comes & goes

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“Glad to have you all the same, love.” Molly said softly as she pulled Amelia into a tight hug. “How are you doing? Weird thing to ask at a funeral I know, but I’m at a loss for what else to do.” Molly admitted with a soft laugh. “So— I wish I was seeing you under better circumstances, but I still am glad to see you.” She rambled on.

It did take a tragedy, sometimes, to bring two people together. Amelia was realizing it more and more as she grew up. She was also realizing people didn’t drift. They simply grew up. If those bonds were strong enough, they’d be lifelong. “I’m out of school soon enough and now pestering you to let me babysit when need be.” Time and time again Amelia offered -- but this time was more sincere than the rest. She really did mean it. Growing up was tough enough and to do it with children? Willingly or not, what a tough gig. You can even say it changed her mind on Gideon Prewett, but she was not telling anybody that yet.

“Mum couldn’t come.” Too busy with the upcoming election. Thinking of her mother, and even herself, assisting the minister with his campaign felt like a twist of a knife. How ironic. She gulped hard, “But she sends her condolences. Hullo, Molly.”

“Any summer plans? Your cousin going to go on a liking spree on Fiendfyre?”

Nash looked at her expectantly. Amelia and him were such worlds apart when it came to how they approached things. Him, a slacker who was moving onto a fifth year at Hogwarts, who did the bare minimum to get by. Her, a perfectionist who had a clear idea of what goals she wanted to accomplish and did whatever it took to get there. He looked worried when she didn’t respond, expecting her to scoff and feel like the idea of finding fun might be ludicrous. However, it never actually came, instead, she pressed her lips against his and Nash was shocked, but not altogether disappointed by the move, his only disappointment being when she pulled back sooner than he’d have liked. 

He blinked as if to suddenly remember what they had been doing before and quickly nodded. “Oh, cool, cool. Ace. Yeah, we can watch the movie. Brilliant. May as well watch soon too, because they got a second one coming out couple of weeks so if you like it… you know.”

“Let’s pace ourselves there,” Amelia pat her hand to Nash’s chest as she passed him by and sauntered back into their shared flat. “Warm me up to the first one before we plan the second.” However, when it came to future stolen kisses? Amelia wasn’t sure she’d pace herself there. She’d see the second one for a promise of those.

“No, I’m not at the Ministry, unless writing about this month’s most eligible wizard bachelor—and yes, month not week—for Witch Weekly is working at the Ministry.” He frowned. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing,” Amelia gave Xeno’s shoulder a squeeze as they entered Three Broomsticks, “Just stay where you are. They’re real lucky to have you.”

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“Are you sure you know what fun is?” he asked, his tone teasing, but if she answered his question, Nash might be genuinely curious to hear the answer. “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard this, er, saying, I suppose. Don’t know if it’s a saying so much as–well, anyway– they say that people who aren’t readers, it’s not because they’re not readers, it’s just that they haven’t found the right book to read yet. Maybe you just haven’t found your book yet, Amelia Bones,” he declared. “Do you want to find your book? Your fun?” he asked raising his eyebrows at her. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do, but if you want to watch it, why not? Could be your fun thing, too.” 

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And this is why Amelia had felt comfortable venting today, because Nash had a way of explaining things to her in which the end result was enlightening, and not a feeling of being ashamed for opening up at all. Which seemed to be the normal response to someone as harsh and blunt as Amelia was. She didn’t always react well to the scrutiny, as much as she pretended to. Fake it ‘til you make it. Amelia closed the gap between them for a moment because of it. 

“Clear,” she added, inspecting her own poorly groomed nails. “But, sometimes, I’ll be adventurous with a baby pink.”

Amelia’s jaw fell some, “You may be my soulmate, Daphne.” Clear was always the answer.

“I think it would ruin my mother’s decor, and she certainly would give you a mouthful, but I quite like where you head’s at.”

“Can’t come between a person and their decor, no no no.” Amelia laughed, taking a gulp of whatever she’d decided to pour herself since it’d been the closest bottle. In the meantime, she observed her nails. “What’s your favorite varnish color, Daph?”

“Quite a bit of it, which means… Well, there can’t be any harm in sipping, can there?” Daphne’s mind had already drifted to the wine cellar downstairs. 

“We can lock ourselves inside.” Amelia suggested. “I’ll feel better knowing you can’t wander off with sedatives and chardonnay in your system. I’d feel safer if this place was padded, but I’m afraid of the implications of that.” She laughed.

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“Sounds like to me the thing is you love being on top more than anything else,” said Nash simply. It wasn’t a criticism either, merely an observation on his part. “That’s exactly it, isn’t it? I’ve been the loser and on bottom for so long, that when someone else loves the thing that I do, I jump at the chance, you know?” he explained. “Not to mention duelling is a skill. I get why having to share that position with someone might bother you, but what I love? Superheroes and Star Wars and Doctor Who and all that, they’re not skills, they’re just interests. I can share those interests.” He turned his head to look at her. “You got other friends?”  

“Maybe it’s all I’ve ever known,” she answered, just as simply. “I suppose that’s exactly my point. I enjoy practicality more than I enjoy fun and I’m beginning to believe it’s made me a very unhappy, resentful person.” She pondered what it was she really liked, her interests -- there were Blondie records and making dog treats, but that seemed to be the extent of it these days. Amelia shook her head, “I think you know the answer to that one.” She called everyone friend -- Daphne, Dawn, Marlene, even Clem now at times. But did any of them know her and had she ever allowed them to? She was sure she’d never have a best friend again. And she was fine with that. Nobody would beat Diana. “Does this mean you’re going to make me watch Star Wars?” She would.

Daphne sighed—not at Amelia, of course, but at how exhausted she must feel with all the moving parts of this story. She reached over and squeezed Amelia’s hand. “You know, I shouldn’t be drinking, but maybe a little something extra with our tea wouldn’t be terrible?” 

“I will share if you do.” Amelia daringly raised her brows, then waggled them. “Are you on medication, anyways?” She was torn between being an enabler, and sitting in the dark of Daphne’s life again. She’d take the selfish risk now.

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“I never said that,” said Nash quickly at her first question. He paused, though as he considered her second query. “No,” he said slowly, “he isn’t. I don’t think I want to be him or act like him. I couldn’t really, but I think as far as a character he makes for an offbeat hero, so I like him.” Nash shrugged and then gave her a look. “You mean being an obsessive idiot? Don’t have that one thing that you love maybe just a little too much?”

“I love being right.” She joked, lightly chuckling as she peered up at the fluffy clouds in the sky. After a moment of thought, however, she faltered. “Duelling has always been my thing.” Amelia chewed her bottom lip, lowering her gaze back down to eye level, then to Nash. “I didn’t let myself enjoy it as much as I should have this year, either. I was so pissed I had the share my presidency, that I lost my love for it. Don’t get me wrong, it still exists deep down in me. I’m just annoyingly stubborn and can’t get it out of me, for the life of me. But I feel like if you were in my position, you would have taken sharing in stride. It wouldn’t have mattered. Not being at the top doesn’t mean you don’t love it any less. How in the world do you do it?” It was mostly rhetorical, because she wasn’t sure an answer existed.

Xeno laughed. “All right, all right. Let’s just walk to the pub, yeah?”

“Wait, where are you interning again?”

“Oh, um, I’m with the Minister’s support staff.” Any mention of the Minister had Amelia shifting uncomfortably. She looked ahead as they walked, arms crossing. “Why do you ask? You’re not suddenly at the Ministry, are you?”

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“What? You think my choices in fictional characters is a reflection of who I am or who I want to be? Can’t just find someone to be ace as hell?”

At his statement, she blurted out, “Am I narrow-minded now?” Now, like it was a new thing she was opinionated and judgmental of most things. “I suppose I can’t relate, because I’ve never had any questionable woman idols. But he isn’t an idol, is what you’re saying.” She paused, and then laughed. “Nash, what’s it like to enjoy things without being so critical of them all of the time?” It sounded very stress free and very unlike Amelia.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why, do you have drugs?”

“I’m not a narc,” she was, “but I also don’t deal. Wrong person, Lovegood.”

“I guess so. This kind of music is alright if you’re out your mind on acid or something like that.” Emmeline definitely wouldn’t be taking acid now or ever, but this was the mind of song to listen to if you were out your mind on something.

“If you’re on acid, you’d probably enjoy the sounds of bamboos yodeling.” She was not ashamed of her naivety on drugs. The less she knew, the better. “Would you like a drink?” She asked, realizing how hypocritical. Alcohol could make their brains as good as much, too.

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“No, but one day it could make a great excuse if I ever forget to turn in coursework,” said Nash with a grin. “First, I would never. I’m all about Hans Solo. That’s my kind of guy, personally.”

“No offense, Nash,” although, some of the most offensive things could follow that statement, “I would’ve never figured Solo called to you. Cynical, egotistical man he can be. Hiding something?”