solitude {open}

[amadeus]

The sleek silver fox darted out the heavy doors behind a staff member. It was well past curfew, and while Amadeus' prefect status might protect him from that, he wasn't technically allowed out of the building. And taking his fox form was about as useful as an invisibility cloak- people didn't often look down to where he was, and his paws didn't make a sound against the ground. Amadeus had never expected that being an unregistered, aspirant animgaus could be of this much use, and with how secret he had kept it... Only two people knew of his Transfiguration prowess, Natalia and Erik, and that was the way it was going to say.

Amadeus streaked through the courtyard, the nighttime air ruffling through his silken fur, and he paused before the door that opened to a staircase that went to the top of the clock tower. His keen grey eyes looked right, left, and right again, and when he was confident that he was alone, shifted back. He increased several times in size, ears and tail retracted into his body, and the fur vanished. In a second, there was a boy where the fox had been moments ago. Not wasting any time, Amadeus seized the handle on the door and let himself in, quickly and noiselessly closing the door behind him.

Amadeus took his time on the stairs, they were old, rickety, wooden things, and he knew that on a night as still as this noise from the tower would carry for ages. Thankfully, he made it to the top without stepping on any of the steps wrong, and once at the top platform became a bit more careless with how he weighted his steps. This floor was steadier, the creaks muffled whines. Needless to say, Amadeus knew this place inside and out. He'd only discovered it the first week back in school, but it had become something of a nook to him, where he went to escape from everyone else, and commonly, where he came to cut.

But Amadeus was without the razor today, nothing in the pockets of his jeans but his wand. It had been a week since he had last taken the blade to his skin, though he knew exactly where he had stashed his blade, a predictable hiding spot- between his mattress and bed frame, but it was almost genius in its simplicity. Everyone knew him to be clever, and thus someplace obvious would be the last place that they would look for something he had hidden. Amadeus sighed, sitting on the floor and examining his forearms in the moonlight streaming through the glass pane of the clock's face. In the semidarkness the wounds- ranging from a week to almost two years old- were blurry, the dark red of the grotesque, close to healed ones nearly black.

He didn't have his sleeves to hide behind, having only pulled on a t-shirt, but Amadeus was confident that he wouldn't encounter anyone. It was late, coming up on one in the morning, and the castle was asleep- whereas he was wide awake. Amadeus had battled insomnia even before Ascella's death, he was no stranger to the quiet of the middle of the night. But being alone with his thoughts... That might help. Amadeus began absently picking at one of the thick scabs on his forearm, not even wincing as he tore a chunk of it away, and caused himself to bleed again...

Amadeus tensed as he heard the door at the foot of the tower open, and footsteps more careless than his on the stairs... Not wanting to face anyone, he shifted to the fox shape, and darted through the large gears, finding a hiding spot on a platform between two of them. If he kept still, no one need know he was there... Amadeus sniffed the air, not daring to move a muscle as a shadowy figure came into view...

[natalia]

Nat twirled her finger absently around one of her curls. There had been a time when she had furiously battled tooth and nail against the raging Italian locks, but that was a long time ago. Or was it? She couldn't remember. Time passed differently in her head. And tonight was no exception. It felt as if it had been an eternity since she had kept her vigilint eyes upon the clock in the Greenhouses, sure to be where she had to be when she had to be. But time seemed silly now. Curfews were a joke, she scoffed cynically.

Hadn't she gotten away with a late night escapade in the dungeons as a second year? Nat was unfamiliar with the idea of having points taken away, or even detention. They were foreign, outlandish concepts, even now. She didn't rush as she made her way across the grounds. In fact, she couldn't even remember if she was walking at times. With the night as silent as it was, all she could do was stand, and stare at the sky she had missed. Still, she felt almost...hollow inside. All of the Healers insisted it was a psychological side effect of the suffering she had endured, and that it would fade with time. Time was a joke.

Her dark eyes were barely visible beneath her hair that was running wild and untamed on her head, blurring her vision of the scenery around her. Her eyes locked on the clock tower. She'd never been there. She'd also never been to the Whomping Willow. She brushed a curl from her face, but it made no difference in her wallowing appearance. She'd have to go exploring sometime. Why not now? That bitter voice in her head asked. She found it to be the only person she had spoken to since returning to Hogwarts. Time is a joke it reminded her in that cynical way.

Nat, barely realizing she had been standing still, staring at the tower, found her feet moving once again, although her mind was still elsewhere. Still sleeping. That was what she craved. A long, never ending rest. She was exhausted, her bones aching to the core, yet she could never sleep. When she closed her eyes, she found she was alone. In the darkness. The mere thought induced a physical shudder in her small frame. Not that it was any different than when she was awake. She was alone. At least, that's what that voice said. And lately, that voice was sounding more and more like her own.

The ancient tower creaked as she walked, although it was impossible anyone else would be here. Who would hear her? She left her books at the base of the stairs, having given up on studying. It was merely a force of habit now, as the words on the page often went blurry. She climbed steadily, almost ensuring she made as much noise as possible, the creaks echoing in the cavernous structure. She hated silence. It made her want to throw herself off the astronomy tower, it was so maddening at times. It was too soon before she reached her destination at the top, and she was already questioning why she had done this.

With a heavy sigh of resignation, she knew returning to her dorm was ridiculous. Everyone would be up talking about her while they thought she was asleep. Guessing what had happened to her. She plopped down unceremoniously, stripping off her giant sweatshirt and stretching out, face tilted towards the face of the clock. The pale moonlight flooded in, placing a haunting aura on everything she could see. She could almost feel the silence...

[amadeus]

Amadeus the fox was almost entirely still, spare for the twitching of his large, rounded ears and the flaring of his nostrils as he attempted to identify the person that had intruded on his solitude. The person wasn't a professor, he decided, from the way that their feet sounded coming up the stairs, but the scent... As soon as the figure reached the landing of the steps, he knew who it was by smell alone, Natalia. Needless to say, they had a very unique sort of bond. He had teased her mercilessly for two years, strove to make her life a living hell, but he had stopped after Ascella died.

Amadeus hadn't picked on his peers since then, almost two years ago, instead of lashing out on those around him, he punished himself. He had started the cutting the day of Ascella's funeral, it had been a wonderful way to cope with the pain. He had almost stopped at one point, when Ariadne had found out, but then she had had to be so stupid, get caught up in the battle at the school while she was on the run from the Death Eaters. Had gotten her stupid ass killed. Amadeus had felt fury combined with his sorrow that time around, an entirely foreign concept.

So he had hurt himself to quiet both the anger and pain, and still did. Now with Ariadne dead, Nat was the only person who knew of his incessant struggle, of what he did to cope with his world. But rather than kicking him while he was down, she had extended a hand to him, and although it sounded cheesy even in his head, she had become a light when his situation was at its darkest. Amadeus had inexplicably bonded to her, the girl he had once claimed to hate. They understood each other, and in a time where he felt so alone, he needed that.

Enough so to the point where when he had discovered that she was being held prisoner in his own basement, that he had done a very high-risk move, going to Erik Truelove and hatching a plan to free her. And now, here they were. The escape had been rough, owing to the damn peacocks who had discovered Erik and raised the alarm, but he'd thought fast on his feet, masquerading as a Death Eater to create enough of a diversion for them to escape.

It wasn't without cost, his elbow had been shattered, and as he couldn't ask for help without suspicion, had needed to fix it himself. He hadn't done it right, he knew that, and it still felt off, but he was fine, his arm was just a bit slower than before. Amadeus peered around one of the gears, watching Nat for a moment before deciding to make his presence known. He might not admit it, but he cared for the girl a great deal, he wanted to make sure that she was all right.

He walked out from between the gears, trying to figure out how best to get her attention without frightening her. He should probably let her know that the fox him was there before he shifted back, his sudden appearance might startle her. Keeping a few paces behind, Amadeus flicked his tail before letting out a quick bark. The sounds he made as a fox had taken some getting used to, a high-pitched, yet still throaty yelping, it had definitely been odd to hear the first time.

Though now, after spending several months growing accustomed to his Animagus ability, the sounds felt almost as natural as his human voice. Amadeus sat back on his haunches, gazing up at Nat with the sharp grey eyes that were near identical to his human ones, waiting for her to turn around.

[natalia]

Nat could feel the ice of the glass face of the tower, cool relief against her burning face. Every time her heavy eyes, weary from lack of sleep, would drift close, she would find herself jumping again, terrified of the dark that would consume her. Darkness that was far too much like that place she had been. That place had been someone's house. Someone had raised children in that place. She shuddered to imagine such a thing, a pang of understanding striking. It was odd to think of herself as empathizing with Amadeus, especially as their first meeting had sent her non-existent self esteem into a hellish spiral.

But he had saved her. Even before that. She had seen the pain he had felt, etched in his skin, and in his eyes. It was the raw feelings she had seen that made him human. More than human. He had saved her. She'd still be there. Or dead. She could only imagine what hell would have been given to him after her fleeing. She had yet to even see him since that night, and she cringed to imagine every scenario. She had never known what cruelty magic could create, until she had been at the hands of those who had raised him. She couldn't stomach what punishments might await helping her. A worthless mudblood.

She gasped as a yelp caught her attention, head swiveling at the sudden intrusion, eyes landing on a small fox. Her shoulders relaxed before it sunk in. Amadeus. She would know the silvery eyes most anywhere, she realized. Despite herself, she couldn't contain her surprise as she blurted, "Amadeus!", clasping a hand to her mouth in shock. Then she found herself incapable of any other words.

What did you say to someone you owed your life to? Literally? There were no words. She bit down on her lip, staring at the fox, as if to ensure he was here, and her consciousness wasn't tormenting her further. Pushing her to take that razor in her diary pages to her wrist, as she had imagined herself doing. Blood was comforting in a way. A reminder she was still alive. But she hadn't gone so far yet. She couldn't after she had tended Amadeus' wounds.

Her eyes skimmed over him, before she recognized the odd angle of his leg, which she assumed would be carried over in his human. "Your arm..." her eyes darted back to his silvery ones, dropping her hands. "Was that....." She still couldn't find the words. "My fault?' She whispered hoarsely, throat tightening around the thoughts.

[amadeus]

Amadeus flinched a bit when Nat jumped, he hadn't exactly been prepared for it, and his senses were much keener as the silvery grey fox- movement and sound seemed twice as strong, and smell tenfold so. He hadn't meant to startle her, but it was the gentlest option that he could think of. Amadeus' ears slightly bent back and he lowered his head a bit, as if to give an apologetic expression. While as a human he was nearly always of an entirely stoic expression, but somehow he gained the freedom to be a bit more expressive as a fox. He couldn't explain it, it was just the way he was.

Amadeus bobbed his head a little as she spoke his name, though there was hardly any need for clarification. He had just taken her by surprise was all. He ran his eyes over her carefully, looking for something, anything, that might be amiss. He knew of the hell that had been created literally beneath his feet. It was disgusting to think that the worst kinds of torture could be taking place in the cellar of his childhood home, and likely were still happening- two breakouts hadn't seemed to convince them to relocate the makeshift prison elsewhere.

Of course, Amadeus couldn't call that place home anymore, not just because of that, but because he'd been found out. His father might have killed him if he hadn't gotten away, now he couldn't go back. He would be lucky if there wasn't already a bounty on his head already. He had gone down the same path as Ariadne and Ascella, he'd betrayed them, he would be next. Amadeus shook his head when she inquired about his arm, wanting to know if it was her fault that it had happened. Yes, it had occurred during her rescue, but he wouldn't blame it on her.

It was his own fault for getting in the way. Though her comment did make his stomach knot a little, if the slightly awkward bend was noticeable in fox form, would it be as a human? Closing his eyes, Amadeus shifted back. An absent habit, he hurriedly ran his hand through his hair to make sure that the ears were gone, he had gotten stuck with them a time or two. Thankfully, his hand met only his platinum hair, his ears were his own again.

Amadeus extended his arm, there was an unnatural curvature to it, not pronounced, but if one were to really look at it... He was suddenly aware of his absence of sleeves, but Nat had already seen what he did to himself. "Um... how are you?" Amadeus asked, pale grey eyes snapping to hers.

[natalia]

There was something different about watching Amadeus in his fox form. It was as if he wasn't bound down by whatever human insecurities and laws of interacting. What was normally only visible in the recesses of his eyes was now expressed from the tip of his pointed ears to swishing tail. Nat had never gotten a chance to see an animagus in person...it was beyond fascinating; Now that she wasn't on the verge of death, she was free to let her mind wander on the workings of the magic. Her eyes darted back to his as he morphed into the stoic boy he was, forcing her to watch his eyes for any sign of emotion. If he hated her for what happened to his arm, or if he felt as lost as she did.

It was hard not to ask the question directly, feeling as if she could open her mouth and most anything could pass her lips, and he wouldn't be surprised. It was a task to remind herself that instilling such trust lead to pain and misery. She opened her mouth, as if to describe exactly how she was, but there was no words. "I'm alive," she said at last, deciding that it was the closest she could get to summarizing her exhausted state of mind. Her eyes roamed quickly over his form, the scars on his arm evident, although she couldn't pry her eyes away from the ever so slight curve of his arm. It had healed that way, and would be with him forever. Once again she opened her mouth to speak, offer some of her remedial healing abilities, although she doubted she was capable of healing anyone at this point, she couldn't even fix herself.

"How are you?" She returned the question. It was a question almost everyone seemed to pose to their acquaintances, but never did it have so much meaning and concern before. She could only imagine what they had done to him...because of her. She ran a hand through her thick curls, which simply fell back in her face. The grungy style had been fitting these past few days, masking her unsightly pale skin, or as pale as olive could get, which was surprisingly pale. It wasn't like she had been too worried on three meals a day recently, when she found herself wasting her days in the Green Houses, trying to lose herself in the books as she had used to.

[amadeus]

Amadeus shifted a bit on his feet, he felt suddenly exposed without his robes to hide behind, even though it was dim and it would be difficult to see the sheer extent of the damage he had inflicted upon himself. He was probably worse since the last time she had seen his arms, though he didn't feel the same shame that he used to. Natalia understood, unlike anybody else ever would. Hayley, who had used to be his best friend, had completely freaked out, started crying. But Nat- it was as if she knew. Knew that it was something he had needed to do, it was a crutch in the same way that some might turn to alcohol or cigarettes.

At least this way he wouldn't harm his judgement, hurting himself had no effect on anyone else. It was an odd way of thinking for Amadeus, he had spent the first thirteen years of his life not giving a damn, just doing as he pleased regardless of who he hurt, but now... He didn't want to have effect over anyone but himself. He was conscious of the things that he did, more so than he ever used to be. And with his recent predicament... Amadeus couldn't see a way out on his own, and he hated it, enough to the point where he'd again consider dying.

He'd been there before, but now there were no longer any reservations, he could likely actually go through it. Honestly, he probably didn't have much time left after betraying the Death Eaters, and he knew what a gesture like that would do to someone like Jezebel. She was a prideful creature, she'd hate that it hadn't been her or one of her men to end his existence. It would be his last act of defiance. Amadeus only nodded at her response, at least it was truth.

The simple question was quickly returned to him, it carried more weight than the casual exchanges for the sake of pleasantries, for them the question actually meant something. Though he could accurately gauge his own feelings, translating them into words was a more difficult task. Amadeus dragged his hand through his hair again, blowing out a quiet sigh. Was he really allowed to be this low when the young woman across from him had been through much worse? Most of his damage had been done by himself.

It was even his fault that Draco had snapped, tortured, and tried to kill him- if he hadn't saved Nat, none of it would have happened. But Amadeus couldn't have left her there, now it felt she was his only ally, the only person who could even begin to relate to him. "Alive," Amadeus returned, the single word seemed the most appropriate.

[natalia]

Nat looked at Amadeus, and she felt as if she might cry. His somber look was as quiet as the grave, and she wondered if it reflected what was inside. She wished she could be that way, only have silence in her mind, which played the feelings and images over and over. Worst of all was the sound of her own screams, how weak she had been; How weak she was. She was envious of him, as if he had already experienced the peacefulness of death she found filling her mind, although she knew it wouldn't come. She was even too weak to make a decision whether to live or die. She simply existed.

Alive

For some reason, the repetition of her answer made her lips twitch into somewhat of a half-smile. Alive. It didn't look like it, although she wasn't one to talk. She was sure she was as disheveled and unsightly as she had been in the cellar of the dystopian manor. She leaned her head back against a wooden pillar, the rough, sinewy wood scraping against her scalp in a nearly painful way, although she didn't mind it. It seemed to scratch an itch she hadn't even known was there. All the while, her eyes remained trained on Amadeus, as if terrified he might vanish before her eyes, some strangely personified darkness swallow him whole.

Yes, he was alive, she reminded herself. A constant factor in her life, one that she had come to feel was almost a balance for her shaking self. She bit her lip, wondering how to even begin to thank him for everything he had done. There were no words to express the depths of gratitude that consumed her every time she thought of him. Nat was awful with words. She scooted over, sitting herself next to Amadeus wordlessly, her heavy head sinking against his shoulder, which was surprisingly comfortable. She had never been a physical person either, but she was sure if she tried to thank him, her already trembling form would break from the strain to express such a deep feeling.

"Do they know?" She asked quietly, a slight realization of dread filling her. What if Amadeus would be dead next term? Or even this week? She hadn't forgotten the body of his sister being found, or the funeral. How could she bear it if this last solid thing in her life was gone? If the only one that seemed to have pushed past the boundary into her world was dead, because of her? Nat realized that if he were to go....she would miss him. Her years of cynical people-watching had left her emotionally detached, unsure why they needed to touch and hug, or how they could "miss" a friend, when they had others. She lifted her head from his shoulder, looking up at him with baited breath, as if the reality of his situation had just hit her, and it felt as awful as hers.

[/size]

[amadeus]

Amadeus examined Nat carefully, he didn't know what he was looking for, signs of life? Recovery? After what she had been through he doubted that she would ever be the same person, and it was disheartening. She had used to have such fight in her- it had been only a brief time between when she would simply take the bullying he had used to ditch out on him and now- but then Amadeus had felt like that was who she was supposed to be. But life had taken that away from her, just as it had taken it from him, neither of them would be the same.

Amadeus lightly drew his knees up to his chest, the position of his arms around his legs putting them in the full beams of light pouring in through the glass clock face. The night was unusually clear, not a single cloud... Amadeus looked at his exposed flesh, the marks that continued up his arms, to his shoulders and torso, down to his legs... He thought vaguely on making two final cuts, right over his wrists, then whatever hollow, yet still painful existence he had could be done with before the Death Eaters did it for him. Amadeus had been in that spot before, but he had backed out, unable to commit, he felt he was ready now.

Amadeus was vaguely surprised when Nat sat beside him and laid her head on his shoulder, but he didn't reject the gesture. For so long he had been alienated entirely from touch- he'd never been fond of physical contact before, but this was nice. Almost reassuring in a way. It had been a long time since he had felt that sort of comfort... Subconsciously, he tipped his head to lightly rest it atop hers, but he left it at that, keeping his arms wrapped around his legs.

His throat tightened if she asked if they knew. Amadeus wanted to lie, say that it had been pulled off seamlessly, that the only person who would harm him was himself, but he couldn't. He actually wasn't sure if he even had the capacity to lie anymore. But Amadeus didn't want Nat to worry herself about him, he had been gone before he even broke her out of her prison, there hadn't even been hope then, and now it was almost futile. He'd put the last nail in his coffin, and now all he had to do was wait for his time to run out...

But if he were to lie, she'd catch on in an instant. "Yeah," Amadeus said simply, though the word was heavy. Not mournful, just weighted. Though honestly, it was worth it. The act of rescuing Natalia had allowed him to feel alive for one last time, had given him something to live for, if only for a while, and now he could go. Amadeus had entertained the idea of running away from the school, so as not to put any innocent people in the line of fire again, though lately he had to wonder if he wouldn't just come back here some night, let himself bleed out...

[natalia]

Nat's vigilant watch of his actions included the glimpses of the scars, numerous and consuming. She was sure there was more red than there was sickly pale skin. Her concentration, however, was broken, when she felt the touch of his head to hers, returning the gesture that seemed so foreign, yet felt so natural. For once, she didn't want to analyze why something was happening or what affect it had. She was content to only revel in the sudden feeling of calm that seemed to seep through her. She was almost...content.

With one hand she reached out, finger barely skimming over his scars, careful to be gentle as she did so; Both for the physical and mental factor of it. Her fingers continued their absent tracing, as if she could read the story of the pain that had bombarded his life. Know this one must have been one of angry pain, while that one was done with a hollow feeling aching inside. All she wished she could do was make them vanish. Show him that it could be okay again. Show herself it could be okay again. But she was nothing more than a hypocrite, with her own thoughts spiraling downwards into a dark abyss that seemed to resemble that cellar she had been locked in.

Yeah

That answer she had waited for with baited breath brought all of her to a stand still. Ice seemed to pump through her veins as her mind began to process that. The implications of such a thing. She bit down on her already chewed lip, her eyes trained on the rough floorboards, nails gleaming in the pale moonlight that flooded their secret space. She lifted her eyes, unsure what to say. What could you say to someone who was going to die? Someone who was going to do for you? "Amadeus...I'm so sorry,"

[/color] she began, but her tight throat clenched shut, warning her that the next words she choked out would be ones filled with tears.

Was there anything else to say? What was she supposed to say? She couldn't fathom it. He would be gone. The first person to cross into his solitary world, the first person to be...a friend. She wasn't going to let it happen. The threat of tears quickly subsided as she wiped at the stray tear that had begun to trickle down her icy cheek. She straightened up, turning so she was facing him. "Come stay with me," it wasn't a question. It was somewhat close to a demand, or as close as someone as subservient as Nat had come so far in her young life. This wasn't some mere hope she was going to build up for herself or for him. She was going to make it happen, just as he had saved her.

"It's perfect!"[/color] She continued, the first trickle of emotion echoing in her voice after what felt like centuries. It almost hurt, but she was too excited to analyze it or even acknowledge it. He would live. She would live. They could win. "We live as under the radar as you can get, in a muggle neighborhood in the middle of nowhere. Two order members live there, meaning you're more than safe. They won't find you! Erik could never say no to that...he said so himself, that he owes you his life. It's brilliant!" She cried happily, clutching his cold hand in her own, which weren't much warmer as she wrapped both hands around his. She looked up into his eyes hopefully, knowing his true feelings could only be seen there. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[amadeus]

Amadeus allowed the silence to lapse a moment, simply allowing himself to have the contact with Natalia. It wasn't anything that could be counted as beyond innocent, but for whatever reason the act of resting their heads together did something for him. Perhaps it was because he had been alienated from touch for so long, he couldn't remember the last time he had been in this sort of proximity to another person. The most recent he could recall was the rather emotional afternoon that he had spent with Ariadne before she died- where she had figured out that he was harming himself, after he had yelled at her for being stupid enough to think that she could run away from the Death Eaters.

Honestly, he had been terrified, but at the same time he had known that day in the country kitchen that his sister was marked for death, that she didn't have much time left. Amadeus did have to wonder, what she had even been doing at Hogwarts on the day of the attack, and if she hadn't had the world's worst timing, if she would still be alive- on the run, still able to be something of an outlet for him, like a lifeline. Though it was useless to dwell on such things, nothing could truly bring back the dead.

Amadeus' gaze flickered to Nat's hand as she began to trace over his scars- her lithe healer's fingers hardly touching the ghosts of his old wounds. That, at least, was something the Death Eaters had been unable to break of her, her gentleness. She might be damaged, a mere shell of her former self, but she still had that. Amadeus didn't have the heart to pull his arm away, even if it felt strange, to have someone so close as to touch the marks he had put on his skin.

Amadeus had to look away, however, as she apologized with tears in her eyes. It wasn't her fault. There wasn't really anyone at fault- couldn't she see that his helping her escape had been what had kept him alive that summer? Of course, nobody knew just how close he had been to the very end, how close he still was. Though her tone quickly changed, in the course of about two seconds everything about her demeanour did, he could sense, almost... excitement.

It was the first real emotion he had seen of her, he hadn't known she would have it in her. But all the same, he was hesitant. Did she know how much danger he would put her in? Though logic did dictate that she, Erik, and Elliot were all marked for death anyway, though they were lower on the totem pole than a traitor. They would have more time if they weren't associated with him. Amadeus might not have known enough to avoid getting caught, but he was confident enough in his knowledge of how the Death Eaters worked.

Plus her offer meant that his existence might be a little more permanent... Amadeus didn't honestly know what he was planning, he had simply viewed killing himself as the best solution to make sure no one else would get hurt, and that his own suffering would end... But now, could he really justify taking himself away from Natalia when she needed him most? Amadeus only then noticed her hands around one of his, and he absently placed his free one atop the tangle of fingers. He was torn. "Nat, I couldn't put you all in danger like that," Amadeus said lightly, though he figured his argument was likely futile, Natalia was clever, she probably knew already...

[natalia]

Nat felt her heart stop as he looked away, shamefully swiping away at her own tears. She'd become so weak, so broken, that she couldn't even contain her emotions anymore. When she furiously dashed the last away, that burning lump was still raging in her throat, threatening that if she open her mouth, more would spill out. If she were to truly start crying, something she hadn't done since those nights in the cellar, she wasn't sure she could ever stop. The look on Amadeus' face when she apologized, the one so hurt at her own weakness, was even more of a threat than her raging hormones had been. There were no words to sum up the situation they had found themselves in. A situation in which she had been only a kid, focused on staying top of her class, reading books, and feeling like she knew everything. She had been forced to grow up; She had seen a glimpse of the world she couldn't even have imagined existed. No one could be blamed for the horrors...and yet, all she could think was it was her own fault.

But there was a way she could fix it. She could not only return the favor, but prove that there was reason to live. It was something they both needed, his eyes reflecting her own dismal despair. But he could live...and that was the most important thing. He could truly live. Nat hadn't been friends with Amadeus for long, but she could only imagine growing up in such a house...with such people. When she had thought her birth family had been awful...Amadeus deserved a family. Erik had given her that....and Elliot had only brightened her world even further. They could do the same for Amadeus...Couldn't they?

Her mind was racing at a lightning speed she had managed in quite sometime. Already she was formulating plans...how to propose his to Erik. Where could he sleep? What were the actual chances of their being found? It had yet to happen. The war Erik and Elliot spoke of had always seemed so far away, until she had found herself in that cellar, unsure whether it was night or day. Being returned home only restored that haven.

Nat, I couldn't put you all in danger like that

She paused, eyes meeting his silvery ones. That wasn't true. She could see the slight hesitation there...he wasn't fully committed to what he was saying. It was almost like looking into a mirror and reading her own expression. She felt his cold hand cover hers and she flipped hers so she was holding both his hands. She squeezed gently, her olive Italian skin have almos faded to a color that was close to his own. Her eyes lifted up again, and she offered a smile. It felt odd. She was exercising muscles she hadn't used in Lord knows how long.

"Amadeus, there are no words that can tell you how thankful I am," Already she was sure she had said more to Amadeus today than she had said to anybody since returning to school. "I'm alive, because of you. And there was a reason why you fought for my life...you think it's valuable. It's as valuable as yours," she squeezed his hands once again, as if to stress the absolute truth in that statement. "What you did is one of the most beautiful acts of human nature I've ever seen. You're smart, talented...and you're kind. You're going to do great things one day," she paused, realizing how much her cheeks hurt from smiling, barely registering the tears that trickled down her face, incapable of being stopped. She'd never been so open with someone about her thoughts...it had never felt safe to tell anyone what she thought.

"I'd do anything to see that day," she whispered, watching his eyes.

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[amadeus]

Amadeus felt something stab through his numbness, an undeniable surge of unfamiliar emotion, all sorts of things that he was unsure of what to do with. He had been so numb for so long... Amadeus felt like he hadn't been truly alive since before Ascella had died, though completely shutting down, he had been able to look back and see just how stupid he had been back then, just how positively irksome, he didn't know how anybody had put up with him. Reflecting on the way he had used to act, it almost made him feel sick. Holding his father in such high regard, wanting to be just like the man he looked so much alike.

He had valued the Death Eaters, had been so eager to join up with them. He had been foolish, poisoned by what Draco had told him, been filled with the man's biases, his loathing nature, the utter hatred that sparked people to do such terrible things... Amadeus knew what they did now, they served only to invoke terror in the world, tear apart families, cause so much pain and despair... And it had taken until his sister had been murdered in cold blood to open his eyes, and after recovering from the initial shock, he had been entirely disgusted.

Amadeus bit his lip lightly, the silence was beginning to drag out, or perhaps it only felt that way- time seemed to inch at a snail's pace when one was wide awake at an hour when most were slumbering soundly. A quick glance at the inside of the clock's face and translating the backward image told him it was quarter past one. Amadeus vaguely watched the second hand of the clock tick, its jerky movements seemed like it would generate noise, though it moved without a sound, merely ran around the face of the clock in a perpetual circle.

The gears on the inside of the tower, weren't entirely silent, they filled the quiet with their metallic clicking and clanking. They had become almost a noise of comfort for Amadeus, he really did like it up here. It was high up, secluded, with just the right amount of white noise to allow himself to zone out when he needed, or when it was necessary, to think deeply. Amadeus had been doing more and more of the thinking bit of late, pondering what he was going to do with himself.

Amadeus looked down at their hands as Natalia manipulated hers so she was holding both of his, and that was where his gaze stayed as she spoke. Her words had an unfamiliar effect on him, he wasn't used to hearing those sorts of things, genuine gratitude... Amadeus only then realised with a sinking feeling that rescuing Nat was probably the only thing he had done in his life that was worthy of thanks, for so long he'd been absorbed with himself, not giving a damn about anyone else and their needs, only what he could do to better himself, and make everyone else's situation worse.

It was pitiful. Though at the same time her speech was vaguely empowering, it reached beyond his stony barriers, reaching a level of his heart that had likely never seen true compassion, she had struck a nerve, not in a bad way, but she had woken him up. Amadeus knew right then for sure that he couldn't kill himself- just as she had been his light in the darkness, he was hers, he couldn't remove himself from this world now, she still needed him.

Tears swam in his vision, though he fought them back, he refused to cry. Amadeus returned her squeezing his hands, as if searching for some confirmation that this was real. He wished he could articulate what he felt into words, but everything he came up with was inadequate. Slowly, he met her eyes with his own watery ones. "Then you'll see it," Amadeus said quietly, his words were weak, but at the same time, firm. She might not have known his intentions, or that she had just changed them, but he would be around, he wasn't going anywhere.