Coral

My life goes on in endless song
above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear it's music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?


--Nightmares--


There was a dark brown flower, almost a rose, floating in a what might have been space, or might have been a universe filled with black water. Bubbles floated where stars should have been, caressing softly against the petals. Occasionally they would cling to the flower, swaying for awhile before letting go and sailing away.

It was very restful to watch. The bubbles created enough motion to gently rock the flower.

More bubbles floated from the endless nowhere below. Then more, and more...suddenly they became faster.Faster and faster. Until soon they came at such a speed that they tore at the petals.

The rose was tossed, and turned, it's edges quickly growing ragged and bruised. Though there was nothing obvious anchoring it in place, it did not float away. or fall. It remained stationary, struggling against the force of the rushing bubbles.
One by one, the petals were ripped away and battered into small squeezed fragments that floated loose into the black void. Calyx, peduncle; all that remained of a beautiful flower.

These began to weep. Then bleed. The water became murky, then dark, then completely black. Suddenly, she was swimming in that blackness, surrounded by the coppery taste of blood, and the rotten smell of putrefying flowers. Desperate for something to hold onto, she groped frantically in the darkness, and eventually her hand closed around the flower stem. Razor sharp thorns tore into her palm, and she let go. No longer floating, she fell. The air grew cold, her hands ached, and she felt a sudden fear. She was going to die!

***

The light from the window was excruciatingly bright when she wrenched her eyes open, causing tears to form. She blinked them away, trying to focus on the clock face. It was only eight o'clock.

" Just a dream." she said.

Her hair was damp, and when she placed a hand on her chest, she could fee her heart beating frantically. Why had it scared her that badly? It was just falling...people fall all the time in dreams.

She went into the bathroom on shaky legs, and ran a bathtub full of warm water with shaky hands. Polly had thoughtfully charmed all of the shampoo and soap to have no fragrance; lately, the smell of anything floral or fruity made her head spin.

Even in the lukewarm water, with only the clean non-smell of soap, and the pure clean white light around her, Amanda still could not forget the dream. She could still taste the murky, blood tinged water. Even after she cleaned her teeth.

I hope I don't have any more of those! she thought languidly, as her hands automatically went to her lower belly. Always slightly rounded but soft, there was now the unmistakable firmness of new life forming just behind her skin. Two weeks before she had first felt tiny flutters of movement. Since then, there had been many light rippling sensations. None had been strong enough for anyone else to truly feel.

''Good morning, my baby.''

She wanted to name it Olivia, if it were a girl, and of course the masculine form if it were a boy. However, she had received peculiar looks for her suggestion. Olivia Ollivander, they said, or Oliver, might not be a name that a child would thank her for later.

Stella suggested she wait until after it was born, saying that sometimes a lady craved certain names when she was expecting, but like strange foods, would lose her appetite for them after the birth.

" I almost named you Selma Francine." she informed her. " Can you imagine?"

Amanda could not.

Edward had defended her however, agreeing readily to either name with a wide eyed enthusiasm that made her suspect he was humoring her just a little.

As she dressed in a particularly frilly dress, she sang softly form a Muggle song her father used to sing to her on Church Sundays when she was dressed in crinolines, with flouncy bows on her pastel dresses.


" East is east and west is west
And the wrong one I have chose
Let's go where I'll keep on wearin'
Those frills and flowers and buttons and bows"


She gave a little gasp as the baby suddenly prodded at her quite sharply! Pressing her hand near the place, she waited, but there was nothing more. She began singing again.


" Let's vamoose where gals keep usin'
Those silks and satins and linen that shows
And I'm all yours in buttons and booooowwwws...
Gimme eastern trimmin' where women are women
In high silk hose and peek-a-boo clothes
And French perfume that rocks the room
And I'm all yours in buttons and bows"


Two tiny movements, much more pronounced than the previous flutters.

" I wish I knew if that means you like me singing, or that you don't !" she laughed.

" Ms. Amanda? All right?" Polly asked at the door.

All right? She was wonderful. She told Polly so, and had her feel of the baby kicking, which brought a funny smile to Polly's face.

" Does it hurt?" she asked.

" No...it's just, strange!"

She could hardly wait for her afternoon walk to the village shop. She hurried through all of the little chores she set for herself. Cleaning the extra wands he had brought home the night before, re-organizing the books on the mantle shelf, placing fresh candles in all of the candlesticks. It was also the day for watering all of the house plants, and with the pitcher charmed to be weightless, even this task went by swiftly.

Her last task was to clean Crisp's lair, and to send him with note to Stella. In the three weeks that Crisp had been with them, he had not ceased to be unpleasantly odiferant,and though they had grown relatively accustomed to his sooty flavor, Eloise had been furious the first time he had flown inside and made himself comfortable on her velvet covered divan.

Not even Winter could find a spell or potion to remove the smell, and poor Crisp had even spent one entire night tied to the neck in a sack of bicarbonate of soda, which he had actually seemed to enjoy.

When Amanda went out to clean for him, he was standing on one leg, on the perch, his feathers still helter-skelter. He blinked at her through his spectacles, and attempted something of greeting, which caused him to lose his balance.

While Amanda was using her wand to clean the droppings from the floor, he was frantically flapping his wings, attempting to re-perch himself with as much dignity as possible.

" Now, take this to my mother, and don't stand on Aunt Eloise's furniture this time...she threatened to have you stuffed." Amanda tied the letter to his scrawny leg. He hooted drunkenly as he flew from the small window.

Polly insisted Amanda lay down for her noon rest, and then eat a light lunch, before she could wrap up and set out. She would always remember how beautiful that day was. The sky was sapphire blue, and though the air was cold, the sun was so bright as to warm the soul. She forgot about her nightmare as she picked her way along the rough path, enjoying the feel of the ground beneath her feet, and the wind against her face.

Edward had been watching anxiously for her out of the window, and his face relaxed considerably when she came through the door. He had a customer, so she went into the backroom to warm her hands and nose. After a few minutes, she heard the bell ring, but when she returned to the front, she found two customers instead of one.

It went like that all afternoon, with always one in as another was out. Unusual for November, but apparently there was a new requirement by the Ministry that new Aurors should have their wands inspected, and replaced if necessary. One too many accidents among poorly equipped trainees.

She began to help with registering sales, but moved to the window where she could take advantage of the brilliant sunlight. While she waited, she took out a small baby bonnet she was embroidering, but she found herself spending more time watching the people outside. This was the Wizarding side, and all manner of oddly dressed people gamboled about, some even coasted about on brooms. Peddlers and vendors lined the street, children ran in and out of the candy shop.

A Witch dressed in blue robes was carrying a basket of tiny orange cakes. Amanda watched as a man hailed her and bought two of the delicate pastries, paying the woman with a whole galleon.

The Witch thanked him, and walked on. Seeing Amanda in the window, she leaned forward to show her the basket, asking if she would like a cake. Amanda waved her to the door. The cakes looked delightful.

" How much?" she asked.

" Two sickles." the Witch replied. " Yes?"

Amanda nodded, and rummaged the change out of her dress pocket. She still had trouble with the currency, never knowing whether she was getting a good price on something or not. At the moment, she didn't care, she had to have one of those orange cakes. No...three of them, she decided, as she found six sickles.

The woman thanked her as the coins jangled into her palm, then exited. Outside she sold the rest of her wares to a goup of children coming from a joke shop. Amanda quickly ate one of the cakes, and had to be careful not to make a sound of satisfaction as she savored the sweet orange flavor.

She was just beginning the third when she thought it might be rude not to offer Edward any. But he seemed busy, and she promised herself she would be more kind in the future. At the moment, she could not resist just one more bite. That bite was followed by another and another until the cake was gone as well.

Using her wand to clean her fingers, she took up her again and managed to get most of the tiny white flowers worked before the light grew too dim. The last customer left, and she hastily wrote down the sale as Edward called off the wand's description.

That done, he collected the book, and glanced down the column, not bothering to cheek her figures. He knew they were accurate. Instead he closed the book, and took it to the back, and came back with the bag of galleons from the day's sales.

She had ceased to accompany him to the bank, since the goblins often insisted on having them personally deposit the money in the vault, and she simply could not tolerate that wild ride anymore.

Edward pulled the blind and turned the sign in the door, before helping her to her feet, asking her how she felt. She raised up to kiss his cheek, and told him what she had felt that morning.

He wasn't sure what to do, whether he should touch her or not. She offered to let him feel, and he let her take his hand. When nothing stirred beneath the lavender fabric of her dress, she began humming a jaunty tune that caused the baby to move. He smiled, despite himself.

" It's not so strong as it was earlier." she said. " Perhaps she is tired."
" Perhaps you both are. Why don't you rest back here for a moment." he noted that her eyes looked heavy and led her to the back. She remained standing in the doorway after he released her arm.

" Amanda? Are you all right?" he asked.

" Yes."

" Then come in and sit down..." he gestured to the desk chair, close to the little stove. She sat with a serene, obliging smile, and accepted a glass of water.

" Mmm...I like the ivy." she offered, admiring a series of sketches resting on the desktop.

" Thank you. I was thinking about an entire set."

He insisted that she remain seated while he quickly Apparated to Gringott's and deposited the money. He didn't like carrying that much money home.

While he was gone, Amanda drowsed in the chair, and flipped through a volume entitled;

" Where There's A Wand, There's A Way".

It wasn't quite what she expected though, so she laid it to the side,and rested her head on her arms. She found that anymore, it was nothing to fall asleep at any time..in any place. And the warmth from the fire was not helping much. She shifted uncomfortably for a few moments, aware of a pinching feeling somewhere. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She must have eventually drifted off, for when Edward called her name, his hand on her shoulder, it startled her.

" I'm sorry." she said, holding her head dizzily. She could taste orange bile at the back of her mouth, and willed herself not to be sick.

" Did you rest this afternoon?" he asked.

" Yes..." she daintily covered a yawn,and winced as a rather sharp jab caught her in the lower belly. That one was rather painful. No doubt form the odd position in which she had just been dozing.

" Well, let's get you home." he said. When she didn't stand, he took her hand. " Come on, stand up."

But as she stood, another pain, this one more intense shot through her. She gripped the desk for a moment.

" Now it is moving." she said lightly. He concern eased somewhat, but she couldn't disguise when another cramp struck across her back.

It was followed by another; this one a slow squeezing pain that reminded her too vividly of monthly discomforts.

" Amanda?' she heard him ask, but she couldn't answer. Her teeth were clenched, and there was a terrific pounding in her ears. When she tried to shake her head, she stumbled against the desk corner.

He caught her before she could fall to the floor, but she was like a dead weight in his arms. He eased her down, alarmed by her pallor, and the twisted expression of pain.

Just as suddenly as it had come, it faded away, and after a moment of deep breathing, she was able to reassure him that she was fine.

" I...I don't know what it was." she admitted, weakly.

Again he helped her to her feet, and she swayed a moment, dizzily, as he went for her wrap.

Just as he placed it about her shoulders though, and pulled her into his arms to Disapparate, she froze, gazing up at him with large terrified eyes. He didn't;t understand at first, why she was wrenching away. Then he saw the reason, and his stomach coiled painfully.

There was blood. Quite a lot of blood. And suddenly Amanda was sagging in his grip, her body suddenly boneless and limp.


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How Can I Keep From Singing?-Lyrics, Enya