Coral

**Author's Note: Thank you so much, ReflectingSpirit, for your generous review. I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it progresses. I apologize for it's lengthiness!

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You've got the most unbelievable blue eyes I've ever seen

You've got me almost melting away

As we lay there under blue sky with pure white stars

exotic sweetness a magical time

I love you always forever

near and far closer together

everywhere I will be with you

everything I will do for you---

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June came, and Amanda spent most of her time, in one shop or the other. Edward did not like the idea of her staying home alone, and she was still refusing to replace Polly, but she didn't relish the idea of being alone either. If she felt she needed more rest she would spend the day at Rookwood. Or if she wanted to stay at home, Stella would visit and pretend to be dusting when really she came to gossip.

Amanda was slightly surprised at her belly. It had grown more than she had thought possible. By the time July began, her back began to ache, and she was convinced it might be twins. Everywhere she went, her belly went before her, and was in the way...she had to walk down the narrow streets of Diagon Alley sideways to keep strangers from bumping into her, and she had to place her feet on a chair to tie her shoes.

Amele came three times in two weeks to expand her dresses, then gave up and made six new ones that were charmed to expand as needed. Edward had added a low, soft chair to the shop in Diagon Alley for her to sit in, despite her assurances that the other chairs were fine. Instead of being allowed to sit at the high counter to do the books, she was relocated to the office where she work from her soft chair. In the village shop, he transfigured a short hard bench ( the sort to make waiting customers fidget in hopes they might buy more in their impatience)into a soft padded bench that she could lie back on if she felt dizzy.

It was usually nicer to be in the shop, she decided, as Edward was only a few steps away and was always peering in to ask if she needed anything. He would not allow her to clean the shop, and she watched ruefully as it grew dusty again; the floors dulled by the constant traffic of hard wizarding boots. She was amazed really, at how many wands were sold every week. One would think that the major demand would only be once a year when the first year students began trickling in for their first wands, and the occasional replacement or repair for older wands.

It was actually quite amazing, and in her opinion, quite sad, that so many witches and wizards were careless with these instruments and were always losing them or breaking them. No matter how often Edward explained that each wand was a unique powerful object suited to the individual, there would always be a careless person who left it in the rain, or let their pets chew on the handle, or dropped it from their pocket while riding their brooms. Adults and children alike were constantly purchasing second wands, just because they had misplaced the one, and were too lazy to search for it properly.

Edward would always seethe when a woman explained how hopelessly lost her wand was, or when a man shrugged, not caring that he had stepped on something that had taken days of hard toil to create. Edward's voice would change from his soft, flittery shopkeeper's voice, to the stern tone he took with persons he considered disrespectful or obtuse.

The wealthy in particular, seemed to make a habit of being careless. Just at the end of June a very distasteful customer had returned only hours after her purchase, to buy another wand for her son...a blond, pointy faced boy who smirked haughtily at Edward and Amanda as he waited impatiently. Apparently, he had snapped the first wand in half after a tantrum over a sporting broom and his mother was cajoling him with a new wand, and the broom, which he had clutched in one paw.

" I don't want that wand..." the boy whined when Edward tried to fit him with a hazel wand. " I liked the other one. I want one that is ebony!"

" I would like an exact match." she announced coldly, her lip curled nearly to her nose. Even so, her words were beautifully spoken.

Edward had restrainedly told the woman that a wand was not a toy to be broken whenever a child felt a whim, and that he had no other exact match to that wand because all the wands were different.

" Do you know who I am?" she had demanded, imperiously. " Madame Malfoy! My husband is Lucius Malfoy..." she reeled off his importance status, and Edward listened patiently, but not without a grim expression. Then he offered her three choices.

One was to let him repair the wand, which would make it less powerful,and very irascible. Two was to let the boy be fitted with the next wand. Her third choice was that she could simply go to his competitor in Liverpool, who often made mass quantities of similar wands for just this reason.

He managed to imply that the such wands were inferior to personalized wands, knowing that she would buy the replacement simply because her family and her husband's family had bought their wands at Ollivander's for seven generations, and not even a spoiled heir could dissolve such touching devotion to family tradition.

She bought the hazel wand, but she looked absolutely murderous when she left, no doubt with every intent to tattle to her husband...for what it was worth. After her visit, Edward had looked unutterably relieved, and closed the shop early.

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The middle of July began, and every day seemed like several, as Amanda grew more and more excited about the baby. The desire to see it and hold it made the wait seem interminable, so she took to diverting herself through poetry. She read poetry, and she wrote poetry. She wrote little soft poems for the baby. She wrote little stories and family anecdotes. At the piano one day she composed a simple melody that could pass for a lullabye. She worked for weeks to write the perfect set of words to accompany the tune.

One Sunday morning, Edward and Amanda were lounging in the garden, enjoying a luncheon of cold sandwiches, fruit, tea, tomatoes and cheeses...anything that was in the pantry and not too difficult to prepare. At least, Edward was enjoying it. Amanda had long ago ceased feigning interest, as she scribbled thoughtfully in a notebook she had propped against her knees. Her feet rested on a small stool, and she had tucked the skirt of her long white dress under her hip to prevent the lacy train from dragging on the dirty stones.

He had read the entire paper, noting who was to be the Defense against the dark arts teacher at Hogwarts that year. He asked her if her tea was fine, and she had answered with a barely audible, " Mmhmm..."

She gave the same answer to several other questions he asked, including whether or not she was bored, and whether or not she believed that a plague of green tongued Toe flies had invaded the Highlands. Pressing his lips together in exasperation, he reached across the small table, and placed a finger on the corner of her book. When she did not look up, he gave a gentle tug on it.

Amanda raised her eyes in surprise, blinking.

" I'm sorry...did you say something?"

" I asked you if you were bored." he repeated, trying playfully to take the notebook. She held onto it a moment, and then relinquished it suddenly, laughing when he nearly dropped it into the fruit platter.

" No. I'm not bored. Are you?"

" Hmmm...?" he asked, browsing over her writing. It was series of rhyming words, and couplets pertaining to daffodils and moonbeams.

She tried to take a drink of her tea, only to discover it had grown cold over an hour ago. Not being able to reach the teapot easily, she stealthily pushed her cup across the table to sit beside his plate, and then slowly slid his own cup of freshly poured tea toward herself, where she added another two cubes of sugar and began drinking happily.

" I say...are you bored?" she asked again. He looked up, his small round-rimmed reading glasses slipped down over his long nose.

" Me bored? No...not ever. But I do worry about you. " he frowned.

" Worry! That's a strong word. Even if I were bored...nobody has ever died from boredom."

" That's where you are gravely mistaken." he stated. " Why, several thousand people die of boredom every day!"

" Oh? And can you name one?" she asked, propping her hand in her chin.

" Certainly. My great Uncle Fitzhubert. "

" He died of boredom?" she asked, skeptically.

" He did. He had a reputation as being a sensible man, so it is generally assumed that had he not been bored, he would never have ventured into that dragon cave."

Amanda struck at his hand in mock annoyance.

" I cannot believe you!" she exclaimed, laughing just the same. " Did your uncle really die in a dragon cave?"

" Of course not!" he said cajolingly. " He died in the center for magical burns."

She shook her head and settled back into her chair, pulling the plate of cheese closer.

" See? How I could possibly be anything less than fully entertained?"

" I am serious though." he said. " It seems as though you would be shut in, you can't go anywhere or do anything...sometimes I really do feel as though I am holding you prisoner."

" Don't start being absurd." she said, firmly. " I am doing exactly what I have always enjoyed doing, except now I can do as I please without having to worry with all of those stifling social expectations."

He frowned slightly.

" Truly." she added. " I promise that if I ever have a moment of unrest, you will be the first to know. Until then, let's not spoil a perfectly good Sunday with foolish concerns." she smiled to soften the harsh sound of the words, and to let him know that she did appreciate the concern.

" If I'm ever completely bored, you must know...so that you can keep me away from dragon caves."

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It was a Tuesday. To Amanda, it was merely an ordinary Tuesday. She had cleaned Crisp's cage, sent a list of linens to the laundry, and ironed the dresses that had been laundered the day before. Thankfully, though her iron was an antique iron that came with the laundry room, she could heat it with her wand instead of the stove, and it would maintain a perpetual, even temperature.

After the ironing, she had prepared lunch, and then accompanied Edward back to the shop, where she began working on the mending...a task that her wand was not equipped to manage. Occasionally she pulled out the needlework cushion she was making for the swan chaise. She had found a lovely selection of threads in shades of soft coral and pink, and was working bargello in the ribbon pattern.

Having finished mending the cuffs of two shirts, three sheets, and the hem of her favorite blue dress, she had taken the needlework out and threaded her needle. The shop bell rang, just as the thread slipped through the eye, startling her slightly. It was the first time the bell had rang all day, and in the silent shop it sounded twice as loud as usual.

She listened, out of simple curiosity, and because she had no choice. The sounds from the front of the shop were magically carried to the backrooms via a special spell. There was a slight pause before she heard Edward's soft "Good afternoon".

He was answered by a childish voice.

It was still early in the year for the children to be buying their school supplies.

" Ah yes, " she heard Edward say. His tone was now pleased, and rather excited. " Yes, yes, I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter."

Amanda looked up, intrigued. Who was Harry Potter? And how did Edward know him?

" You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday that she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

She was slightly surprised to hear no response from the child. Usually, Edward's trick and eccentric flair caused them to vocalize surprise and awe.

" Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it--it is really the wand that chooses the Wizard of course."

There was still no response, and for a moment, Amanda wondered if he might not be just chattering to himself again.

" And that's where..." he paused, " I'm sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands...well, If I had known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

Amanda dropped her needlework into her basket, and crept to the door. She was not a nosy person by habit, but there was something in Edward's tone that suggested this was more than an average customer. Besides, there was nothing wrong with her overseeing a business transaction, even if it was from behind the door.

She crept quietly across the floor, and stationed herself where she could see through the crevice between the door's hinges and the jamb.

At first she saw nothing truly remarkable in the front room. Only a small, skinny boy, with messy unkempt hair. He looked to be very poor. His clothes were old, and ill-fitting.

Edward turned suddenly towards the window, and exclaimed, " Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again...Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

" It was sir, yes."

Amanda put a hand to her mouth as she took in the sight of the giant figure seated in the standing in the shadow. She had never seen anything like him! He was seated, and yet nearly as tall as the window casement. His head was very wide, and half-hidden by an enormous shaggy, black beard. Despite his size he seemed uncomfortable, and rather shy.

" Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" Edward sounded a little severe.

" Er--yes, they did, yes." the giant said, appearing embarrassed. " I've still got the pieces though."

' But you don't use them?" Edward demanded, sharply.

" Oh no sir." the other said, gripping a pink umbrella that he held in one massive fist.

" Hmmm..." Edward seemed not to believe him entirely.

She knew that meant the man was using his wand illegally. Edward would not approve, but he also would not breathe a word of the crime. He would simply see it as inevitable that a person could not relinquish one of his creations!

" Well now--Mr. Potter. Let me see. " Edward said, back to his flouncy shopkeeper voice. He pulled the tape measure from his pocket, and began the next part of the ceremony. " Which is your wand arm?"

Amanda didn't watch, she was more fascinated with the giant man lurking by the window. He seemed to fill the entire shop, and she wondered who had been brave enough to snap his wand?

She listened to the familiar sound of Edward's voice, extolling the virtues of an OIlivander wand.

" Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the quite the same. And of course,you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

She thought of the Malfoy child, and wondered how well he would do in school with only a second choice wand? Her eyes were drawn to Edward as he hurried to the shelves and began digging wildly through the boxes. Running his hands over the boxes as though feeling out the wand's instructions. He took down several.

" Right then, Mr. Potter, try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

The boy gave the wand just a tiny bit. He looked very hesitant to try. She was used to the wizarding children who very enthusiastically whipped the prospective wand around in delight. This boy must be Muggleborn.

Edward took the wand back and dropped it on the counter. He thrust another into the boy's hand.

" Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try--"

No. He was not satisfied with that one either.

" No, no--here, ebony an unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches, springy.Go on, go on, try it out."

Amanda bit her lip in expectation. It was always exciting to see the wand 'work' for the first time, and she was hoping it would be the ebony. It was such a beautiful tool. She knew that he had intentionally kept the ebony wand from the Malfoy boy, he would have wanted it simply because it looked exactly like the one he had petulantly broken. Let it be the ebony...she thought.

But it was not the ebony. They continued like this for some time, Edward obviously getting a bit irritated that he had not pulled down the correct wand in his first five attempts. The counter grew cluttered with open boxes and wands scattered here and there. It would be all evening cleaning up.

One of the wands caused a glass vase, filled with decimated flowers from a hundred years ago, to shatter and splash water all over the floor.

" Tricky customer, eh?" Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere--I wonder, now--yes, why not--unusual combination--holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

The boy took the wand, looking skeptical at first, but then suddenly, his face brightened, and Amanda knew that he had felt 'it', the magic, coursing through. He raised the wand, suddenly less shy, and brought it down again with a flourish.Red and gold sparks shot from the end, lighting up the dim room.

The giant man began to carry on, excitedly, and Amanda had to resist the urge herself to begin clapping.

' Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good, Well, well, well...how curious." Edward exclaimed, as he replaced the wand in it's box, and began wrapping the package in brown paper.

" Sorry, ' said the boy, " But what's curious?"

Amanda was keen to know that as well. Though she had never witnessed him sell a holly wand, she knew it must not be that rare, and it was more than likely that the majority of the wands sold contained phoenix feathers.

" I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in this wand, gave another feather--just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand, when it's brother--why, it's brother gave you that scar."

Mr. Potter's eyes widened at that remark, and she wondered if it was calculated to have that effect.

" Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember...I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter...After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things--terrible things, yes, but great."

The boy said nothing, only stared at Edward, wide-eyed during the speech, and afterwards he paid quickly for the wand. He and his companion left without another word being spoken.

Edward leaned on the counter, and frowned, watching out the window as the pair ambulated away. He drummed his long fingers for a moment and then said. " Why don't you step on in, Amanda, I know you are there..."

His tone was not reprimanding but amused.

Just as when she was a small girl caught eavesdropping, she considered dashing back down the way, and feigning innocence. That was absurd though. Not only did her size prevent any sort of 'dashing', her decorum would not allow for it unless it was the utmost emergency.

Patting her hair into place, she stepped out, and joined Edward behind the counter. He turned to regard her a moment, but he was clearly thinking of something else, and eventually he gave his head a ragged shake as thought o clear it.

" Do you know...who that was?" he asked.

" Not specifically. " she admitted. " is it anyone important?"

" My dear, he is more than important. He is infamous. A legend before he could even speak."

" Who is he?" she asked, puzzled.

" Why, He--is the Boy -Who-Lived!"

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Lyrics-Donna Lewis

Ilex-Holly, a powerful plant that signifies death and rebirth.