Coral

Author's Note-Welcome to Part Two!



As thro' the land



As thro' the land at eve we went,



And pluck'd the ripen'd ears,



We fell out, my wife and I,



O we fell out I know not why,



And kiss'd again with tears.



And blessings on the falling out



That all the more endears,



When we fall out with those we love



And kiss again with tears!



For when we came where lies the child



We lost in other years,



There above the little grave,



O there above the little grave,



We kiss'd again with tears.--



Alfred Lord Tennyson



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" Clematis."



She rolled the blossom gently between her gloved fingers, watching the petals flutter for a moment.



" Strange that something so pretty and gentle looking can be so poisonous." she commented, before laying it to rest on the rough surface of the kitchen table.



" But such is the way of nature."



She took up another flower; a pale pink bloom.



" Primula vulgaris. Only mankind would name something so perfect, ' vulgaris'." she returned it to it's place as well.



Edward watched with amused interest as she began to examine every root, seed, blossom, and leaf that lay before her, inspecting each and every one for black spots, insects, bruises, and other imperfections. There was nothing. Each specimen was pristine.



They had 'constructed' a hot-house in the garden.It was her Christmas gift. From the outside, it was no bigger than a tool shed, but inside, it was roomy enough to allow for boxes upon boxes of herbs, each with a special climate bubble set to the plant's own preferences.



Sempervivum basked in a dry, semi-shaded box, spreading it's rosette offspring, while in the neighboring box her prize Melissa officianalis flourished in a humid atmosphere and sandy soil, filling the air with the sweet aroma of lemon cake.



At the far end of the house, separated from common herbs, magical and rare herbs fought with each other for territory. Adolescent mandrakes moodily drew in their leaves to avoid being touched, bubotubers grew behind glass shields, Devil's Snare was contained by a ring of perpetual faux sunlight.



Amanda had requested the hothouse as a means of distracting herself. Edward had brought her countless books on herbs while she was recuperating, and the skills that she had begun developing at Eloise's house had become slowly honed. So much that they had to add a dry storeroom to the kitchen, where she could hang great bundles of cooking and medicinal herbs upside down from the naked beams.



There were shelves for cooking spices, shelves for prepared medicinal herbs, shelves for ointments, vapors, pills, salves, teas, tinctures, and potion ingredients. Also, since the room was spacious, one entire wall was taken up by a sort of bureau the same height as the ceiling. It was composed of many small, square drawers, each with a brass plate containing a Latin word. Inside of these drawers were the rough wooden spindles that would eventually be wands.



Until recently the bureau had resided over the wand shop, where he had been accustomed to taking entire days to prepare certain numbers of wands. His unease at leaving his wife unattended at home, and yet the growing demand for wands had led him to move the cabinet to the house. It had never been organized before, merely stuffed with all sorts of wood, the sizes and grades helter-skelter in whichever drawer.



He had always relied on instinct and touch to find the precise right piece. However he had no complaint when she offered to organize it for him.Now there was a set of drawers for every type of wood. Each drawer had dividers to section the wands from shortest to longest, and in each drawer was a different quality of wand. Beginning at extremely whippy, and ending at extremely rigid. That had been the most difficult category, because whereas you had an rigid oak, you did not have rigid elm, and whereas you had very supple mistletoe, there was nothing supple about Hornbeam.



That too, had always been done merely on instinct, but they managed as well as possible, and he had to admit it was much easier to simply reach for a drawer and know which wood, it's length, and how supple it was, than to have to rummage blindly until one 'felt' correct.



He admired the cabinet once more as he opened the door of the storeroom for Amanda, who had finished bottling up the last of the roots, and gathered her arms full of the jars.The room was stuffed nearly to capacity, as the hothouse had become so prolific that Eloise had actually requested that Amanda not share any more of her bounty.



" It's nothing personal..." she had written, " but what is it that you have against growing carrots? I'm sure that one day I might have use for Syrian Bindweed, but that the moment, I have eight full jars of it, and it qualifies as the herb I own the least of. Carrots, my dear. Carrots..."



Amele however was always a willing recipient of feverfews, and catnip teas. She now had five boys. Her last, Wellis, was a colicky thing that gave his mother and father no rest. After Amanda's fall, Amele had been hesitant to bring the children around her, for fear of upsetting her. When Amanda at last suspected her friend's noble motives, she had written to her at once and begged them to visit her. She wanted to see the children.



Yes, it had been difficult at first to see Wellis, him being only a few months older than her own Olivia would have been. But seeing the pure innocence in his large brown eyes, and watching as his brothers played about him rambunctiously, she became determined to have her own child, come what may.



They had only visited her the one time, in December. Wellis was so constantly ill, that Amele was too tired for outings, Then, in January, all of the children and Amele had caught Witches Measles, a particularly violent but non-deadly disease of the Wizarding world that lasted for over two months. The only cure was to drink bottles of fermented feverfew tea, and to avoid sunlight, moonlight, and if possible candlelight. Amele said in a note that even starlight made her itch, but Amanda thought she might be exaggerating.



It had only been a month since they had fallen ill, and Amanda had been sending great paper envelopes of herbs to them daily. She did this after storing away the rest of the bottles and jars, and Edward helped her with her packaging by tying the string, as her hand, despite several trips to the healers, had not regained it's former strength and dexterity.



Since that night, months ago, when they had shared their secrets, he had resumed his courtship, feeling it to be the least he could do after having been so cruelly mistaken about her. He found himself craving the smiles, the pretty looks and the sweet kisses each gesture invoked, and on some level of his consciousness, he believed he was binding her heart and soul, tighter and tighter. This was not entirely true, as Amanda was already bound tightly, She had a simple heart and soul, and they already belonged to him. It was he who was being wound, as easily as string around her long fingers. It would not be too long before he was snubbed as close as a man could be and still believe himself in control of his own emotions.



Amanda had at first been perplexed by his actions, and might have remained just as innocent, if Eloise hadn't whispered into her ear what she suspected was occurring, and gave her advice on the most delicate way to handle such situations as those where a man was sacrificing his pride. To Amanda, it was as uncomplicated as behaving as she always did. She sometimes found the need to hide a smile, as his ideas were often quirky, and his compliments sometimes perplexing.



However, the most appreciated gestures were ones that he performed, such as tying the string, when he was not trying so hard, or when he was preoccupied, as he was now.



" Are you certain you will be fine, staying with Eloise?" he asked, after the bow was tied.



That question was part of a conversation that had been circulating between them for three days. Every other year, there was a convention of wandmakers that met in a pre-selected city. This year the city was Radom,in Poland. The Polish wands-man that had been in charge of examining Demogene's wand had been very excited about it, and had invited Edward. Edward used to attend every convention, but had slacked off in the last fifteen years, due to what he considered to be a lack of originality provided by other craftsmen.



Now he was almost on the verge of accepting...charged by his colleague's enthusiasm, and fresh ideas. He was in fact, within the proverbial inch of giving in to the temptation. He only needed to reassure himself that Amanda was well cared for, first. He had begun by asking her to accompany him.



" To Poland? In February?" she gave a dramatic shiver. She was wearing a woolen dress with a jacket in her own home! As flattered as she was that he had invited her, she had to decline. She just did not feel like travelling, but she couldn't explain to him that it was more emotional than physical, the very thought of going out made her lazy and homesick.



And there was so much for her to do at home. A basket of mending, needlework projects, the attic to be cleaned, the hothouse to attend, books to read, and the housecleaning to perform. Without Polly, it had to be done the Muggle way. She also had a box of recipes to try, a new concerto to practice,letters to answer, and a huge volume of magical tree lore that she had not yet memorized.



She had hoped to stay at home and work peacefully through these projects, but that seemed to be out of the question. Edward absolutely refused to allow her to remain unsupervised, and everyone else agreed with him. Outnumbered, it had been arranged for her to spend the week at Rookwood. Her kinswomen seemed to view it as a sleep-over, which amused Amanda. If they were going to become so excited over so little, then she could afford to enjoy it as well. She might even catch up on all the latest gossip.



The Ministry Aurors had not yet discovered who had been responsible for murdering Demogene. Some people said that it was good riddance, but Eloise did not agree. Amanda herself felt strangely apathetic on the issue. She wanted to know...but she could not find it in herself to care. Like Giles, Edward, Arthur Weasley, Eloise, and the others, Amanda felt that not knowing only meant that a crazier, even more dangerous person was still roaming the Wizarding world, perhaps planning harm to someone else.



Perhaps he or she already was doing harm. Eloise had gleaned from her various sources that no fewer than twelve of the Muggle born brides had suffered mysterious deaths in the last year. Five more had been involved in accidents that had nearly killed them. Charles Bumpp's bride herself had been burned severely in an explosion, and had been irreparably blinded. Miraculously, none of the offspring successfully created by these marriages had been harmed, regardless of their proximity to their mothers. Coincidence? They had their doubts.



Until the matter was resolved, Amanda was under strict orders to be extremely cautious, and to not be caught in public without a chaperone.



Everyone, from Giles to Amele, felt that they had somehow failed Amanda the last time, and they were determined to be much more vigilant in the future. So much so that a day before the convention, Edward was still trying to be certain that everything would be fine.



She had told him repeatedly that she would eternally guilty if he missed the convention. And she had said it so prettily, that he had agreed to go, just to save her from being guilty.



However...he was still uncertain.



" It isn't important, you know. These things are very boring. Very boring. Yes. Everything of value is printed up later in Baguette Magique. Nothing to go for, actually."



" If you don't go, I'll never forgive you." she replied.



" Not ever?"



" No."



" You have inherited your aunt's obstinacy."



" Who is being the obstinate one?" she laughed. " I agreed to stay with Eloise, I promised to not step out of doors without one of them along. What more can I do?"



From her own perspective, she won. On the fifteenth of February, he left her at Rookwood, and began a series of Disapparation points that would lead him to Poland. At the approximate time that he was halfway between Liverpool and Amsterdam, she was sitting down in front of a fire, unconsciously twirling her locket and thinking about him, as Eloise and Stella began a discussion on the Quibbler, and it's accuracy in extolling the dangers of magically freed warts.



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Sweet Pea-symbolizes Love,

Bliss,