Coral

If I were a carpenter,

And you were a lady,

Would you marry me anyway?

Would you have my baby?--



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For the next few weeks, Harry Potter was all anyone seemed to want to talk about. Somehow, everyone managed to know something about him. The news of his \'return\' had spread faster than a case of Dragon Pox, and persons who had chanced to meet him in the pub were soon gossiping in the streets. People who had seen the famed scar were soon exaggerating the experience.



A woman who called herself Doris Crockford popped into every shop and cafe along the way, excitedly telling people about how she had personally shaken the hand of the Boy-Who-Lived. The number of times she had achieved this miraculous feat seemed to increase slightly as she progressed down the street. Four times was the number she told the man standing outside of Eyelop\'s, but by the time she had reached Ollivander\'s, she had shaken Harry\'s hand a dozen times.



Amanda, after learning everything about the boy and the death of his parents and the dark wizard, Voldemort, soon lost most of her interest. To her, it seemed that that the event must have been a magical accident.



She might even have thought it was the fault of the wand that had been used, if she did not know the quality of Ollivander wands. Now, the wand may have been damaged in some manner, that sort of thing caused wands to behave strangely all the time.



But to even suggest such a thing would no doubt cause a rise of indignation in Edward, whose only reason for being interested in the deaths of James and Lily Potter was the great part his wands had played. On both sides.



Amanda had never extracted from him a definite answer about his loyalties during that time, the best she could assume was that he had been passively neutral with a penchant for flamboyant wand work, regardless of the circumstance during which it was achieved.



Neither could she say for certain what side he was willing to take in the future. She was loathe to think where she herself stood, or where she would stand if she had been fortunate enough to be born as a true Witch. Considering the more lenient view that Eloise and her mother took on the issues of Purebloods and Halfbloods, she imagined that had she been raised here, she too would have been less prejudiced, and perhaps less diffident. Perhaps.



Before long, she discovered that how a person felt about an insurrection that occurred eleven years ago, was unimportant in comparison to how those same persons felt about the return of Harry Potter.



Eloise chose to be thoughtful, and not too excited about the event. She, Winter, and Edward seemed to find something utterly disturbing in the reappearance of the Boy-Who-Lived. When Stella inquired into this, Eloise only answered,



" We can expect things to begin happening once more. Terrible things."



" That\'s almost exactly what Edward said." Amanda had stated.



Winter and Eloise had only nodded at her.



" Yes." they agreed glumly.



" Our world might very well being on the edge of doom. Just waiting for the wrong Wizard to nudge it over."



That was Eloise\'s final word on Harry Potter.



-------------------------



Amanda did not have much time to ponder this prophecy of despair. She had developed the urge to ensure that her house was immaculate, and was satisfied with no less than two thorough cleanings per day.



The shop as well, was cleaned and dusted, much to Edward\'s dismay. He followed her around constantly, fretting about her falling, or exerting herself too much.



To her own surprise, she felt fine and adventuresome, brave in her belief, and Healer Thoroughgood\'s word that everything about her was perfect. She gained ten pounds, and Edward lost twice the amount, which was twenty pounds more than he had to spare.



By the end of August the rest of the children began coming for their wands, rushed into the shop by procrastinating parents who dared to look harried and impatient when it took too long to fit the child with a wand.



Many of them kept glancing at watches, or moon calendars, as if the first day of school were going to approach them stealthily if they did not keep a constant eye on it. It was delightful to see the children\'s faces though; some shy, some awed, some knowledgeable and expectant, as they were measured and tested, and finally fitted with their own wand.



" That is why I do not retire." Edward stated one afternoon, as a particularly exultant young girl with bushy hair left the shop, clutching her wand box to her chest as though it contained Cleopatra\'s jewels.



The girl had given them both an hour long lecture on wands, and had delighted Edward by knowing the entire history of Ollivander\'s, including some details even he had misplaced.



" What a bright girl." Amanda had agreed. " She will no doubt go far, with that mind."



It was obvious the girl was a Muggle. Her parents stood huddled by the shop door, the mother\'s hand on the father\'s arm as if restraining him form seizing up his daughter and fleeing back to reality.



The girl had not only a list of things she would need to purchase for the school year, but also a list of things and people she had read about, and needed to see while in Diagon Alley.



" How do they know so much before they get to school?" Amanda mused at Edward.



" I imagine that the Headmaster, or maybe someone from the Ministry, notifies them earlier than other students, and supplies them with the proper literature. One can only imagine how unsuspecting parents would act..."



Amanda, recalling her own outright disbelief when her mother explained, gave a slight nod.



" I wonder if there are any Muggle children who do not get to come?"



" Oh, assuredly. There are always parents who refuse." he sighed. " I\'ve seen them get so far as Flourish and Blotts, and then suddenly decided that it\'s all much too questionable and dangerous. They demand their guide take them back, and the children are simply never seen here again."



" Well, I believe Ms. Granger will keep her parents convinced of the positive aspects."



" Oh yes. A true delight. There is nothing quite so refreshing in this tired world as a bright, inquisitive child. I winder if she\'ll be the last for the year? It seems that enrollment is off this year. Not so many as last year, or heavens, the year before! There must have been three hundred!"



Of course, that is why the Ministry stepped in with it\'s blasted law...they both thought.



Enrollment.



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That afternoon, as she was sweeping the pavement in front of the shop, she watched what must be a first year boy approach the shop. He looked up at the sign longingly, and then pressed his round, kind, face to the window.



" We\'re still open, if you would like to go in." she stated, startling him. He turned to her and smiled shyly.



" Oh...well I can\'t. I mean, I don\'t need a wand. I...I\'m supposed to use my father\'s wand."



Amanda could just imagine Edward\'s words at such a statement.



" Are you sure? " She asked, softly. " I\'ve heard that it is better to have one\'s own wand."



The boy blushed.



" I wish I could." he said. " But my Gran...well, she wants me to use my father\'s wand."



" I see. " she smiled. She felt sorry for him; he obviously wanted nothing more than to enter the shop like the other children and have his own wand made. " Well, I am sure your father\'s wand is very good too. You\'ll do just fine with it."



He looked up at her hopefully.



" Do you think so?"



" Of course."



" Neville? NE-ville? Oh there you are!"



From across the street the loud and demanding voice of a green-robed woman reached their ears, causing the boy to wince slightly. He watched as the woman marched across the street, the absurd stuffed vulture on her hat bobbing madly with her every step.



" What are you doing over here?" she asked, out of breath. " And are you worrying this woman? Can\'t you see she is in no condition to be worried?"



" I was just looking in the shops." he said.



" Good afternoon." Amanda offered, smiling at what must be the boy\'s grandmother.



The woman nodded her head, not in an un-friendly manner. She seemed to be a little flustered, but not unkind.



" Good afternoon. Isn\'t it a close crowd today, though? He wasn\'t worrying you? Well, come along Neville, we still have to buy a cauldron." she gave another nod to Amanda, sweeping her with the obvious gaze of a gossipy woman who was unsure to whom she was speaking.



Neville said goodbye, and followed his grandmother down the street.



Amanda raised her hand to the boy, and suddenly the baby began kicking so frantically, that she had to rest against the wall for a moment, surprised. It was the first time in weeks that she had felt anything more than a few weak flutters or lazy jabs.



" Is anything the matter? " she heard Edward\'s voice at her shoulder. A look of glowing concern was easily stamped across his weary features.



She smiled.



" Not at all. Just resting a moment."



He took her arm.



" Let\'s go inside to do that. You\'ve been on your feet all day." he led her in and summoned her chair. " Was that Augusta Longbottom I saw out the window?"



" I don\'t know. She wore a hat with...well, with a stuffed vulture on top."



" Ah, yes. That was her. Did she have the boy with her?"



" Yes she did, but--"



" She isn\'t going to bring him in, is she? She is so unbearably stubborn! Fir! I remember. Fir, eleven and one quarter inches, with dragon heartstring at the core. Stubborn! "



" You know her then?" she asked, partially teasing.



" Everyone knows Augusta. Or rather, Augusta makes herself known to everyone. Yes, she lost her son, and his wife to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, eleven years ago. They were Aurors, and from what people said, good ones. Good, but not good enough, sadly. "



" The boy is an orphan then."



" Not exactly. His parents are in St.Mungo\'s. Addled by too many curses, I believe. "



Amanda thought of her uncle Rogero. If they had been there for eleven years, then they would never be leaving. That, perhaps, explained the lady\'s determination that her grandson would carry his father\'s wand, and even more so the look of stoic complacency that Neville bore.



" He said he was going to use his father\'s wand."



Edward winced visibly.



" After her son was attacked, Augusta brought his wand in to be examined. She wanted to know whether or not it was still functional. It was, of course. But she told me then that she wanted to be certain, because she intended to give it to the boy. I tried to argue her out of it. " he looked worried.



" Using a cast off wand, unless it is under specific circumstances, is dangerous. It could be said to account for nearly a third of all the accidents that occur. I had hoped that she would change her mind in the intervening years, if only for his sake. He\'ll never be up to par in his lessons with a shoddy second-hand wand. They never are."



He frowned, thinking of the youngest Weasley son, who had just been denied the same pleasure, and was using a brother\'s wand for his first year. What a devastating way to begin, he thought. Devastating!



It wasn\'t as thought he didn\'t understand that large families and their sometimes meager savings; he offered payment options, but to the Weasley\'s, cheerful as they were, it was too much like charity and they had stubbornly refused. Stubborn. Why must he be surrounded by stubborn people?



" What are the specific circumstances in which it can be used?" Amanda asked, rubbing her belly where the baby was still actively attacking. She wondered if perhaps it had not had a nightmare.



Edward was happy to answer.



" Well, any Wizard can take up a wand and use it--something will happen. It is usually not strong or predictable. But if a Wizard wins a wand, then he, or she, can use that wand as though it were their own. In essence it becomes their own, turning over it\'s power."



" Win in battle?"



" No, in anything, even a petty school skirmish.\'\'



" Does it have to be death, or merely disarming?"



" Interesting you should ask. That question is still under much debate; I was speaking to another Wandmaker about it in Radom. My own theory is that in the past, it had to be an utter defeat, simply because wands were made with the expectation that people would duel, and die. Now, when it is considered is such poor taste to kill your opponent, regardless of how serious the situation...the wand simply accepts a disarm. The owner\'s mentality, as well as the maker\'s, and society\'s must have an influence. I\'ve heard it told that some Wizards can even win them in gambling debts.\'\'



" Edward?"



" Yes?"



" From what wood is your wand made?"



He looked surprised, and rather delighted that she had asked.



" Why, it\'s walnut." he answered, and drew it from his pocket for her inspection, realizing she had most likely never had a good look at it. She took it carefully. It was heavier than her own, and longer. It had been meticulously cared for, but even so, it showed the signs of many years of daily handling. The handle was polished smooth, and slightly darker than the length, caused by years of contact with skin oils.



A few shallow marks, scratches and what looked ot be one slight gouge, lent it a personality of it\'s own. She noticed that the gouge was rather triangular, with a feathery scratch veining out from it and leading around the decorative lip beneath the quillon, dividing handle from wand. It was built for practicality, no fancy ornamentation or carving augmented it\'s straight body.



Though she felt no magic in it herself, it was comfortably warm and exuded a sort of familiarity. Amanda was reminded of the day the house had recognized her, and she placed it back in his palm with a smile of contentment.



" It feels good." she stated honestly. " Who made it?"



" My father. Just as his father made his, and I intend to make hers." he indicated Amanda\'s midsection with a nod.



" As is only fitting." she agreed, wincing a little as the unborn child attempted a somersault, and as a result, connected with her ribs.



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Later that evening, after they had eaten dinner, they sat in the library on the sofa. It was still too warm for a fire, but Edward had started a small one just the same, before settling down to read aloud from \' The Old Curiosity Shop\'.



They were to have no peace though as the baby, once deciding to move, had decided to continue, and eventually this tired Amanda to the point where she had to lie down.The next morning, she was too tired and sore to leave the house, so Stella came over to sit with her.



" You\'ll be having that one soon." she predicted. " I say...the day after tomorrow. August the 29th."



Amanda shook her head.



" Absolutely not. It\'s not until the eighteenth of September."



Stella looked at her skeptically.



" I wouldn\'t count on that, if I were you." and she Flooed Amele, who agreed that it would not be too long. Amele helped \'ease\' Amanda\'s fears by relating her own experiences with birthing, none of which had been shorter than three days.



" You are probably closer than you think, yes?" she laughed. Amanda refused to believe it was so, and the twenty-ninth of August passed without any excitement. Stella sniffed at her lost prediction.



September began.



The children of the Wizarding world went to school.



On the sixth of September, an owl delivered the Daily Prophet, which delivered the news that someone, ( or as was possible in the world of magic, something) had broken into Gringott\'s bank on July 31\'st.



This caused a great deal of unease with the bank\'s many patrons, Gringott\'s was supposed to be virtually impregnable; no living person had ever heard of someone cunning enough to deceive the goblins, and people began to speculate that their embarrassment might have been partly responsible for the delay in publishing the article.



Edward and Eloise were not the sort to care whether or not the goblins were embarrassed. They were irritated that they had not been informed sooner. After the article\'s printing, the bank warned everyone that if they rushed in, they would lock the doors against them.



" Everyone is urged to come in an orderly fashion." they had written.



" Three hundred years." Eloise had called through the Floo, on the eighth. " Three hundred years, that\'s how long the Rookwood\'s have graced Gringott\'s with our business, and this is how they repay us?"



The unexpected arrival of her angered face in the fireplace had contrasted well with Edward\'s seemingly calm, thoughtful exterior as he buttoned the cuffs on a set of outer-robes.



" I am going there, momentarily." he said. " Will you accompany me?"



" I\'ve been. " she stated flatly. With a wave of her hand, it was understood that she did not have a gleeful meeting there.



" Is Stella there with you?"



" I\'m sure she is...yes. Just here."



" Have her step through and wait with Amanda."



Now that the Amanda\'s time was approaching, he had not suffered her to a moment\'s peace without supervision of any sort. She was, in his opinion, very drawn, and she tired easily. This was true, and she had decided that in her present state, she was too ungainly to attempt the staircase more than necessary. Therefore, everything she needed was upstairs when she was down, and downstairs when she was up. What she wouldn\'t have given to be able to use summoning charms!



" She says that she will be along within a half hour. " Eloise said. Then seeing his look of exasperation, she tilted her head and shook it in mock sympathy. " Just a half hour. Surely Amanda can survive for only one half hour. I\'ll lie here in grave discomfort...on the cold hard floor, and keep an eye on her."



" Do not trouble yourself madame." he replied. " Stella can come at her leisure." and under a wave of his hand the fire,and Eloise\'s grinning face disappeared.



With only slightly noticeable trepidation, he kissed his wife, and left her reclining on the swan chaise with her feet propped, so that he could check over their holdings, which, though his business was successful and well respected, was not a glorious amount of money.



Certainly not enough that they shouldn\'t worry over thieves despite the goblin\'s reassurances that only one vault had been opened. Edward mentioned something about withdrawing a certain sum and placing it in another bank; against any future mishap.



After he had gone, in his flutter of burgundy robes, Amanda gladly lay back and closed her eyes. She hadn\'t been sleeping well the past few nights, the bed no longer seemed large enough or soft enough. As she dozed she wondered why someone would wish to break into an empty vault when there were plenty containing gold, jewels, and a priceless amount of treasures and heirlooms.



She had a dream then, in which the she was riding the cart at the bank, and she was terrified and cold. At the end of the track, instead of a vault, she was in a small room with pink curtains. Everyone was there, and they told her that she had to smile. Then her mother stood up and said that the ride was over.



" ...let you sleep on that couch. Your legs are going to fall asleep." her mother\'s lips were not moving.



" That\'s funny." Amanda answered her.



" Wake up. Come on." Stella shook her shoulder gently. " At least go lie down on the library sofa, so your legs won\'t dangle. You know what your Grandmother Garret would have said."



Amanda blinked awake.



" I was dreaming that our vault had pink curtains." she stated.



Stella smiled.



" That\'s revolting."



" Vault decorating! That could be the newest trend, Estella! " Winter exclaimed, stepping from the Floo behind her daughter. " I could convince all the wealthiest Witches Narcissa Malfoy even! Oh..." she halted her babble to look down on Amanda\'s dress.



" Is that...green, my dear?"



\'\' It looks more yellow to me." Stella said. She took up a handful of the cool, satiny-knit skirt.



" Yellow-grey-green."



" It\'s crawling with pomegranates."



" It\'s comfortable." Amanda insisted. She sat up, and rubbed her lower back.



" And that couch was never so uncomfortable." she noted, stretching. Winter and Stella were bickering over something in a shopping bag.



" What is it?" Amanda asked, swinging her legs so that her bare feet could rest on the floor.



Winter hastily closed the bag.



" Something for your Aunt Eloise."



" Her birthday present?" Amanda smiled, mischievously.



Winter tossed her head.



"I had to buy a new one. She found the last one. "



" She did! Well, it was bound to happen."



" Well, actually she finagled that horrid Philo Fenwicke into finding it for her. "



" I thought you liked Philo."



" Not if he is going to be that way. What is it, dear?"



Amanda rolled her shoulders, and grimaced.



" I don\'t know. " she answered. " All stiff, I suppose, for sleeping here. "



She slapped a hand against the coral fabric before taking two attempts to get to her feet.



" I feel all...



Her eyes widened, and she sat down quite suddenly.



" Oh, mother..." she said, in quiet astonishment. " I think I am going to have the baby!



There was the sound of something breaking as the shopping bag fell from Stella\'s hand.



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Author\'s Note:



Hmmm... evil grin should I continue the story, or just...leave it?



Footnotes:



The Old Curiosity Shop-A novel by Charles Dickens