard that she was one of the victims of the werewolf attack at the end of the previous month. He’d helped her with her work a few times, as he often did with first years that looked like they’d needed it, and had been stunned one day to hear her counting quietly in french. From there they’d built a sort-of friendship, so much so that catching sight of her drifting through the common room sent guilt and worry twisting in his gut. She looked as ghostly as the Grey Lady herself, drifting and quiet and mournful and he would have missed her if not for catching her movement. He made his mind up in an instant and abandoned his textbooks, making a slow beeline for her instead.
He barely knew what to say, but knew he had to say something. When he’d first heard her speak french it was with a cadence revealing someone very well versed in the language; either it was her first language or she was second-generation, like him. Back then, as soon as he’d gotten a proper look at her, he’d chalked it up to the former. He didn’t want to try and grab her to stop her, so instead he fell into a soft step with her, trying not to impose. Merlin, she was so small and fragile looking - he just wanted to give her a hug and tell her it would all be okay. Before, speaking in French seemed easier for her, and he wondered if it would bring her some form of comfort, away from her brother. “...Bonjour, Amelie.”
@Jaz (let me know if anything needs tweaking!) (Mentions of Jem @Froggy )
Posted: Jul 5 2017, 07:38 PM
Amélie had planned to go to her classes that day. It had been long enough—she needed to go back. Her life had long since lost all direction, all purpose, and hopefully, her usual academic pursuits would bring that back. As it happened, however, she wouldn't find out today. She had spent the morning trying to talk herself into going down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and when that failed, she tried to talk herself into going to her first class of the day: potions. But to no avail. And so, she had spent a great many hours in the dormitory, and the rest in the common room, hiding somewhere—usually under a table, under the stairs, or in the alcove with the books. She didn't come out into the open at all, but this was still something. Just a few days ago, she had been in her dorm, completely faded from reality, but she was in the common room. And just a few days ago, she had left the common room altogether—even if only for a few minutes. She had made progress. Very little progress, but still progress nonetheless. What was the old adage her mother loved? Baby steps? Maybe it applied now.
That evening, when the sun started to set and the moon took its place, Amélie was still in the common room, having wedged herself under the stairs. As light from the crescent moon started to filter in through the windows, she felt fear coursing through her veins. She had thought she was over that, especially since the moon wasn't anywhere close to full. But she sat under the stairs, as far back as she could fit, shivering with a cold sort of dread. She felt helpless to move, to do anything, as if the wolf was waiting for her to emerge. She felt frozen, like a statue. She rubbed her arms, hoping to warm herself up and soothe herself, but that effort proved to be in vain as well. She looked around, hoping for some form of reprieve. It was always in the evenings that every baby step she had taken during the day seemed to disappear. Fear erased everything good she had and left her shivering and alone, helpless. She didn't know what to do. Of all the things the wolf had taken from her—her youth, her childlike innocence, she missed her sense of certainty the most.
She hazarded another glance around the common room before her eyes fell on the fireplace. There. She hadn't known what she was looking for, but she had found it. The flames had recently become a far greater comfort than she could've expected them to be. She had always held a mild fondness for fire—provided, of course, that the fire was controlled; that was a given—but now it had become just as much of a comfort to her as the sun or her hiding places or even her brother's presence. She made up her mind and, before fear could convince her otherwise, she stood up, emerging slowly from the space underneath the stairs. Slowly, she started to cross the room towards the fireplace, heading for the space between it and the wall. It was then that one of her housemates—Louis Weasley—fell in step with her. He was the only other person in their house, save for Félix, who could speak French. She greeted him with a weak smile. Apart from her brother, he was the only one who could speak to her in her native tongue—something that brought her comfort, familiarity. "Salut, Louis," She said, "J'espère que vous êtes bien?"
(Hi, Louis. I trust you are well?)
@Pepper ((Sorry it's kinda short))
Posted: Jul 16 2017, 01:52 AM
Even in the face of her small smile, Louis could see the obvious signs that Amélie was not okay. Especially now, at this proximity. He didn’t want to scrutinize her; she most likely got that a lot at the moment anyway, considering. That meant, however, that the fact that she had offered him any kind of smile was a good thing. He doubted she actually felt much like smiling at all, but there she was, trying for friendliness at the very least. He couldn’t help but smile softly in return, not so much touched by even that tiny moment of bravery as he was pleasantly surprised. He didn’t want to slow her pace or change their direction, considering she had been clearly aiming for the fireplace, so he walked with her over to it. It was most likely another source of comfort for her; something warm and inviting and nobody would judge you for staring at it for hours on end.
“Oui, je suis bien, merci.” He wasn’t the one that had recently been attacked by a werewolf, after all. He felt it stupid to ask if she was alright when she clearly wasn’t great, and he couldn’t blame her for it. “Il est bon de vous voir à l'extérieur du dortoir.” He paused then, wondering whether or not to offer her the option of speaking to Dominique if it made her feel better, as a fellow survivor of a werewolf attack and a French speaker. He filed the idea away however; he should clear it with Dominique first. He knew his sister had a lot of well-deserved feelings about the whole ordeal, and he didn’t want to make either her or Amelie worse by having them talk. No, he’d clear it with Dominique first.
He didn’t want her to think he was just making idle chit chat for the sake of it, however. He was genuinely worried about her, and wanted to help as much as he could. “S'il y a quelque chose que je puisse faire pour vous aider, vous pouvez me le dire, d'accord?” At the very least, maybe he could be someone other than her brother for her to speak to; a reminder that she had plenty of people around that cared.
(Yes, I’m good, thanks.) (It’s good to see you outside of the dormitory.) (If there's anything I can do to help you, you can tell me, okay?)
@Jaz (And now I'm the one apologising for shortness!)
Posted: Jul 17 2017, 12:58 PM
Amélie's tiny, courteous smile had faded. It was hard for her to keep a brave face on when the world around her seemed to be crumbling on top of her. She tried, but that could only get her so far. Still, for her friends, she had to try. She couldn't live with herself if she let her own despair seep into them. She could deal with it on her own, and even if she couldn't, she wasn't going to let them hurt themselves for her sake. She'd already let someone get hurt for her sake. She'd already let someone get hurt and someone else die because she was too much of a coward to stand up and fight for herself. Because she was too much of a coward to run away. She couldn't forgive herself for that. She could've gotten, but she didn't. Why didn't she? Had she been so frozen with terror? She couldn't forget that night, but her memory of it was hopelessly disjointed. She remembered in random flashes. One fleeting sound or sensation was all it took; she would see the wolf pinning her to the ground, feel its claws in her skin. She could hear the same screaming she had heard that night. Keeping her chin up was nearly impossible.
Even so, the smile returned to her face at Louis's sentiment. "Oui, merci," she said. It felt good to be out of the dormitory. It felt good to have some fresh air. The common room was safe. The common room was familiar. She knew the common room like the back of her hand. Still, the fact that she had made it out of the dormitory didn't change the fact that she hadn't made it out of the common room, especially when she had already missed nearly two weeks of her classes. She didn't think she could afford to continue this way, but she didn't know if she could push herself out of the common room long enough. "J'avais espéré aller en classe aujourd'hui, mais..." She sighed, looking at her feet. "Cela n'a pas eu lieu." The statement was simple, no beating around the bush or excuses. She made no excuses for her failures; that was important to her. She had been taught to take responsibility for everything she did or failed to do—never let someone else take the fall for her mistakes. And she'd already failed that once. She couldn't do it again.
Louis reminded her of her brother. Félix had always been protective of her, but she'd never seen him cry for her before she'd been attacked. She'd never seen him cry at all before then. To sit in her dormitory, staring blankly out the window and barely registering the sound of him sobbing had been all she could do. It was unnerving, disorienting. It was...wrong...the sound reached her mind and immediately was rejected. It couldn't be real. Her brother didn't cry, so if he was, that meant the world had completely turned on its head. Amélie didn't know how to deal with that. Her world had imploded; that much she knew. Had Félix's done the same? Had Elise's and Jacques's? Had their worlds caved in while she was buried in the rubble of her own? With a twist in her stomach, she wished she'd been a better sister. She wished she'd tried to return even half of what they'd done for her—the hoops they'd jumped through for her sake. She wished she hadn't been so selfish as to not even consider that they might be having a hard time with this as well. She mentally berated herself for her shortcomings. She was everything she tried not to be.
The kindness Louis extended to her wasn't foreign. He was as much of a friend to her as Ame, and as much of a brother as Félix, even if not by blood. He'd helped her study. He'd talked with her in her native tongue when English proved to overwhelm her. He had always been kind to her, even in times like this, when she wasn't kind to herself. "Merci," She said with a bow of her head. "Je..." She sighed. She didn't know if she could ask for help. She didn't know if she could admit that she needed help at all, that she couldn't do this by herself. She was drowning and unable to call for the help she needed. It was easy enough to ask for help with homework. That had a tangible, concrete answer, a solution. This didn't. This only had subjective answers—suggestions based on what another would do in her shoes. "Je vais bien," she said, though the statement came out with a distinctive lack of confidence. She didn't know if she was really okay. As a matter of fact, she didn't really think she was. But she didn't know how to express that.
(It is, thank you) (I had hoped to go to class today, but...) (That didn't happen) (Thank you) (I...) (I'm alright)
Posted: Aug 7 2017, 01:15 PM
Louis watched carefully as Amélie's delicate smile faded. It had been a slight, wan thing to begin with, not too dissimilar to the girl’s general demeanour at the moment anyway, but it was enough to make his heart twist with sadness when it vanished. It returned again fairly quickly, but he wondered how much that was her putting on a brave face while talking to him rather than actually being any semblance of happy or relaxed. He didn’t blame her after such a horrible thing had happened, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her she didn’t have to smile in front of him. Maybe it was just as much a front for herself as it was supposed to be for him. He knew he’d certainly try to hide behind a positive facade if he’d been through what she had.
When she quietly said that she hadn’t been to class, Louis flashed her a slightly sympathetic but kind smile. “Je suis sûr que les professeurs comprennent.” He said gently, trying to ease whatever form of guilt it was that was seeping out of her. “Je suis toujours là si vous avez besoin d'aide pour le travail en classe.” It would be a shame for her sake if she fell so far behind, and Louis imagined her brother couldn’t do it all on his own. He himself wasn’t a stranger to helping her with her work, even in French as and when her native tongue soothed her, as it was hopefully doing now.
He watched her as she told him she was alright. It was hesitant and unsure, although he couldn’t tell if that was because she couldn’t tell if she was alright, or if she wasn’t sure about telling him otherwise. He could understand that, too. After all, as much as they’d formed some kind of friendship, he wasn’t her brother. He was just a friend. Still, his next words came unbidden to him. “Ma soeur, Dominique.” Damn. He hadn’t meant to mention her, but his desire to help Amélie, maybe give her someone to talk to who had been through something similar, won out. “Elle est à Slytherin. L'attaque contre Halloween ... elle était l'une des blessées. Si cela aiderait, je pourrais vous demander si elle viendrait vous parler. Elle est gentille, je le promets.” He offered a small smile at the end, trying to see if he could cajole a proper one out of the younger girl. “Elle parle français aussi. Mieux que moi, si vous me le demandez.””
(I’m sure the professors understand.) (I’m always here if you need help with classwork.) (My sister, Dominique.) (She's in Slytherin. The attack on Halloween ... she was one of the injured. If it would help you, I could ask if she would come and talk to you. She's nice, I promise.) (She speaks French, too. Better than me, if you ask me.)
Posted: Aug 23 2017, 07:18 PM
"Merci." Amélie gave the boy a small nod and a grateful half-smile. "Mon frère leur a écrit au début du mois," she said. She had known that fact before. Félix himself had told her. But somehow, saying it aloud made it feel more real, more tangible. If it had been nothing more than a simple concept before, it was a cold, cement reality now. Life itself tended to be that way for her. Saying things she knew made them real and, in turn, grounded her. That was what she needed right then. She needed something to be real—irrefutably so. She needed to believe in something. She didn't have that right then. The world was a scary place; she realized that. She didn't know who or what she could trust when she had once trusted everything. Her mind blurred the lines between reality and her imagination, leaving her cowering in fear because she had seen a shadow and mistook it for a wolf. This was the life she had now. Maybe it was the life she had always had. The lines between the real world and imagination had always been blurred in the best possible way for her, at least, that was true of her past.
Louis mentioned a sister. Amélie only vaguely recognized the name. Félix had classes with her, and he mentioned her every now and again. He seemed to hold her in high regard. Everything he said about her was positive. If Félix liked her, she must've been a good person. Amélie looked up to her eldest brother as though he himself was the moon. (Not the sun, for that was foolish to look at. But the moon was meant to be admired.) This was no secret. Everyone who knew her or him knew the bond that ran between them. She trusted her brother more than anyone else, even her best friend. If he said Dominique was a good person, she must've been a good person. "Dominique. Félix parle d'elle de temps en temps," she said, "Vous devriez savoir qu'il l'apprécie très bien." The faint smile on her face widened just slightly, hardly enough to be noticed, but still present. That phrase itself seemed to describe her as a whole: small, a wisp of smoke in the trees, often going unnoticed, but still very much there. She was comfortable with this sort of existence, one where she was a leaf floating down a stream, rather than a tree obstructing the waters.
Amélie remembered hearing about the attack on Hogsmeade; it had been so long ago. She had attended the masquerade and walked back to the castle with the rest of the students, accompanied by both of her brothers and her sister. She remembered the fear that had chilled her to the bone upon hearing what had happened to two of their fellow students. She remembered looking up and seeing the expression of shock and fear cross Félix's face at the mention of Dominique. Louis's words were not foreign to her, being both familiar in concept and in tongue. The next part, however, was a little bit trickier. He offered to have them talk to each other. Amélie didn't know what she thought of the idea. She would've very much liked to talk to her, but she didn't want to place the burden of arranging such a meeting on the boy she had come to consider a close friend. "Merci, mais je ne pourrais pas vous le demander." She said, training her eyes towards the floor sheepishly. "J'aimerais la rencontrer un jour, mais je ne veux pas que tu t'inquiètes, toi même."
(Thanks) (My brother wrote to them at the beginning of the month) (Dominique. Félix speaks of her from time to time.) (You should know he holds her in high regard) (Thank you, but I couldn't ask that of you.) (I would like to mee ther one day, but I don't want you to worry about that, yourself.)
@Pepper ((@Jess for heavy Dominique mentions))
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