in a dark, dark town . . .

There were tears in her eyes, and almost immediately as she saw them, there were tears in her own. Vic couldn’t help but laugh at his laugh; a small smile landing on her lips at the very sight of him. Godric, why had she ever left? The memories escaped her for a moment, the way all thought left her on this night all those years ago. If it weren’t for the constant fear piling in her stomach, Vic knew that she wouldn’t have a chance. Not against Eddie. It was why she’d never had this moment; why she’d never seen him. She knew she would break apart, and he would pick up her pieces.

He’d always known how to put her back together.

Even now, she felt herself reaching for him, but stopped her hand on the table, unsure of what he would do, or how he would feel. Now he knew. He knew that she had remembered for months and avoided him; knew her well enough to know there must be a reason. Or, at least she hoped he knew that. Vic was a loose cannon; a broken record; a sun spinning out of orbit. But she was never without a point. If anyone knew that, it was Edgar. Still, that didn’t dull any kind of pain that he must be feeling. It didn’t stop the fact that it was April, and she still hadn’t seen him. 

“Well, this time, it seems like it’s my mess doesn’t it?” she took a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand before nodding at his words. “I know. Trust me. I know. I didn’t mean to… Blimey, I shouldn’t be here.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly on those words and she looked at him, a bit of anguish in her eyes. After all, she didn’t want him to go, but really he should go. They couldn’t be seen together. What if her brother remembered? What if he knew and was wanting to finish the job early? Still, he wouldn’t be caught dead in the Leaky. No, he was much too Avery for that. 

Her next two words came out in a whisper, and for a moment, Vic didn’t realize she said them, “Don’t go.” Such a simple sentence, packed with so much meaning. His nickname for her, Tori, ringing over and over in her head. Hearing his voice for the first time in what felt like years, but really was, in theory, only months, felt both like a warm hug and a punch to the gut. “I… You deserve an explanation. And a bloody apology, both for what I did then and what I had to do now. I can’t–I fucked up. And not in my usual… I fucked up a little bit and can fix it way. I don’t know how to fix this one and the only way was staying away. Which, I’m obviously doing a fabulous job of.” She paused, her hands clasped together on the table, knuckles white. Vic wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say, but she knew she needed to ask one more question. “Do you want me to go?”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

Her words made him pause. Her mess? What? What could she possibly mean by that? But before he could so much as ask her, she quickly mentioned leaving and it made a sharp, desperate shot of urgency let loose like a tornado in his chest. No. Please. The mere idea of her leaving now ––– now that she was here and he could see her ––– was enough to nearly send him into an all-out panic. Just a little more time. Just a little more, that was all he asked. That was all he needed. 

. . . But was that fair? To force something out of his own bids of pure selfishness? Especially it could cause Tori harm? After everything he’d already put her through? Put their family through? Fuck, he was a right, disgusting git, and he knew it. He needed to go. It was the right thing to do. It was for the best. He never should have come in the first place. He said he wouldn’t ruin her or her life ever again after that night and he meant it. Now more than ever before. His feelings didn’t matter. Not anymore. 

Edgar made the move to rise from his seat then ––– mind firmly made up ––– but froze at the two, barely there whispered words his wife suddenly uttered between them. 

Don’t go. 

It was astounding almost, how just that simple phrase affected him so thoroughly; made him feel as though his body was floating. He didn’t know which was up or down in that moment, but he didn’t care. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him there. She wanted him. If only what she continued with ( a strange, fragmented explanation that only made his muddled brain fog over all the more ) wasn’t so unbelievably confusing. 

“Tori, what–––?” Apology? What did she need to apologize for? He was the one that needed to apologize! Not her! Merlin, what in the bloody hell was she saying? “What you did? I don’t ––– I don’t understand?” Quick as a shot, his hand reached out to settle over both of her intertwined ones. He didn’t so much as think about it. It was natural, even after all this time. He wanted to comfort her in some way ––– let her know he was there. It also helped ground himself as he tried and get a handle on what he’d just heard. “Of course I don’t want you to go. I never–––.” His voice broke. “I just . . . I don’t get what you mean. What are you talking about? Fix what?” 

Amelia snorted as she chewed on her pizza and swallowed it down. “You always were absolute rubbish at charades, it’s why I always won, unless ‘lix was playing, because then he helped you,” She retorted playfully, though grinned as Edgar got his own pizza. Instead of sitting, Amelia took another bite and began to pace again, trying to think of how to word it. Obviously she was going to have to explain, because Edgar would never guess what she was thinking.

“I think I might run for Minister of Magic,” She spoke between chewing again, “Like, okay, I get that right now I might not technically seem qualified for it in the eyes of everyone who doesn’t remember, but I literally got killed because Moldy knew I was going to be next Minister and people would like me and vote for me, and that’s gotta say something right? I mean, clearly I was qualified enough and I am still qualified enough.”

She took a deep breath, and kept pacing, “And like, it could be good for all of us, right? I can do what I can from the Ministry, more so if I’m Minister, to help The Order and to help get as many Death Eaters caught as possible, this could give us a leg up on Moldy, and in the long run make things better, right?”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

Edgar’s entire body stilled at his sister’s admission  ––– blood freezing over in his veins as he fought to comprehend what exactly he’d just heard. “I’m sorry. I’m positive I heard you wrong just now. You might do what?” His sister had always been ambitious, he knew that, but this? Running for a position that had very real and permanent dangers? Hell, Minchum had just bit the damn dust after the attack at the ball, and she wanted to jump right into that chaos head first? With everything going on around them? No. Absolutely not. 

Not to mention that GLARING fact that she HAD been killed in the future for trying to do the very same thing only made matters all the worse; debilitating fear spiking like a lance at his chest at the mere thought of losing his twin. 

“Are you mad?” he hissed out, fighting the very real urge grab at his sister’s shoulders and shake until a bit of sense went back into her. “No, that does not ‘say something.’ That should be all the more reason for you not to run, for Merlin sake! And who gives a bloody fuck if you’re qualified or not?” 

But she just kept going, basically ignoring him and making his frustrations rise to a breaking point. “Amelia. Stop it.” His words were firm as he got up and stood right in the direct path of her pacing. “Will you listen to me? We know better than ANYONE that Ministers have a huge fucking target on their back the moment they’re elected! Look at Minchum. Look at yourself! You wanna be next for that? Hell, you think me or Fe are going to let you? I don’t give a shit about how much this could supposedly help the Order. I care about you! You can’t do this.” 

When: April 5th, 1979 Where: Edgar’s Flat Who: @edgxrsbones​

Amelia had been stewing on something for the past few days, and she needed a second opinion. So, of course, her twin being the first person she went to about it was the most logical choice. If anything, he would be able to help her make the decision for or against, or at least listen to her babble on about it before calling her out for how dumb it might be. Either way, she needed to see Edgar.

Which is why she set out after spending some time at work, going and grabbing some pizza, before heading to Edgar’s place. “Edgar!” She called out as she reached the door, knocking on it and waiting for just a moment. She didn’t even really give him enough time to answer, before she just went ahead and went inside herself. “Brought food!” She added brightly as she went in.

She moved over to sit it on the counter and take her scarf and coat off, starting to talk. “So, I need your opinion on something that I’m considering, because like, I get that I’m not technically qualified for it at this point, but also I am, and I was thinking that it could do some good, not just for us but for The Order and everyone as a whole, but it’s also just like, convincing people and trying to show them that I’m meant for it, if I do try and do it–” She continued to babble, grabbing a slice of pizza out of the box and chewing on it as she continued, “But also like, I need a second opinion on if this is a good idea or not.”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

It was a real testament to their bond that Edgar didn’t even so much as flinch at the sudden and brass call of his sister’s voice shooting through his little flat. In fact, he just continued writing away in his potions and inventory notebook for work as the pounding of her footsteps grew closer and closer towards where he sat in his kitchen/temporary home brewing hub. It was only the mention of food that finally had him looking up with a knowing look. There was a catch coming. He could feel it. 

But, like the good brother he was, he just leaned back in his seat and listened intently as Amelia started to make herself comfortable and spout out a jumbled mess of . . . something she was planning to do. Or thinking of planning to do, anyway. Whatever that was ( twin telepathy only went so far, after all ). “You gonna tell me what this idea is, or am I meant to guess, Lia? Because you and I both know I’m rubbish at charades,” he teased lightly as he reached out to grab for his own bit of pizza.

who: @edgxrsbones​ when: april 9th, 1979. where: the leaky cauldron.

The Leaky’s warmth seeped into her bones as soon as she pushed past its door. Just like the previous 1979, winter hadn’t given up its icy grasp on April. Vic was a fan of Summer, herself, but luckily for her the Leaky always felt warmer, especially after this day. Godric, she knew she shouldn’t be here; knew she shouldn’t be toeing the line. But, she had to come, didn’t she? A part of her didn’t think he would come, but she knew that was just wishful thinking.

Sentimentality would be the death of them. 

There was no way Vic would be able to pretend if she saw him. Even thinking of it now, of the way he looked at her the first time, under the dim lights of this very room, on this very day, she knew it would kill her. They’d always said if they were able to relive the moment, it would be nothing but happiness. Joy and light and laughter. And the moment had been that. But they were no longer those people, were they? Vic had seen to that. 

As the minutes ticked by, her butterbeer growing colder, Vic wondered if he wouldn’t show. Maybe they’d both be spared from a reunion that wouldn’t be nearly as bright as their meeting. And then, the door opened. It was almost like seeing him again for the first time; her stomach fully fell from her chest, and it took everything in her not to run to him then and there, knock him to the ground like he’d done to her what felt like a lifetime ago.

But, she didn’t.

Her feet remained firmly planted in her seat as she waited. It wasn’t until their eyes met that she knew he would know, and Vic had to turn away to keep him from seeing the tears springing. Arms wrapped around herself, like a protective shield, and she waited for him to come slide into the booth, breathed in one final gulp of air before she said, “I was wondering if you would even show. I don’t know if I would, if I were in your shoes. If I’d…” Vic closed her eyes before saying, quietly, “You’re even wearing the same jacket. From that night– this night.”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

It was a mistake. Merlin’s beard, was it ever a huge fucking mistake to be at the Leaky, especially that night. And yet, there Edgar stood, right in the threshold of the old, bustling bar like the dewy-eyed fool he’d always been. He knew the risks. He knew that there was a very real chance of having some kind of contact with Victoria after everything. But even then, deep down, he knew he had to do it. No matter how much his brain screamed at him to turn back and flee, or how much his stomach threatened to rebel right onto the floor under his leaden feet, Edgar had to see her, even if it was just this once. 

Just one last time. 

He'd avoided even the mere thought of Victoria for far, far too long; practically running like a pathetic dog with its tail between its legs at every brief flash of long, dark hair, or anyone who so much as looked like his wife from a distance. It was beyond cowardly, but that last night of his and his family’s lives was still so fresh ––– and it was his fault. His. He just couldn’t bare to see her. He couldn’t stand to look at the love of his life after what they’d been through; all they’d lost. Victoria deserved better than him. She always had, and he refused to be her ruin. Never again. 

But Rowena fucking above, he’d missed her. It felt as though there was a hole carved in his chest that grew with each passing day and they weren’t together. And even though he had his siblings, it wasn’t the same. The ache he felt practically gnawing at his bones was unlike anything he’d ever known; the visceral pain on a constant loop.

So to suddenly see her, just a few feet away from him, was almost enough to knock him over. She was there; right there and back alive, just as he was. They were both back in the place where it all began and Victoria was looking just as beautiful as she had that first night. Before Edgar realized it, he was moving towards her table as though pulled on strings, tears immediately springing to his eyes as a quick, watery laugh escaped him at her words ( her voice ). He slowly took a seat in the booth across from her in the last ditch effort to prevent himself from pulling her tight into the circle of his arms and just never letting go; take in the comforting scent and warmth of her and breathe for the first time in months.

“You know me, always around to make a fuckin’ mess, I am.” he said at last, his voice a pained croak as he tossed a shakily, crooked smile her way in the last ditch effort to fight back the sob building in his throat. She was real. This was real. “I tried not to come, but I just . . . I had to, Tori. This night, it was–––” everything. It was everything. He wished with all he had that they could have that night again. He wished. “But I can go . . . if you want.”

Almost instantaneously, from the look on Edgar’s face, Julien knew he shouldn’t press. While he was lucky enough to have his Delia back with him, he couldn’t imagine the pain that Eddie was going through without Vic. A deep breath caught in his throat, and while he wanted to make his friend feel better, he knew better than to try and show pity. He wouldn’t want it right now either. “Right, well, if you need me to send a Nibbler after her, you say the word.” Vic did, after all, love jewelry. Was always wearing new earrings, every time he saw her. 

A snort followed his words, and he shook his head ever so slightly. “Can you imagine? Never thought I’d be this… bloody sappy over someone. But she’s…” A sigh followed, particularly dreamy and not so uncharacteristic that it would sound out of place. Still, for a long time, Julien thought it would just be him and his creatures for all time. “Anyways, I still appreciate it. I know with everything going on it can’t be the most important thing… How are your siblings, by the way?”

Julien’s smile followed Edgar’s words and he nodded ever so slightly. “I felt a little bit of sap couldn’t hurt in the end,” he teased. “And that sounds perfect. Truthfully, I Just wanted to get her something different from last time. Her old ring was my grandmother’s and it’s lovely but it’s not… I don’t know. It’s not right. She deserves something that’s hers this time around.” He shook his head. “Never thought I’d have to propose twice.”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

Edgar tried to smile at Julien’s supportive joke ––– he really did ––– especially when he didn’t try to push or pry the subject of Victoria any further, but, unfortunately, it came off as more of a pained grimace. “I appreciate it,” he rumbled softly, “but it’s fine. I’ll figure it out,” a lie, “so you really don’t need to worry about little old me, yeah?” 

It might have sounded a bit off, but honestly, for a long time, he hadn’t thought he’d see his friend so utterly besotted, either. From the time the two had first met, Julien’s biggest and only love had been the myriad of creatures their world had to offer. If nothing else, Edgar had always pictured him marrying his work. Not to mention that, for the longest while, him and Cordelia didn’t get along at all. Rowena, love sure was bloody fucking weird sometimes. “I’d say we deserve some good things in all this weirdness, don’t you?” It’d be a reprieve, that was for sure. “And oh, Felix and Amelia are fine. We’re ––– well, we’re kind of sticking close to each other ( or more like they were sticking close to him, he’d noticed ), after everything. But we’re good. They’re good. What about yours?” 

Scribbling in his little notebook, Edgar made sure to include everything he’d need to get Julien’s request down to the letter. “I get it,” he replied absentmindedly. “I think it’s sweet. And also very you. She’d be nuts to say no.” 

Most nights Sirius found himself in a pub instead of heading straight home. Being around people, even if not directly, distracted him. When he was alone and it was quiet there was too much room for his thoughts to take in his mind and that was never a good thing for him. And so he drank so that he could sleep a little easier at night. It wasn’t the greatest coping mechanism, he knew that, but it was all he had right now.

So it was no surprise that he found himself in the leaky cauldron and glanced around the room before his eyes settled on a familiar face. Was he ever going to get used to seeing ghosts of the past? He doubted it. But it was getting easier each time. Or maybe he was just becoming numb to the emotional trauma this whole situation was causing. Either way he made his way over to Edgar after he had gotten himself a drink without giving himself time to decide if he even wanted company or not. Drinking to cope was bad enough. But drinking on your own was just downright depressing.

“Me? I practically live here now it should be me saying that to you.” Sirius grinned. It was getting easier to plaster on a smile while he felt as though he were falling apart. It was less exhausting too. “Rough day or you just here for fun?” 

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

He didn’t know if it was because he knew all too damn well what being mentally and physically drained ( and putting up a mask to hide it from the world ) looked like personally, or what, but almost immediately, at the sight of Sirius’ smile, Edgar knew with absolute certainty that it was forced; that he was keeping something far deeper behind that cavalier façade of his. But hell, he didn’t know a lick of what’d happened to Sirius after he’d been killed, so he didn’t feel it was in his place to pry just yet, despite their friendship. 

Besides, he wouldn’t want the other doing the same to him. 

“Rough everything more like,” he replied lowly after a brief, weighted moment of pause. “Though I’d definitely like a spot of fun with some company, if you’re up for it?” He’d always liked Sirius, and they’d always gotten along insanely well from the moment they’d first met. And even with them waking up in this mess of the past, the comfort of the old and familiar was something he found he wanted and needed to take him out of the darker thoughts that had been plaguing him whenever he was alone. 

amelia bones .

————

Amelia couldn’t describe the pure relief there was in her chest at having her brothers there. She took a shaky breath through her sobs as Felix kissed her head and wiped her tears away, and leaned into her twin more as Edgar rested his head against hers. The Spanish was like a blanket over her, Edgar’s words soothing and helping her to take a deep breath and stop crying. They were all three safe, and together, and that was all that mattered to her.

Felix’s words made her feel angry though, and as Edgar shot the look at him, Amelia used her hand that had been holding onto Felix to pinch at Felix’s arm in reply. “Exactly,” She agreed, hating how watery her voice still sounded and clearing her throat, “You know damn well we’re going to worry about you, always.” He was just as important to her as Edgar was, and she wasn’t sure what she would have done if one of them was hurt.

Hearing Felix say that Emmeline and Gideon were okay and helping others was reassuring, and Amelia made a note to find her friend later. The offer to just go back to Felix’s place and have a Bones family night was the most tempting thing in the world to her, and really she wanted nothing more than to have just a night with her brothers. However… Edgar was right, as he spoke, and Amelia knew it.

“We shouldn’t,” She agreed softly then, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders a little, “They’re going to need help, and it wouldn’t be right for us to just go running off, not when we can do something. We can take a section at a time. Staying close enough to see each other, but helping as many as we can. And as soon as we’re sure we’ve helped as many as we can, we go back to Felix’s, okay?” She glanced back and forth between the two of them.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Even before they spoke, Felix knew the answers his siblings would give to his questions. He glanced between the both of them, clicking his tongue ever so slightly as they chided him for chiding them. It was strange, though, to have all his people be so worried about him, when really he was the one who was quite careful the first time round. If anyone needed to be worried, shouldn’t it be him? Then again, he supposed that wasn’t fair to anyone. But in this moment, he couldn’t care whether they were worried, or if he was, because at least they were all here. 

“The two of you, always so brave,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. His pride evident, always, in the twins. He nodded ever so slightly at Amelia’s suggestion and looked over his shoulder and then back at them. “We were just helping people get to the healers who are apparting to Mungo’s,” he said, meeting their eyes. “I think there might be a few around. Under… under the rubble.” The words came out weary, a bit broken, but he knew his siblings would understand.

Godric, they’d understand better than anyone, wouldn’t they? The losses they’d all suffered, and continued to suffer, made his head swim. He hoped that, one day, they wouldn’t have to be worrying about the safety of their fellow wizards and witches. In these moments, Felix wished he had been a part of the effort to stop the war the first time. Even worse, maybe, was that it had stopped, and restarted, like a strange wheel of death that Felix couldn’t seem to escape.

This time, though, if he wasn’t going to get Susan, he would, at the very least, make sure his siblings made it through. 

“C’mon,” he said, nodding his head. “We’ve already searched most of this room. I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of–” But then he was cut off by a cry, and he was running, immediately, bending down by a person who’s leg was trapped beneath a pile of rubble. His heart hammered in his chest and look at Edgar. “Eddie,” he said, softly, hoping he or Amelia would know a better spell than he would for this moment. Instead, he turned back to the person, who was still crying out and gently wiped some hair from their face. “Hey, we’ve got you, yea? We’re… We’ll get you out of here.”

@edgxrsbones​

Edgar found himself absentmindedly nodding along to Felix’s words, though his stomach gave a horrible lurch at the mention of people practically being buried alive. But he did his best to fight back against it and stay standing. They didn’t have time for that kind of floundering. They needed to act, and the sooner they did so, the sooner they could help and get as far and fast from this utter nightmare of a night. 

Just for one last burst of confidence, he squeezed at Amelia’s hand and began to look around them room ––– Merlin, there was so much horrific damage and mass panic no matter where you turned; where in the world did they start? ––– when, out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of his brother rushing over towards a pile of rubble to where someone was pinned underneath. Vaguely, Edgar was reminded of how Felix always did the same whenever he and Amelia hurt themselves as kids; ready soothe and comfort. 

Hurrying over himself at the call of his name, Edgar bent down and immediately let instincts take over. “Keep talking to them, Fe ––– ask them questions and make sure they’re coherent. There’s some blood coming from their head, so we want to check for a concussion,” he began to mutter toward his brother as he continued to take stock of the injured person before them, and began to initiate some rudimentary healing spells. Being into potions, he’d made sure ages ago to at least learn the basics; felt it was prudent. Now, more than ever, he was glad he had. It really did come in handy. “We’ll probably need to cast Levioso to get rid of these debris so we can move them too.” It almost shocked him, really, how easily he fell back into things. He more thought he’d freeze up, or turn tail at the last moment. Maybe there was a sliver of hope for him yet in all of this yet. “Think you can handle that, Lia?” he asked with a wry little smile as he looked up towards his twin, knowing damn good and well that the spell was practically nothing for her.

Gideon had been apprehensive about going to the ball that night. He had torn emotions over what the plans were. Or rather he had torn emotions about not being directly involved with the plans. He had yet to return to the embrace of the Order fully and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He still believed in the cause of course. He hadn’t lost the ability to fight or heal or anything else that was important. He had yet to find his twin though and he felt out of step without him. 

The Order had been like his family before but now the most important part of his family had yet to show up again. What if he hadn’t come back? What if somehow whatever magic that brought them all back to this time had forgotten his twin? Could he live through that? Did he want to? He wasn’t sure. So he had avoided running back into the fight. Besides was it not the dedication to the Order that had cost him Felix the first time? Surely the man wouldn’t care for him to join again though he had to keep reminding himself that Felix was no longer his and most likely never would be again. 

Thoughts of Felix were set aside when another Bones sibling came into his view. Edgar had always been a good friend and Gideon was happy to see him at the ball. Though he could have done with some help for his outfit. “Edgar I see that you went a different route with your outfit. I have yet to have a great time but you can change that by joining me on the dance floor. 

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

Edgar let out a small snort of laughter as he looked down at his slim, baby blue suit while his friend gently ribbed on him for it. “Oh, what can I say? I just love to subvert expectations and go a little off the map from time-to-time.” Leaning back a bit, he took a small sip from the flute of champagne he’d been holding and gave Gideon a soft, but inquisitive stare. “You here with anyone tonight? Or are you like me and braving the love-drunk masses alone?” Though he was happy to talk to the other man, he didn’t want to keep him if he had somewhere else to be. He might not be about the holiday, but he wasn’t a prick to go and ruin it for anyone else. 

The abrupt offer to go off onto the dance floor, however, had Edgar shaking his head almost frantically. “Oh, absolutely not, Gid. I’m not a dancer.” Which really wasn’t true. He actually liked dancing quite a lot, but he just didn’t have the spirit for it ––– not anymore. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be at all hard for you to find someone to sweep of their feet, though, huh?” Which, granted, might not have been the brightest thing he’d ever said, considering Gideon and his brother’s history together, but it was too late to take back his words now. Maybe he should cool it on the bubbly a bit. 

“Though, I would gladly have you join me in my little corner to people watch. There are some characters around here, let me tell you.” 

There’s a deep appreciation for Edgar, one that now runs in his smile. The friend who had always seen him through his darkest times; the one who understood him, even when he went on for hours about animals rights. Julien would be forever grateful to him, and it was that that made him carefully ask, “Vic still hasn’t showed?” It was a quiet question, gentle, and he met his eyes with a softness that he reserved only for a few people. He hoped it wasn’t too prying, but sometimes, hew as never able to stop his mouth from running.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding his head. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you for this.” And it was the truth, even though he knew it still might hurt, and now that he knew his answer to the previous question, he felt a little guilty for even asking. How could he be so happy, when his best friend was suffering this way? A part of him wanted to find Victoria himself…

But then Edgar was talking and Julien couldn’t help but find himself getting a little excited at the prospect of the ring. “Yea? Oh, that’s… That’s great to hear. I mean, bright star like you. Like a hippogriff. They’re rather smart creatures, as I’m sure, you’re, uh, aware.” He nodded his head ever so slightly and pulled a larkspur from his pocket, sliding it across the table too. “If it could be like this? The purple and blue color is kind-of a key component, so if it could change… I don’t know according to the light would be amazing, but I don’t know if that’s possible?”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

He knew it would come up at some point, but even so, Julien’s outright mention of his wife’s whereabouts had Edgar’s shoulders tensing up, though he tried hard to hide it as to not give anything away to his friend’s keen gaze. “No. She hasn’t. Not yet.” And he wasn’t going to look for her, either. Not that he was going to tell Julien that ( or anyone, for that matter ). He knew how the other man would react, and he wasn’t at all in the mood or right headspace for the very pointless and concerned lecture he knew would follow. 

“Yeah, of course. Don’t mention it, Jul,” he said with a quick, dismissive wave of his hand, just glad for the change of conversation. “I know how moon-eyed you are for Cordelia. I’m happy to help you with this, you know? However I can.” And he truly meant that. If nothing else, seeing the blond so happy and excited was more than enough for him. 

Edgar nodded slightly as he reached out for the larkspur and held it gently in his hand ––– giving it a thorough look over. “No need to butter me up, you sod. I’m already doing it,” he teased with a small grin. “Though the sweet compliment really makes my heart flutter about.” He turned the flower over to catch all the different nuances of colors that Julien pointed out it him. “Hm. I just might need an extra day to get everything just right, but it’s definitely doable. That okay?” 

amelia bones .

Amelia’s grip on her twin’s hand matched his; firm and unyielding, unwilling to let go or let anyone pull them apart. She had to be the optimistic one, had to believe with all her might that her words were truth, because if she let herself think for one second otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to handle it, and Edgar needed her support at the moment too. No matter how bad it looked, she had to be sure she hadn’t lost them. After all, she’d found Edgar, they’d find Felix.

She had been about to respond to Edgar’s words when they were suddenly being pulled into an embrace. Felix. Amelia let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her one hand still gripping tightly to Edgar’s, and the other going to tightly grasp at Felix’s jacket to hold onto him tightly. “Thank Morgana, ‘lix, fuck…” She breathed out.

“We’re fine. We’re okay. You?” She spoke the words as Edgar did, though didn’t pull back from the tight hug, as a sob escaped her throat, and then another, and a third. Perhaps it was just the emotions of relief, of being right, of having both of her brothers safe and with her, or maybe it was the exhaustion from running on fumes the past month and everything else. Whatever it was, Amelia suddenly found herself just crying.

@felixbcnes

Felix knew that he should say something more, but he truly couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words that he so desperately knew his siblings needed. Instead, he kissed their heads again, like he used to do when they were little and he’d read them a story before bed. Their parents, wonderful in their tenderness, had instilled their softness in him. He’d always found himself acting similarly around his siblings; gentle forehead kisses in the hopes that it might take away some of the fear there.

And now, blimey, did he wish he could take away some of their fear.

He’d lived longer than they ever had. Edgar, especially, was so young now. He knew, in theory, they were only a few years apart, but that didn’t stop him from knowing the sole truth of the situation. He’d lived to have grey hairs, and his siblings hadn’t. He would be bloody damned if he wouldn’t give his life so that they could fuss over a gray hair in the mirror. 

“I’m fine,” he said, gently, pulling away to carefully wipe tears from Amelia’s face. “I’m fine, hermanitos. Don’t worry about me, alright? I’ve learned how to take care of myself.” And it was true, he had, if nothing else, learned how to survive. Even if he was trying something new, Felix knew he could handle his own self these days. Gently, squeezing their hands, he looked back and forth between them. “Emme and Gid–I’d been helping them get some inocentes out. We saw you and I just…” He’d come. As he always would, now, that he was given the chance to be here. “If you want to stay and help, I’ll be right by your side, but if not, I’ve got blankets and an extra bedroom and– Well, we’re long overdue for a Bones family night, aren’t we?” The words were so gentle that he thought, for a moment, they might not have left his lips. 

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

The moment Amelia began to cry, Edgar dropped his chin to rest his head against hers; his thumb rubbing soft and reassuring over her knuckles as he tucked her in close to his side. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay, Lia. It’s okay. We’re all here. It’s okay,” he whispered in Spanish against her hair. It was still so surreal to him ––– how similar, and yet, so viscerally different his siblings were to him at times. They’d both lived so much longer than he had and had to go through his death on top of it. It was so clear just how much that alone affected them, and he hated that he put them through it. He hated it with everything he was. The mere idea of losing either of his siblings was a crippling one, but his brother and sister had always been strong. Far, far stronger than him. 

He was just so fucking thankful they were still together this time. They’d made it. Maybe things could be different? Maybe . . . 

Turning his gaze toward his brother as he began to downplay his safety, Edgar shot him a sharp look. “Cállate, Fe. Of course we’re going to worry.” It didn’t at all sit right with him ––– that Felix would just write himself off like that. Like he wasn’t important. Like him getting hurt wouldn’t utterly destroy him and Amelia. 

Deep down, he knew the right thing to do ––– especially now that he and siblings were together ––– was to go back out in the chaos and help others. He knew that. And yet? He wanted nothing more than to go home and just hide away from it all; Felix’s offer sounded far too tempting. But still. “We . . . we shouldn’t just leave, right? There are more people who are a lot worse off. And they might need help.”

The gentle remark was enough to have Julien breathe out a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to be insensitive; not everyone received what he’d gotten in this second chance. Julien knew he would need to talk to Edgar about it, at some point, but at the moment, with the brushing off of the comment, Julien didn’t feel like he was ready quite yet to bring it up. “Oh, you know me,” he shook his head. “Always bloody saying the wrong thing.”

And it was true, Julien had never been good at words. Creatures were his strong suit, and somehow… well, somehow he’d found Cordelia, who understood him, even when he found his tongue tied. “So, do you remember when I proposed to Delia the last time?” he asked, tucking his fingers into his pockets. “This time, I’m going a bit larger. I mean, I know she’ll say yes, but after everything… Well, she’s lived quite a few years without me, and I’m a little worried she might not… I mean, not entirely worried, but I just want it to be grand.”

And the thought made him smile, even as he pushed to the Leaky and got them a seat. Even as they ordered and Julien leaned forward. “I’ve got a ring,” he said, sliding it across to him. “And the diamond, it’s nice, right? But I’d like… well, there’s a potion I’d heard of that could change the color to that of any object. I was wondering if you knew it? You’re quite better at these things than I am.”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

“Oh, I do, but I got used to your aptitude for word-vomit ages ago,” he teased. Though, the topic shifting to that of love and weddings ––– of all bloody things, for Morgana’s sake ––– had his hackles rising almost immediately; a burning ache ripping through his chest. Merlin, and in February, too. Victoria had positively adored Valentine’s Day, and as such, he’d always gone out of his way to put that perfect crooked smile he’d so loved onto her freckled face. Now, the very thought of any of it ( and what he would never have again ) made him want to break down into tears like a small child.  

But Julien was his friend, and he cared a great deal for him ( and he knew how much the entire plan and, of course, Cordelia meant to him ). So, even though all the talk of his upcoming proposal was the very last thing he wanted to hear about or be a part of, he knew he’d just have to grit his teeth and bare it. “I understand, mate. But no, I really don’t think you’ll have much to worry about.” 

Edgar leaned forward a bit in his seat as he gave the presented ring a once over with a small smile on his face ––– it really was beautiful. “There’s a couple out there, honestly,” he said with a gentle lilt to his voice, “but what I think what would be best for you would be a little Chamaeleontis Potion. Not a hard one to whip up, really. I could start on it tonight, if you’d like? What color do you want the diamond to look like?” he added, pulling out a small notebook from his pocket to write everything down for later. 

Julien knew that he tended to get his friends into trouble. He never really looked at danger, and when he did, it was just another problem for him to solve. Still, there was a sort-of giddiness that came from being with his friends again, after death had it’s icy hold on him. Life, he decided, was more exciting the less he thought about it. This second chance wouldn’t be wasted. 

So, he smiled again at Edgar, a real wide thing that lit up his face in a way that he didn’t often experience. “Brilliant. Pot pies on me, then.” And with that he twirled on his heel, coming face to face with the rest of the line. “Hello there!” he cheerfully greeted those in line before making his way to the front of the store to wait for his friend. Edgar, he knew, was always far more of a working man than he ever was. Julien had a hard time sitting behind a desk, or at the very least, sitting still. It was why he’d put off a job with the Ministry; it terrified him to think about being stuck in one place for so long.

Once Edgar was outside, though, he grinned at his old mate and nodded his head towards their old lunch spot.  “I’m not that bad, am I?” he asked, raising a brow. “I mean, rather chipper for me this month but I suppose that’s what being given a second shot does to you.” A pause as he realized what he’d said and he looked back over at him. “I know it’s… well, I appreciate you helping me here. You ever need anything, I’m there. No questions asked.”

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

He’d always greatly valued his friendship with Julien, despite their rather different upbringings. He was a breath of fresh air, and had been since they’d first met all. And considering all he’d been through lately, him and his free-spirited presence was more needed than he’d realized or ever thought possible. 

The offer of free food wasn’t so bad, either. 

Edgar didn’t even try to hold back his loud, amused snort when Julien turned about to address the rest of his customers ––– especially at the confused looks he saw scattered about. Rowena, it was the most he’d laughed since he woke up, and better still, it was genuine. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt. “You’re a menace,” he called out toward his excited friend as he walked out the door to wait for him to finish up. Thankfully, the last few orders were relatively simple, and he was soon waving the shop sign to show he was on a break to go and meet the blonde outside. 

“Wait. Is that a trick question?” However, when Edgar went to offer a bit more playful snark, he was stopped cold by the mention of a second shot. Fuck. He knew Julien didn’t mean it the way it came across, of course. He knew. But it still was said, and it still hurt. 

. . . Though, he supposed it was good to see that some people were getting a better deal out of this bizarre time-travel mess. Especially Julien. He deserved that happiness, and he was happy for him. “Don’t look so scared, you git. I know,” he soothed with a gentle shove to the other man’s shoulder to show no ill will. “And I appreciate it, but . . . yeah. I’m alright.” There wasn’t anything he could do, really. “But what’s going on with you. What’d you need me for?” 

amelia bones .

Amelia had felt completely terrified, up until the moment she heard Edgar’s voice calling back to her. As they crashed into each other, Amelia clung to her twin, taking in a deep breath and letting out a watery, relieved laugh. Edgar was there, he was solid and alive and she hadn’t lost him again. Morgana, the thought of losing him again had her heart feeling like it was about to pound out of her chest.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” She stated quickly, shaking her head and looking at him, relief written all over her face. “I wasn’t anywhere near it,” She continued, “I was with James, we were off working, but I’m fine, I’m fine, and you’re fine and here.” She squeezed his hand tightly, holding onto him as he went on and she felt that fear rising again. Surely she couldn’t have regained her brothers, to lose one again, right?

“We’ll find him,” She reassured her twin quickly, “We’ll find him, ‘lix is smart and we’ll find him. Here, come with me.” She tugged on his hand, wanting to pull him over out of the way of the chaos a bit. If they had a better vantage point it would be easier to see, to spot Felix in the crowd, hopefully.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The night had not gone exactly to plan. Felix had at least found Gideon and Emmeline among the rubble, both unscathed, thank Godric, but his siblings were still missing. And all he could think about was how little time they’d had together again; how little time the two of them had gotten back. Emme and Gid had helped him look, but to no avail. His siblings were nowhere to be found, and with that knowledge came the intense fear that he’d lost them again.

He was still stumbling around when he finally made it onto the top of a pile of rubble, the dark mark hanging ominously above the room. Felix swallowed, tearing his eyes away from that symbol and back to the crowd. They had to be here somewhere. They had to be here somewhere. He couldn’t accept that the world could be so cruel; couldn’t accept that he would have so little time with them only for them to be taken away. 

And then, he saw them. Huddled together as they always were, and Felix was sliding off the pile he was on and running towards them, narrowly missing falling pieces of rubble on the way. Finally, he had them both in his arms, and he pulled Amelia’s head to his shoulder and kissed the top of it gently. “Thank Merlin,” he said softly, then, pulling Eddie’s head to his other shoulder and kissing the top of his head too. The relief that flooded through him was enough to keep him standing; whole. “I couldn’t find you both for so long and I couldn’t help but think– Neither of you are hurt?” 

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

Edgar followed after his twin without any prompting needed; his grip on her hand firm and unyielding. There was absolutely no way he was letting her go. No way in hell. But Merlin and Morgana, was it hard to believe in her optimistic words, no matter how much he so desperately wanted to. Because the absolute wreckage and devastation of the room around them reflected the brutal truth of the matter. People were hurt. People were dead, and Felix could very well be one of them. 

Never had he wanted to be wrong so badly.  

As he and Amelia moved over to a corner more out of the way of the chaos, Edgar kept looking around; trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Felix nearby, and being both relieved and terrified when he couldn’t. Please be okay. Please. “Maybe someone saw him?” he called out as the thought crossed his mind. “Do you think if we found anyone else they’d be able to tell us–––” but Edgar’s words died in his throat at the sudden and loud consecutive crashing sounds going on behind him, followed by hurried footsteps heading their way. He hardly had a moment to so much as turn his head before he and Amelia were surrounded in an embrace they both knew all too well. 

It was Felix. He was here. He was okay. He was alive. Thank fuck. Thank fuck. 

“Fe,” he exclaimed on another sob; pure and staggering solace coating his voice ––– his entire being ––– as he wrapped his free arm tight around his older brother like a lifeline; his other hand still clasped in Amelia’s. 

They were fine. They were together through all the hell. They were whole. That’s all that mattered. 

“We’re fine. We’re okay. You? You’re not hurt are you?” He pulled back a bit, doing a once-over for himself. 

Sure, he didn’t want to be at the ball, that much was true. But he couldn’t much deny that seeing and chatting with some familiar faces made the whole mess much more bearable. It was a nice distraction; felt as though things were somewhat normal and even pleasant, if for just a little while. And the drinks definitely helped. 

But it was even better when those familiar faces were those that he liked, like Gideon Prewett. “Damn, mate. You really went and took the whole Valentine’s things serious, huh?” he teased playfully as he walked up towards his friend and took in his suit. Not that it was a bad thing by any means ––– it was a very Gideon thing to do, which was incredibly refreshing to see. Honestly, in his opinion, more people needed to be more like him. Besides, it’s not like he was the only one fitting well into theme of the night. Hell, if anything, he was the one who looked out of place. 

The abundance of hearts and pixies and all the red and pink décor were just a painful reminder of what he didn’t have ––– what he’d lost. He didn’t want to feed into that. 

“You having a good time? I’m surprised you’re not all over the dance floor, to be honest.” 

When: February 14th, after the explosion Where: The Ministry Who: @edgxrsbones​

Amelia had been with James, working on destroying the papers against Narcissa, and trying to figure out what the papers they’d found about Lucius Malfoy meant, and what they could do with them. It was her first mission with the Order, and Amelia felt proud of herself, even if it was under Dumbledore’s direction. Of course, then the explosions had happened, and without a second though, she and James had both gone sprinting towards the Atrium and their loved ones.

“EDGAR!” Amelia wasn’t sure if he’d hear her, truthfully, because it was complete commotion and panic once they reached the Atrium. All she could think was about her brothers, both of them up there, both of them in danger, neither close enough for her to protect. She was sobbing already as she ran, terrified more than anything of losing either of them, but especially of losing her twin once more. She couldn’t let it happen.

“EDGAR!” She stumbled a bit through some of the debris, cursing at her heels and trying to get through the people that were moving past. She should be checking on people, helping out, doing what she could, she absently though, but she couldn’t do any of that, not until she’d seen her brothers, not until she’d found them and made sure they were safe.

She spotted him finally, and with a sob rushed over to practically crash into him. “Edgar, Edgar, Edgar,” she was babbling a bit, unable to help it as she hugged onto him tightly, then pulled back to look him over, to make sure that he was alright. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?” She asked rapidly.

´ ･ .  ✶ –––––––––––––––

The attack was sudden ––– too sudden to notice even a hint of until it was far too late. The recoil from the round of vicious explosions sent Edgar’s body crashing painfully to the ground. But, miracuously, other than that, he was unhurt. He was lucky. Because as he lifted his head in the aftermath, he saw the absolute disaster that had been left behind through the waves of billowing smoke. No. No, please. Terror gripped his entire being as he scrambled up to standing. Not this. Anything but this. But as he heard the horrified screams echo around him and saw that damned Dark Mark hanging above the growing chaos, he knew there was no way to ignore it. It was Death Eaters. It was Voldemort. 

Immediately, despite his fear, despite every warring thought in his mind telling him to flee, he ran off into the thick of the mess ––– grasping onto people's shoulders and trying to shove his way through as he looked desperately, single-mindedly for his siblings. It might have been cruel and selfish, but he didn’t care. They were all that mattered to him in that moment. He couldn’t lose them. He wouldn’t. Not when they were all together again. They were all he had left. 

“Amelia?! Felix?!” He screamed as loud as he could, hoping to be heard over the cacophony of others around him ––– shouting out just as he was. But there was no sign of either one of them, and Edgar could feel himself begin to fall into a panic. No. Please. Not them. Not them. 

But then he heard it. Someone calling his name; the sound so wonderfully familiar. “AMELIA!” he cried back, and just as he did, he saw her rushing towards him. Edgar met her in the middle ––– their bodies slamming together as he wrapped his arms tight and protective around his sister and just held her. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Are you?” Once she leaned back, he took that chance to look her over frantically himself, tears spilling from his eyes, but relief flowing through him knowing that she was here and safe; standing and talking and breathing. But… “Felix. I-I don’t ––– I don’t know where Fe is, Lia. We ––– we need to find him.” 

The very last place Edgar wanted to be was at the Ministry’s ball; save nothing for the rescue plan that underlaid it all. He had actively tried to avoid anything having to do with the Order or the looming war since he’d woken up. The pain of everything was too fresh; his mind still not quite in the right state of things. But then those fucking feathers appeared, and the followed arrest of Narcissa Malfoy, and, suddenly, they were being summoned for a meeting by Dumbledore himself. At first, Edgar had heavily debated just ignoring the entire thing ( consequences be damned ) and not attending period, but his conscious wouldn’t allow him to do so ––– the guilt was too great. 

But as he stood as far from the crowds as he could in the Atrium, he wished that he could just ignore his bloody feelings and bleeding heart for once. Honestly, if his sister wasn’t part of the main efforts, maybe he would have had more of a chance. Rowena, did the whole thing make him sick to his stomach. It was too bloody soon to get back into the thick of things like this, wasn’t it? And on such a large scale? Hadn’t they risked enough? Luckily, it seemed like he wasn’t the only one with doubts. It made him feel better about the entire situation. He wasn’t alone ––– he wasn’t cruel for his hesitations. 

Edgar let out a long breath as she watched people dance and laugh around him without a care. He felt utterly drained. Hollow.That is, until he caught sight of Andromeda Tonks just a short distance away from him, and a sharp pang sympathy run through him instead ––– prompting him over to her side. “How are you?” he asked gently, though the words felt brittle. And then, after another pause, “I’m sorry about your sister,” he added quietly, and truly, he meant it ––– though he wasn’t resolved in her rescue still ––– he couldn’t imagine being in her position with one of his own siblings.