| THIRTY: THE BELLS RING

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CHAPTER THIRTY

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CHAPTER THIRTY.
THE BELLS RING

            There was Hermione, back against the wall, sitting on one of three beds on the attic with a book in hand, reading aloud the words of Shakespeare. In her lap was the head of Amandla, who had her eyes closed and was listening to the intoxicating words that left Hermione's mouth with a content smile and allowed herself to do one impossible thing; relax.

         Her hand was swollen ever so slightly, but she could now manage to cast spells. And the guilt weighing in her heart was still there but didn't seem to be so loud in that moment, with Hermione speaking over her. Harry Potter was safe (yay) and the Burrow was still a mad house. With a wedding about to commence, the bride and her mother-in-law were frantic, always running around the place and making sure everything was going to be perfect. Amandla knew at that moment they were setting up the tent, since the ceremony would be later today.

         But now it was time to relax, to let go, and have a moment of peace before everything.

         "These violet delights have violent ends
          And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
          Which, as they kiss, consume."

         The words glided from Hermione's mouth so effortlessly, and even though Amandla had heard this story so many times, it sounded so new coming from her. It was foreign and magical and she never wanted the moment to end. For to gaze upon the beauty of this girl and hear her soothing voice, much like honey, was heaven. A heaven she always wanted to reach but was always so far away. Yet, here she was, there for the taking right above her. So she did, and it was magnificent.

         Amandla looked at her own nails. They were painted a light pink, which matched her dress. She wasn't a fan of the color, at least not the biggest, but when Hermione told her how pretty she looked, her knees buckled and she bought it immediately. Just to hear one compliment come from the girl that would be directed towards her was worth anything.

         "I don't think you're even listening anymore," Hermione teased, causing Amandla's eyes to flutter open.

         She blushed, "I am...a little. Okay, I was focusing on your voice more than anything."

         Hermione sighed, "You know, if you didn't like Shakespeare, you could've just said so. We didn't have to do this."

         "No! I mean, I do like Shakespeare. Cevira used to read Romeo and Juliet to be all the time. I loved it – I do, but I just like hearing your voice more. It's calming, almost put me to sleep."

         The Granger girl gave a kind smile and Amandla wanted to melt it was so beautiful. "Awe, but we can't have that. There's a wedding later and it would be a shame if you missed it."

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