Coral

You think you're gonna take her away
With your money and your cocaine
Keep thinkin' that mind is gonna change
But I know everything is okay

She's gonna listen to her heart
It's gonna tell her what to do
She might need a lot of loving
But she don't need you


----

April.

Already April! Why, she had been married almost an entire year. It had been a year since her engagement. She wanted to be happy at that thought. Sentimental even. But whenever she thought of June, her stomach tensed painfully.

Every week, since the beginning of the year, she had been receiving notes from the Ministry informing her that she had thus far failed to fulfill her obligations. As if she herself didn't know this. She had been hiding them away since the first, which Edward had read. It had infuriated him so that he threatened to confront the Minister about harassment. He mentioned a choice hex or two.

Fortunately, Amanda had soothed him somewhat, and since that day, he had not mentioned the note, the Ministry, or their future.

Now, as the cool April wind blew shoppers and pedestrians up Diagon Alley, Amanda sat behind the counter in the snug little shop, an open book lying in front of her. It was very dull, she had to turn it over sometimes to recall it's title.

Somewhere behind her, she could hear rummaging.

" I didn't put you there. What is this?" she heard him muttering. " Oak? This is where the elm is supposed to be!"

She smiled to herself, and tried to read another paragraph. When it proved to be impossible, she slipped out a Quibbler magazine. Stella and Eloise claimed the Quibbler was trash, but they devoured every edition, and passed them on gleefully to Amanda, with certain articles marked for her perusal. Sometimes the articles were enjoyable, trash or not, but at other times she had to pick through the fiction to discover any useful fact.

Questions such as, " Are there really miniature sand yeti's?"most usually earned her a look of marked exasperation from whomever she had asked.

Well, was it her fault if she was raised in a world where they knew nothing of sand yeti?

She flipped through this month's edition, which featured an article on the Hairy Winged Half-fly of Brazil; a study on the power of rubies, and the conspiracy behind door locks.

" ...No!No!No! Everything has to be changed." he muttered behind her. A great crashing followed.


She winced.

Outside, an anemic yet consistent stream of people passed in front of the shop window. Some slowed, and sometimes stopped, to peer through the glass. One of these was a young girl, perhaps nineteen, with hunched shoulders, and a lazy, scuffling step. She paused to look in the window, pressing her splotchy skin right up against the glass. For a moment, the girl looked in at Amanda, and Amanda, fascinated, regarded the girl.

She wore an open set of Wizarding robes, of a bold purple. Underneath them, were a tattered pair of jeans, and a stomach baring, black top with a ripped hem. A set of very large, plastic earrings peeked out of greasy, not-quite blonde hair.

For a moment, it was as though a mirror between worlds had been unveiled, and Amanda had to struggle to remember that she herself had not too long ago left that world where girls wore tattered jeans to school, and pink bikini's to lie in the sun beside chlorinated blue swimming pools.

That world was nothing more than a dream.

She tried to imagine what the girl must be seeing. A dusty, shabby shop. Dimly lit, with shelves of severely stacked boxes. A woman not much older than herself, dressed in a dusky mauve dress, her hair caught up sloppily in what Polly termed ' a grandmother's knot'. Through the dusty glass of the window, she must surely look like a faded photograph.

With a sullen frown, the girl pulled slowly away and began shuffling down the street once more.

Amanda shrugged to herself, and thought about the years in which she had constantly been told to stand up straight, and to not lean on things, and never touch her face with her hands.

" Leaning on tables makes a girl have ugly elbows." her grandmother had warned. " And besides, when a person constantly slouches or leans against other objects, it makes them seem too lazy to stand."

As a younger girl, Amanda had promised herself that she would one day lean whenever she wished. However, now that she was grown, she found it to be just as unattractive as her grandmother Garrett had always claimed it to be. Praise to all of those women who had straight backs and light easy steps, and praise to the mothers and grandmothers that spent hours making them walk up and down staircases balancing the etiquette book on their heads.

She suddenly felt very sorry for the girl outside the window.

" Amanda."

Edward touched her shoulder gently, startling her.

" I have an errand to run. Can you tend shop for a few moments?" his hair was in frantic disarray, and there was dust on his coat sleeve.

" Of course."

" Good girl. If there are any customers, tell them I'll be no longer than five minutes. I'll go out the back."

Going out the back meant that he was going to Knockturn Alley, and that was one place she was never invited to go. Not that she would want to..she had read a few articles about what went on down there, and true or not, she had no desire to discover it for herself.

She watched him disappear through into the back, before re-opening the Quibbler to read about the rubies. She had never even seen a real ruby, yet the author of the article, Ermine Gloriola, seemed to think that people had pocketfuls of them lying about. The article recommended sleeping in a tub filled with small rubies to gain or the heighten the powers of prophecy.

" Oh, that makes it simple. " Amanda said to herself with a wry smile.

She read on until the light faded, them stood and stretched. Time to begin closing down. In the back room, she extinguished the small fire that had been built to keep the damp chill from the air. Then she collected her cloak and purse, the accounts for the evening, and the ring of skeleton keys that locked up the house, but were too heavy to carry at all times without the assistance of a chatelaine., a device she was not yet eccentric enough to don.

As she was closing the door, the bell sounded, signaling her that a customer had entered by the front. At this late an hour, it was most likely Colonel Barkwater. He came nearly every evening to discuss the weather, and look for whatever suspicious Aurors looked for when they were out. She hurried from the room, knowing that if he couldn't find her at once he would alert the entire world.

She discovered two customers, neither of whom was portly enough to be Barkwater. One of the men had his back turned to her, and the other was opening the wand boxes and looking inside. Knowing how much that would infuriate Edward, she coughed loudly. The man glanced up.

" Is there anything I can help you with?" she asked.

" Is this the one you were talking about?" the man jerked his head in her direction, while looking to his companion.

" Yes it is." the second man said.

Amanda grimaced. It was none other than Martin Ashwell. His hair was shorter, and he had a golden tan, but he looked just as repulsive as she remembered him.

" What are you doing here?" she asked, coolly.

" As warm as ever, Miranda."

" Amanda.' she automatically corrected.

" Of course. " he smiled snakily." Perhaps I need a wand."

She narrowed her eyes.

" I thought you already had one too many." she replied.


He gave her a slight bow of the head.

" Well, if you must know...I heard it that someone who looked a lot like you, was working in a place a lot like this."

The other man was still opening boxes, taking the wands out and dropping the lids.

" Please stop touching the wands, they are delicate instruments." she told him. He only snickered.

" You see, I have been away in France." Martin continued, dramatically, ignoring his friend. " You broke my heart when you refused my marriage offer, but I had every intention of forgiving you."

" That is very generous. Stop knocking them over!" she shouted at the other man.

" Avery...I'm trying to have a conversation here. Do be quiet." Martin said gently.

Avery sauntered around the end of the counter and began rifling the pages of her magazine. He ripped out the picture of a pretty witch in a bathing suit bathing in the tub of rubies.

She stepped further out so that she could keep an eye on both men, and the doors.

" I heard an ugly rumor after I returned..." Martin tsked. " Isn't it amazing how quickly ugly rumors can spring up about nice people?"

She scowled at him, opening her mouth to say something. He hurried on.

" I heard that you had been married, Amanda. And to...the owner of this somewhat dusty establishment?"

" That was no rumor. But don't pretend to be so surprised. Elias-"

" Elias?" Martin's jaw tightened slightly. " When did you speak to Elias?"

" At my wedding. "

" What did he say?"

" That you were in a pet."

" Well, so I had heard you had married. I just didn't know to whom...I thought it was that Jan fellow. Elias kept this a secret...not that I blame him. And I wasn't in a pet. I couldn't care less about you."

He took a deliberate step closer to her. She stepped back, and realized her mistake as she cornered herself against a shelf. He reached out a hand toward her.

" What are you doing?"

" This..." he seized her necklace, and held it up. " What is this? Pearls? Now I see your motive! Pearls! Who would have thought?"he tugged it.

She jerked her head back.

" It is time for me to close the shop."

" Don't let us stop you." Avery piped, sweeping everything off of the counter. Amanda jumped.

" Why did you do that?" she raised her voice, trying to sound stern and demanding like Eloise. It sounded a bit more hysterical. A bit screechy.

" Because he wanted to." Martin answered. " And we do what we want, whenever we choose. Do you know what I want to do?"

" Leave, I hope." she glanced over at the clock.

" Go ahead, Amanda, and close up. We'll walk you safely home."

" Mr. Ashwell. It is late.My husband will be back any minute." She allowed herself to admire Martin's change of expression for a moment. He looked as though he had a sudden taste of pure vinegar. " And he won't want any vermin loafing around his establishment."

Martin turned his head slowly toward Avery, but kept his eyes on Amanda. They were slitted and hostile.

" Avery? Why don't you...tidy things up a bit for her?"

" Pleasure." Avery took out his wand, and in the split second before he used it to blast one of the shelves over, Amanda noticed that it was made of ebony, and was quite battered.

" Stop it!" she lunged forward, but Martin pushed her back against the wall.

" You stay." he drawled. " I want to talk to you. I didn't come in here to shop or to watch Avery display his destructive tendencies...though it is entertaining." he paused long enough to watch Avery toss several sheets of papers on the floor, then tear another handful into tiny pieces.

Amanda made to dodge past him again, reaching for her pocket, but he pressed his elbow hard into her shoulder, pinning her against the wall. Reaching into her pocket, he took out her wand, and tossed it behind them.

" No, no, no, little girl." he smiled, tucking a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. Then he let his hand drop to her chest.

" Quit touching me!" she snarled, writhing under his touch. He only drove his elbow harder into her shoulder.

" You know...I really do think you are pretty. At times. That is why I wanted to tell you that I forgive you for not accepting my marriage offer. It's been almost a year hasn't it? A young girl like yourself must be growing restless. I can't give you pearls...not just yet. But perhaps I can give you what the pearls are replacing."

He squeezed her breast hard, and she yelped. Seizing his arm as he tried to lean in and kiss her, she lowered her mouth and bit down as hard as she could. His arm tasted sour, but she forced herself to bite harder, until the tang of blood filled her mouth.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his other arm, and she closed her eyes tightly, anticipating the force of his blow.

A horrific crack sounded near her ear, but she felt no pain. Opening her eyes, but not her mouth, she saw Edward. He must have heard the commotion from the passageway, and had stealthily approached to see what was occurring.

Martin roared in pain and shook his arm, rattling Amanda's head. She released him, but it wasn't his bitten arm that he gripped. His right hand was hanging at an unusual angle. Edward lowered his walking stick, which he had just used to break her attacker's wrist. He wore a very icy glare, and Amanda had never in her life been more grateful to see another human being.

In his other hand, Edward held his wand, which was trained on Martin. Amanda glanced over to Avery, only to see he had been quietly and efficiently petrified.

" You bastard!" Martin snarled, groping with his left, bleeding hand, for his wand. " You've broken my arm!"

Edward gave a slight, cold smile, and placed a neat bodybind over Martin. Then he relieved him of his wand, and placed him in the corner by his companion. After a moment's thought, he cast a second spell that caused both men to collapse, unconscious.

" And it serves you right." he said.

Amanda reached for his arm, her hands trembling, but he fixed her with such a hard look that she froze. Dropping her hands, she gripped her skirts nervously. Behind him, she could see the disaster that Avery had created and swallowing down the fear that she hadn't noticed until now, she stepped around him, and knelt down. She began scooping up boxes, and wands.

She was a little shaky as she stood and dropped them on the counter. Tears suddenly filled her eyes. She was scared, and embarrassed, and very angry. Angry that she had allowed Martin to once again corner her. Angry that she could not defend herself, and could not stop them from vandalizing.

Wiping her eyes roughly, she knelt to pick up the paper scraps. She froze at a hand on her shoulder.

" Where is your wand?"

" He took it, threw it...over there." even her voice was trembly. She sighed, and rested her hands on her knees, staring down at the splintery scuffed floor. She wondered if he could hear her heart beating?

After a moment, she heard his step. He went to where her wand lay among the several that had been blasted from the shelves. Stooping he retrieved it gently, and handed it to her. Then he took her arm and hoisted her to her feet.

" Wait...let me clean up...it's my fault-"

" No! Leave it." his voice was sharp, but his glare was directed at Ashwell. " I'm going to Floo the Ministry.Then we're going home. What is it?"

Her hand had gone to her throat, and with a look of shocked dismay, she had discovered that the locket was missing.

" My locket...it's gone!" she exclaimed. " That pig broke my locket! I swear if he did break it, I'll...have his head!" she stamped her foot, earning a briefly raised brow from Edward.

She leant over and began searching through papers and boxes. He must have kicked it during her struggle...she found it by the front door. After examining it thoroughly, she sighed with relief.

" It didn't break it. Only the clasp is sprung..." she sniffed.

" Wait here. " he said. " I'll only be a moment."

She watched him take up the keys from where she had dropped them, and stride toward the back. She thought about hastily tidying everything up, but decided she would rather not be alone in the room with the two men, even if they were magically secured. Gripping her own wand tightly, she edged past them and stood waiting for him in the passage.

When Edward re-emerged, he was accompanied by Giles, and a tall black Wizard with a deep voice and a gold earring. They did a quick thorough investigation, identifying the two offenders, checking all of the wands to see what spells had been used. ( Except of course for Amanda's which was hidden away in her dress.) They used quick-quote quills to take down notes, and statements.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the black wizard, was very polite, and insisted gently that Amanda sit down and drink a glass of water before telling her story. For some reason, as she tried to tell it, her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Then Giles and Shacklebolt left, and took the two 'prisoners' with them.

Edward and Amanda remained only long enough for him to carefully wrap her cloak about her shoulders, and close and lock the shop.

After they had Apparated to their home, he let them in, without having spoken a word, and took her cloak with as much care as he had given it. Not turning on a single light, and still not speaking, he gripped her wrist firmly and led her up the stairs.


By the time they had reached the door to her room, her heart was beating rapidly, and she couldn't swallow. So, was this where she was to learn the consequences of angering him? Could he really be that mad at her, even though he claimed to have heard nearly the entire conversation from the back room? What was he going to do?

He opened the door, and gently ushered her inside, gesturing for her to sit on the bed. As she did so, she heard the door being locked and warded behind her.

***

What he did to her that night, was shocking.

It was not rape. She welcomed it too easily, enjoyed it too much, though it was alien and almost brutal at times. Even at the beginning, it was hastened by some force, as she felt her clothes dissolve in the blue lighted room.

After that, it was skin and bones. There was neither love nor romance in it. He seemed to be removing all trace of Martin's touch from her skin, marking her as his own again. It was masculine and strange, sometimes frightening, but she did not resist. She melted against every rough caress, answered every biting kiss.

Several times she had to cry out, but she wasn't sure herself if were from pleasure or pain. It confused her, and excited her. Whenever she uttered her small words, or gave a tiny whimper, he would relent and shift her position slightly, never desisting completely as he whispered encouragements against her throat or swallowed her surprised exclamations.

He was a person of extreme and opposing emotions. His expression seemed angry, but his touch was restrained enough to never really hurt. His grip on her wrists was like steel manacles, but warm; he was pinning her submissively to the mattress, but his words were soft, first speaking nearly incoherently everything he felt about seeing her being touched by someone else. Then the words changed to a few endearments, then to soft pleading. Pleading with her to just ride--ride with everything, and let everything fall.

She didn't understand fully, but she did the best she could.

Near the end his eyes locked with hers, and even in the dim light, she could see the blue color, and the intensity. What was it they seemed to say? His hands released hers, and seized her hips, bruising the soft skin as he lifted them towards himself. She could no longer breathe, it was so fast, and so strong. She could only watch with fascination his loss of control, the darkened features, the straining tendons, and pulsing veins. Unable to keep her own eyes open, she let her head roll back into the pillow. Overwhelmed, she barely notice when he placed his mouth on her and bit onto the soft skin.

Then, as quickly as the storm had risen, it had blown itself away, and the night closed silently around them. They merely lay, not knowing what to say as the sweat cooled on their bodies, and the sound of heavy breathing and heartbeats faded into the soft blackness of an exhausted sleep.

***

She opened her eyes to see grayish light of cloudy morning at the window. Even though she had slept more than than twelve hours, she had great difficulty fighting her way to full consciousness. For the first time since Olivia's funeral, she had slept a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

The curtains had not been closed the night before and a beam of the murky light was shining on her face. She wanted only to roll over and return to slumber.

Stretching softly, she discovered with some surprise that Edward was still in the bed, and that her arm was pinned under his shoulder. It was quite numb.

Glancing down at the bed, she saw that the sheets were kicked about, and twisted at their waists.The night before, a sudden kaleidoscope of memories, began resurfacing. Reaching out thoughtfully, she tasted her lips. They were swollen and tender, and tasted coppery. Sharp.

She tried gently to untangle at least a corner of the sheet with which to cover her exposed chest, and managed to just find enough loose fabric to be modest. She intended to wriggle down and go back to sleep, but her movements had roused him from his own troubled slumber.

Unlike her, he recalled right away what had occurred, and looked slightly taken aback. She was afraid for a moment, that he as going to apologize, or say something awkward, but he just continued to regard her for sometime, with his crazy pale eyes, and crazed expression. Until she found herself placing her hand on his cheek and reaching close enough to kiss him. He let her, but pulled away almost as soon as their lips had touched.

She winced as he raised up off of her numb arm, and then gasped with shock as he spun the covers off of her body.

" Edward!" she shrieked in a tiny disapproving voice, reaching for the sheet, as she blushed red and closed her eyes.

She felt his fingertips on her shoulder, where the skin was tender. Then on the places where his lips and hands had touched and held her roughly, and despite herself, her eyes fluttered open to watch, and she was startled by the feelings that the whisper soft touches were evoking in her body. She wondered briefly if she might not be wanton. Whereas he had satisfied himself the night before, she had only been led close, and not fulfilled. At the memory of it all, she felt she wanted nothing more than retribution.

" I can't feel them..." she said huskily.

He peered at her, understanding better than she the reason for her dilated pupils, and erratic breathing, but refusing to believe. Hating himself, he pulled the sheet back over her, and tucked it under her hip. He might be saying no as he shook his head at her, but he remained half-leaning over her, propped on his elbow. With a finger, he brushed the tangled strands of her hair from her forehead, one at a time.

" Did I hurt you...?" he asked, softly.

" No." she answered honestly. Her eye did not twitch.

" There is no excuse for what I did." Who was he trying to convince? He began to smooth the sheet over her with his free hand. " And don't deserve your forgiveness."

" Perhaps not..." she agreed, as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder near the place he had bitten her the night before. It was an ugly mark, and it bothered him. He couldn't think what had possessed him to do such a thing. To bite her! It was ugly and swollen, dark purple where his teeth had almost broken the skin. What if it left a scar?

He meant to summon a salve for it, but she had wrapped her arms around him, and pressed him close. He could not quite read the expression in her large, luminous eyes, but his hand, the hand smoothing the sheet, became more firm, pausing to caress and explore at random.

Amanda arched toward him when he reached her breasts, raising one knee to cradle him. His lips somehow found their way to hers, and he kissed her without mercy, thinking she would relent. She only moaned in frustration when he pulled away.

" I shouldn't." he said. " God knows what I've done already. You weren't well..."

" I...I..." she breathed, unable to bring her thoughts into words. I feel empty...is what she wanted to say. Instead, she raised up halfway to kiss him, pulling him down with her, and not releasing him.

With a groan of despair, the sound of a man losing a great battle, he gave in to her temptation. Obliging her, he made certain that everything was gentle. So very gentle. Every touch, and every kiss. Languid, even. Heated by her memories of the night before, and emboldened by her needs, Amanda was soon trembling in his arms, clutching and exclaiming as she let go of everything. She understood what he had been begging of her the night before, understood what it was like to shed her decorum for once, and writhe like an animal. Understood what it was to be utterly and completely human.

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever felt, but he seemed slightly embarrassed afterwards,and was reluctant to meet her eye. Nevertheless he hummed under his breath as he fumbled with his cufflinks.


She remained lying in bed after he had recovered enough to dress. She was curled comfortably on her stomach, and she watched him try to fasten the cufflinks, and thought to herself that if he would just come closer, she would fasten them for him, but she had reached a stage of pleasant laziness. She wondered if she would ever be able to speak again.

He misunderstood her expression.


" You are quite pale..." he said, suddenly concerned. She opened her eyes, guiltily, aware that she had nearly dozed off once more. " I'll have Polly bring something for you to eat--what would you like for breakfast? "

She started to answered that she was not hungry, but knew that would get her nowhere. Besides, now that she thought about it...

" French toast. With strawberries." she murmured, as her stomach gave a soft rumble.

" Nothing else? It's been ages since you have last eaten."

" Oh..." she rolled onto her back. " I suppose an egg. And tea. I'm more thirsty than hungry."

The thought of tea pushed the possibility of sleep completely out of her mind, and with a sigh, she sat up stiffly, taking care to wrap the sheet discreetly around her shoulders. He frowned at her thoughtfully, and started to say something, only to shake his head.

" I must speak to Giles. " he stated, his hand on the doorknob." I shall not be too long."

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Lyrics-Tom Petty