Coral

Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met
It's a big enough umbrella
But it's always me that ends up getting wet
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day
And ask her if she'll marry me in some old fashioned way
But my silent fears have gripped me
Long before I reach the phone
Long before my tongue has tripped me
Must I always be alone?
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on--


--The Nursery--

Reincarnation soon became a favorite topic of debate over the chessboard, where she had yet to satisfy herself with a single victory. It wasn't, she defended herself, that she didn't know how to play strategically, but that she was constantly having to leave the game in a hurry.

Much to her chagrin, she could no longer tolerate certain smells. The most intensely repulsive were those of coffee, ham, any flower except gardenia,(which she craved) , and fruit. Strangely, whereas an apple might send her gagging from the room, Crisp had no effect on her, despite the fact that he smelled of wet ashes and droppings.

Even so, she had developed, prematurely according to Winter, the undeniable urge to clean the house thoroughly. At first it was merely the dusting of the occasional tables, and the sweeping of the kitchen floor. Soon it developed into such a fierce, and overwhelming need to scour every surface, that if the house could have cringed it would have. If it could have pleaded for mercy, it would have.

A few days after purchasing the owl, she had decided it was soon enough to begin converting one of the small bedrooms into a nursery. For this task she invited Winter, and therefore, Stella and Eloise came as well. Even Demogene came for a short while,to coo over the bassinet, and sniffle when she saw the basketful of blankets and diapers that Amanda had been collecting.

Amanda did not particularly like this bedroom, but it was the nearest, and the smallest. It maintained an air of extreme haughtiness about itself that she could not eradicate, even after she had stripped down the drapes, and had the small brass bed banished to the attic.

When Stella commented off-hand that it did not seem too long since someone had occupied this room, Amanda began noticing that it did, indeed still have very fresh feel about it. The carpets were heavy and had been brushed, the bed linens were without dust--the corners without cobwebs.

Winter eyed it from every corner, measuring the angles against the length of her wand. She rolled up her sleeves, and took off her dainty shoes.

" It would be simpler, were we to know the gender..." she said at last.

Amanda, searching through the drawers of the lone bureau, only shrugged.

" I think a yellow? No...cream. " she gave a few grand waves, flamboyantly exaggerating the swish and flick required to activate the spells.

One by one, the walls became cream--the color beginning at the top, and silkily washing down the wall in the fashion of an Austrian valance being let down after an opera. When it reached the top of the wainscoting, it stopped of it's own accord, perfectly trimmed.

" How do you like that?" she asked.

They all regarded it for a few moments, and eventually agreed that it was very nice.
" What color should the curtains be?" Eloise asked.

" White, I suppose. I guess pale green would be appropriate?" Amanda suggested.

Winter did the nearest thing to rolling her eyes.

" This is the Wizarding world! Anything is appropriate! Reds and blues, purple, orange, acid green. What about magenta?"

" What if it's a boy?"

" Magenta with dancing green and yellow dragons?"

" I--"

" Or I know! Blue with glowing moons?"

" Brown with trees." Stella suggested.

" Blue...with stars would be nice. " Amanda said.

" Stars! Now you are understanding!" she took a set of simple white curtains from her bag, and used her wand to size them and hang them on the window. Then she altered the style and color, added several winking silver stars, and a few small magenta ones. She added a valance.

The carpets were soon silver, and the bassinet cover charmed to match the curtains. Overhead, the ceiling became dark, midnight blue, and pinprick size stars appeared. At specific intervals, a shooting star would course across and vanish in the shadows of a corner.

Eloise had helped with the ceiling, placing stars at what she considered to be important intervals.

Amanda watched in awe as the room took form. It was soothing and mysterious when finished, and she complimented Winter thoroughly for her work. Winter accepted with grace, but she looked pleased with herself as well.

Though it was fun, Amanda found herself looking forward to being alone, as she had discovered, inside the bureau, several letters that had fallen out and wedged themselves behind the drawers. She had meant to pull them put and throw them away, but she saw in the top of one, Dinah's name.

Burning with curiosity, it was all she could do to pay attention on the decorating. However, she had been taken in by the beauty of Winter's work, and after they had finished, they had gone down for refreshments, and she had nearly forgotten the letters. Espeically when, halfway through her swallowing her drink, Stella had stood, waving her arms.

" Oh! I almost forgot!" she said after nearly choking on the tea. " The doll! For the nursery! And after we spent so long looking for her! Where is she?"

" Oh, I set her in the library, she was so beautiful!" she started to rise.

" Don't get up. Demogene can go." Eloise said, gesturing to the the other woman who was seated nearest the library door. " Would you be so kind?"

Demogene set her cup daintily to the side, and slipped from the high stool she had been perched on, her feet, clad in blocky shoes swinging childishly.


" Don't mind me..." she said, dramatically." I have nothing better to do than to run errands."

But at the same time she gave them a cheeky smile.

" I could have gone." Amanda said after her cousin had left.

" So could I have. It won't hurt fro her to do us a small favor. She's been awfully broody since Agnes left, poor girl. You would think she would relish the freedom."

" She is her sister though." Amanda corrected. " She would miss her."

" Spoken like an only child." Winter quipped.

Eloise grinned, but only said; " What is taking her so long? DEMOGENE!"

Demogene appeared in the doorway, clutching Persephone carefully in her bony arms. She looked as though she had just had a near brush with a Dementor.

" What is it Demogene?" Winter asked.

Demogene's mouth opened and closed a time or two before she composed herself somewhat.

" I...thought she was lost." she caressed the doll's hair." Agnes told me she was lost! She must have told me that ot be..mean. She knew she was my favorite!"

Amanda thought she heard her whisper beneath her breath, somehting that sounded like;

" My only friend."

And felt a surge of overwhelming compassion for the older woman.

" We found her by accident." she said. " You can take her back with you if you
like. "

" No that's silly!" Eloise started to argue.

" No it isn't!" Amanda insisted. " I can get a doll anywhere, it doesn't have to be that one."

Demogene looked at her for the first time with something akin to respect, then smiled, and held the doll out.

" I am being sentimental." she said. " It was your mother's doll, it should by right go to you and your children. Here, take her gently." she passed the doll carefully into Amanda's arms.

Amanda cradled it a moment, before passing it to Stella, who took it upstairs, and palced it in a small child size rocking chair.

Once they had gone, it was nearly time for Edward to come home. Amanda left Polly in charge of the evening meal, and rushed upstairs. It took some time to pry the papers from the drawer runners. They had been there for quite some time, and through humidity and pressure had somewhat adhered to the wood.

" Come on..." she urged, trying not to tear the paper. At last they came free, and she eased them out. Spreading them out on top, she counted five letters, and a few scribbled notes. They had been at one time secured with a simple Muggle rubber band, but it had long ago fallen apart.

Hoping to learn something about her predecessor, she opened the first. It was a draft of a letter, with much crossing out, to someone initialed ' V.' Judging by the level of unabashed intimacy, Amanda deduced that the V did not stand for Vincente, Dinah's father. All the letter contained was repetitive descriptions of her boredom; and how much she missed the balls where the mysterious V would remind her of how a woman should feel.

Two of the letters were from V, who did not sign his name, sympathizing with her, flattering her, and begging her to come back to London, and he could dance her at the next cotillion ball.

The next two letters were from Rebecca, to her sister...and Amanda was quite literally shocked to read them. To be girls of superior breeding, they were both of them shallow and vain; but Rebecca was downright nasty.

Not only was she vindictive and cruel, but her language was foul, her intentions ghastly, and her conversation boisterous and narcissistic. She was clearly a woman who loved only herself, and therefore, wrote about herself.

Amanda learned little about Dinah, but that she had been bored and unhappy in her marriage, and mourned the leisure of her unfettered youth. She complained of household duties, berating her husband for not having house-elves, and then, in terms that made Amanda color, complained of her wifely duties, as well. On that issue she was firmly convinced that she was being unfairly handled.

Rebecca however, was soon illustrated in Amanda's mind as the most vile of creatures. In her two lengthy letters, (she was apparently answering letters from Dinah,), she advised her sister towards adultery, saying it was no less than Edward deserved--and not just Edward. Any husband. Rebecca illuminated these texts with vivid details of her own amorous adventures.

In the first letter, she claimed she would like to hex a certain Annie Grimble.

" I wish there was a hex that would slowly chop her into pieces, beginning at her toes I want her to bleed to death slowly, while feeling the most indescribable pain. If I could rip off her breasts, that might be good. I would like to rip out her private parts and her force her to eat them. I would gladly pour salt water in the gaping hole, and stomp on her fingers while she writhed. "

Amanda gagged a little, but with horrified fascination, continued to read.

" That is how much I just dislike her. If it were real hatred, then you know, Dinah, how far I might go. "

In the second letter, she sympathized with Dinah over her suspected pregnancy, and advised Dinah to simply ' scrape out the bugger'.

" Treat it as you would any other disease. Why in hell would you want something like that? Simply scrape the bugger out,and be done with it. You only get one body, there is no sense in giving it over to a parasite-you'll only lose your looks, your figure, and your sanity. Is that all he thinks you are good for? I still say you would be better without the burden of either."

With that, Amanda threw the letter down in disgust and took up the notes Dinah had scribbled. Some were appointments to hairdressers and robe's-makers. One held neat rows of names. Boys on one side, and girls on the other. Apparently, Dinah had not taken Rebecca's advice.

At the top of the boys list, the name ' Elias' was circled.
Amanda frowned at the notes, then at the room. Had Dinah used this room, or had the bureau simply been moved from someplace else? She reached for the drawers, hoping she might discover some more clues, but was startled by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

Edward was home already! She gathered the letters together, knowing they would not please him, and stuffed them back into the empty drawer. She closed it just as he appeared in the doorway.

" Patsy said I might find you in here. " he said, as he stepped in and looked about.

" The nursery..." she answered, searching his face for signs of approval or disapproval. He kept a perfectly neutral expression as he examined the curtains, the 'sky', and the carpeting.

" Exceptional." he commented at last. " Winter has done well...subtle, but without the dismal pastels of most nurseries."

Amanda blushed as she thought of the dismal pastels she had suggested. It wasn't that she liked dismal pastels, she had simply thought that was what was supposed to go in nurseries.

" I'm glad that you like it. " she admitted.

" Oh, I am not so hard to please." he said lightly. " The stars are a particularly clever touch. Did Eloise assist? "

" Yes. How did you know?"

" She was always the brightest at astronomy. See? There is Cassiopeia, and my favorite, Andromeda."

" Constellations! I had no clue that was what she was doing! Why, that's wonderful. What others are there?"

" I'm afraid I don't recognise too many. As I said, Eloise had the head for Astronomy." he shook the bassinet, frowning slightly at it's unsteadiness.

" That will have to be altered."

" What was this room used for? If I may ask?" she blurted.

He glanced around again, as if not recalling in which room he stood.

" Oh, this was the room Dinah chose as her own, for her brief stay." he said bitingly.

Amanda did not press further, but as they left the room to go down to dinner, she finally realized why the room had bothered her so much. It had felt and smelled like another woman.

After they had eaten, and Amanda sat at the piano, Edward suddenly brought the subject up again.

"It's much better now, you know." he said, interrupting her piece.

" What is?"

" That room. I don't know why, but I've never liked it much."

" I don't like it either. We could move the nursery to the next room. It's further down though." she confessed.

" I think this is the better way. It might...soften it somewhat. I do hate a hard room...don't you?"

She agreed.

" Yes...the only thing worse is boiled eggs." he mused.

Sometimes his philosophies were beyond her immediate comprehension, but she admired him all the more for the uniqueness.

" What did you do with the things that were in there?"

" Sent them to the attic." she answered, half truthfully.

" We'll burn the lot, one day." he said, returning his attention to his book. " Burn the lot and start anew. With new life."

She nodded emphatically in agreement, then began polishing the black keys with her handkerchief. That reminded her that it might have been ages since she dusted the piano legs.

Thinking of that reminded her that the chargers stacked over the top of the china cabinet were possibly dusty as well. When Edward looked up again from his book, it was to discover her perched precariously on the brocade seat of a side chair, dedicatedly polishing the glass door of a towering corner curio.

" What are you doing?" he exclaimed.

She turned, surprised.

" There are spots on the glass." she explained.

He looked appalled, an expression which she easily misinterpreted.

" I know...I should really pay more attention to things like this, but it's so high over my head! I think I can have it clean in a moment, if you would be so kind as to hand me a cloth?"

She continued frown at the glass, tilting her head to check for streaks. She knew that Polly had cleaned it last week, but it still looked filthy. If the glass on the curio was in this condition, what did the bathroom mirrors look like? Was the sink properly shined? How had she not realized that the housekeeping had been so neglected?

She felt, rahter than saw, Edward approach her side, and she held out her hand when he tugged lightly on her skirt, expecting him to lay a cloth in her palm. When he did not, she looked up, or rather down, to see what was the matter. He took her hand and gestured for her to step down.

" What? Before I finish this?" she pointed at the crystal clear glass.

With a slightly exasperated look, he seized her about the hips and lifted her down from the chair. For a moment, he did not let her feet touch the floor.

" You can ask Polly, or myself to do that."

" Polly did clean it, but you can see that it needs more rubbing."

" I see nothing of the sort. "

" I do!" she insisted.

" Then you shall ask Polly, or myself to clean it a second time."

" Magical cleaning doesn't remove the germs." she said.

" Then we will clean it in whatever way satisfies you."

" Well, it has to be rubbed until the streaks are gone..."

" Does it have to be tonight?" he asked, raising a brow.

" I...well, no. It doesn't have to. It's just...there is so much to be done, I have to do it when I remember it." she kicked her feet slightly, attempting to gain ground.

He set her down gently, but did not release her.

" If you do not promise me, right now, that you will be more careful, I will not hesitate to bind you in your boudoir. "

She lowered her eyes coyly.

" I promise." she murmured, too easily.

" You promise...what?" he demanded, admiring her pouting lips.

" To be more careful, of course."

" And what does that entail?"

" Not climbing on chairs." she sighed.

" Indeed, not climbing on anything at all. " he said. " Now, it's nearly midnight, I cannot think why that cabinet won't wait until tomorrow to be tormented. If it leaves in the night, it will only spare you the worry."

He then kissed her, to soften his words, before returning the chair to it's proper place and directing her towards the stairs.

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Every little thing she does is magic-The Police