in the midnight hour

Tarquin had decided before he had even entered Hogwarts, that he would never let himself need anyone. Thea was the exception obviously but she was his sister. He had seen his mother destroy herself craving approval from others and he had told himself he would never be that weak. Even at Hogwarts, he had always felt removed from everyone else; how many friendships had he burned down before they had a chance to turn into something that could hurt him? She was the exception though; Tarquin would happily break every single one of his rules if it meant he could keep her close to him.

He laughed lightly, returning her pointed look with one of his own. “Oh, you know I will,” his voice held a hint of teasing but there was no use pretending otherwise. Tarquin couldn’t help the grin that spread across his lips. He loosened his grip slightly, giving her a moment to relax and pressing a gentle kiss below the curve of her jaw, both as a reminder and an assurance. “Luckily, I’ll have you to save me-” he truly did feel like he could go on kissing her forever, the feeling so familiar yet so exciting every single time. Tarquin felt alive when they were intertwined together and for someone who had gone through life half numb, that was no small thing. He trailed his lips along her jaw, his voice low, “What would I do without you?”

The truth was, Amelia would take all of the fear and the panic and the frustration that came with their countless fights and his reckless need to throw himself into dangerous situations. She would take it ten times over, a hundred times over because he was hers in a way no one else would ever be. Growing up, she’d had her brothers, of course, later on, she’d had Greta and Angie and Thea, too, and she loved them in that fierce way only someone who opened themselves up so rarely could. They were parts of her soul but Tarquin was her heart. That fact had never stopped being terrifying, being exhilarating, no matter how many years passed. It never would

Brows furrowing and a retort on the tip of her tongue, Amelia just rolled her eyes instead. He would and they both knew it, just as well as they both knew she’d patch him up and scream at him and then hold onto him so tightly their heartbeats synced once they finally went to bed. “Yeah,” she agreed, “you are pretty lucky.” She barely had time to smirk before she was kissing him again, all the panic from the night before fading away under his familiar touch. “Well,” she began, forehead creasing as if she really had to think about how to answer that. “For one, you’d probably still be bleeding all over everything.” Another pointed look, because she simply couldn’t let the matter go, and then her expression softened the way it only ever did with him. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out, huh?” And even after years and years of pushing and pulling at the limits of her vulnerability with him, the admission still had her heart fluttering, nerves prompting her to pull back up to kiss her again. 

Was it normal to feel intimidated and or nervous around Amelia Bones?  It had to be, right?  This was a perfectly normal response and not entirely about her shiny hair and, you know, her lips.  They were nice lips, but that wasn’t why Gwen was nervous.  Not at all.

“Oh um.”  She pushed her glasses back, resting them on the top of her head.  She needed the glasses, but maybe if Amelia was blurry she’d stop acting like a basket case.  “No.  No, this is a – it’s a great time.  Perfect.  And yes.  Yes, that’s uh – that is what I do.”  She took in a deep breath.  “Sorry, okay.  Yes.  Yes, I specialize in poisons and antidotes.” 

Without waiting for a response she turned to the small fridge she had nestled under her desk.  Electricity was so cool.  She pulled out a bottle of lemonade, handing it to the woman, trying not to look at her hair.  Oh my god.  Stop it.  “Can I help you with something?”  She managed to get out without sounding like an idiot.

Amelia knew the Lockhart boy by name and reputation if nothing else, and admittedly she was relieved to find that Gwen seemed notably different from the stories she’d heard about Gilderoy. Even still, she was somewhere between faintly curious and mildly concerned for the girl.

Amelia blinked at her for a moment, waiting, processing, and slowly her lips turned up into a faint but genuinely amused smile. “Do you need some water? Or a seat?” Tone gentle, trying hard not to be rude or condescending (shocking, she knows), she arched an eyebrow. With a nod of her head, she took the confirmation in stride.

The lemonade was cool in her hands and cooler on her tongue, and she took a long drink as much to appease Gwen as to give herself a second to think. “You know who I am, I take it? And what department I run?” If a little arrogance bled into her tone, who could blame her? Cocking her head to the side, hair drifting over her shoulder, she appraised the younger woman. “As I’m sure you can imagine, poisons and antidotes are pretty important things to have on hand for us, but our usual supplier seems to have fled the country.” She let the words hang there, simply arching an eyebrow instead of asking the logical next question.

Thea waved her hand at Amelia’s compliment, pushing it away as if it was nothing. Of course, she tried to be extra kind to Amelia, knowing that the other woman didn’t generally see very many kind people in her day. The Ministry was full of bastards like her father. Men who didn’t care about other people’s lives except their own. Thea ultimately thought those people had some kind of good in them, but they chose not to show it. Why, she truly couldn’t understand. It was so much better to be kind, in her opinion. “Ah, no, that’s you to me,” she grinned, sending the comment off with a wink.

A chuckle escaped at the thought of Amelia being forced into an arranged marriage. She highly doubted anyone could tie her down, even if her parents were trying to force her into it. Fortunately, the Bones family was one of the good ones. Sometimes, she missed the thought of being a part of it. “To each their own, that’s for certain,” she said, shaking her head. “Then again, I love reading history books about Normandy, which is, uh, a Muggle war battle… So who am I to judge?” Thea shook her head, thinking about the awful politics that still existed in their world. Of course, there were relationships that seemed as though they worked, but even then, Thea couldn’t help but feel badly that they didn’t get any kind of choice. “Sounds like good work, even if it’s a bit boring,” she said, laughing ever so slightly. “If you ever need some excitement, I’ll come running in and spray bubbles everywhere and then leave.” At Amelia’s question, Thea shook her head. “It’s still in the works, really, but I want to write a book for young adults. Here. In the Wizarding world. About a Squib who’s roommates with a wizarding stripper.” Thea laughed as she said it. “I know, I know, it sounds mad.”

Sometimes she forgot just how nice it was to be around Thea, the thought caught somewhere amongst countless memories she tried to forget. As long as they’d known each other, she’d been nothing short of wonderful, Amelia laughed abruptly, the sound bringing a smile to her lips. “I’m not known for my generosity, Thea.” From anyone else, it might have sounded self-deprecating, but her tone held nothing more than a faint trace of sarcasm, a nonchalant shrug coming with it. Sure, she admired generosity in her brother, in her sisters in law, in Thea herself, but it could be little more than detriment if she ever showed such a thing herself. 

There was something like satisfaction in her eyes at Thea’s reaction. It’s not like she was the kind of person who needed any kind of reassurances - certainly not anymore - but she was glad to find someone thought the idea as truly ridiculous as she did. As if anyone could force Amelia to do anything she didn’t want to. “I can’t remember the last time I read for fun,” Amelia admitted. Even when she’d been out with her concussion, her entertainment had been the reports her secretary sent over. “If I did, though, I can’t imagine my taste in books would be too far off from yours. Maybe just a little more.... magical.” Catching herself, her eyes widened, hoping she hadn’t crossed a line. Eyes creasing as she smiled, the openness of her expression reserved for only a select few, she nodded. “Noted. The next time my coworkers are driving me crazy, I’ll call for you right away.” Cocking her head as she listened, she drummed her fingers on the table absentmindedly. “No, no. It sounds interesting. Where’d that idea come from, though?”

“ they’re too busy, ” he mused, louder than strictly necessary –– just so anyone loitering in the corridor could overhear and scurry off to do their job. or pretend to do their job, at the very least. the bar wasn’t very high for any of them. “ with their personal lives and their beauty sleep. ” dropping his satchel to the floor, alastor sunk deep into a chair and dragged a hand through his hair. “ and all their little feelings. ” they weren’t incompetent, not even a little bit. nobody got through the doors of the dmle by being anything less than excellent. but they were lazy and they were caught up with a million other things that didn’t fucking matter. if your private life went up in flames, it was time for a promotion. so if nothing else, even if they weren’t on the same side, at least he and amelia were on the same page. 

whistling lowly, he pulled an unimpressed face at the mention of late reports. “ tell you what, bones, ” alastor started, shoulders coming up in the smallest shrug. “ i’ll take the hit wix if you take the trainee aurors. they’re going to work me into an early grave. ” he almost smiled, tired amusement bleeding into his voice. “ or worse, retirement. ”

Amelia’s lips twitched up into some semblance of a smile, and she listened intently for the sound of footsteps turning away from the door. “At the cost of too many other’s personal lives and beauty sleep, of course.” Having said her peace, anyone choosing to linger clear on just how she felt on the matter, she waved her hand. The door to her office closed with a click, and her empty hand dropped back to mess with the edges of one of the stacks before her. If Moody was going to stick around, she wasn’t going to just invite whoever happened to pass by to listen in on whatever complaints one or the other was sure to have. “Clearly they are not following our example.” The frustration in her tone had taken on a wry, self-deprecating edge, and she pushed her chair a few inches further from her desk as if physical distance from the whole mess would help.

“Deal.” It was a shit deal, truly, but Amelia really would’ve dropped anything to get out of the office. “Don’t even joke about that,” Amelia said sternly, pointing a finger at him. “If you retire, the whole department is royally fucked and I will never forgive you.” Every now and then she would get like this, late nights and endless busywork causing loose lips as soon as she found herself in the presence of someone she didn’t have to watch her words around. 

he shook his head, an encouraging smile etched across his face.  there was never a dull day at the ministry, was there?  even outside of work hours.  “incompetent is not a word i would have used to describe you in a million years.  i think anyone who would is an idiot.”  it wasn’t like he was going to go bragging about this to the rest of the aurors, though.  she’d asked him to keep it quiet, and he had no intentions of breaking her trust.  “i’m sure you’re a lot sharper than you think you are.  you can’t exactly plan for a surprise.”  even if he was training her, danny was confident that she could easily kick his ass without much trouble.  it was as much for her confidence as it was for her actual ability.  “but i’m here for you either way.”

Compliments meant little to Amelia, but she appreciated it all the same. Nothing dealt more of a blow to her than her confidence being shaken, and no matter how much time passed she couldn’t stop thinking back on the attack and all the ways she’d failed. The idea that she might be alone in those thoughts was a reassurance she’d never admit she needed. “I think anyone who would is asking for proof that I’m not.” A twitch of her lips, though faint, carried that same confidence that had gotten her concussed in the first place. “Nothing should be able to surprise me in the first place,” she retorted. Really, there was the biggest problem of it all; sure, she’d been the first one to draw her wand, the first to take someone down, but she’d still failed to see how the Death Eaters might get through their well-planned defense. Wand flicking idly between her fingers, she steeled herself. “C’mon. Test me. Tell me what all I need to work on.”

ofthebcnes‌:

By some stroke of luck, Amelia had actually managed to tear herself away from her work at the designated time. Okay, maybe it wasn’t luck so much as extreme frustration - the system of organized chaos spread across her desk was great, thanks, she didn’t need her secretary cleaning things up. If she’d wanted to run around her office pulling files, she would’ve put them away in the first place, thanks. And so she’d given up and stormed out of her office the moment the clock struck one, spending the elevator ride fuming in the vain hopes she’d get it out of her system before she reached the Atrium. Of course, she was only half successful, but she figured she knew Emmeline well enough by now that the other woman could handle a little of Amelia’s ranting. At least she’d calmed enough that she wasn’t about to lash out at Emm herself. Crossing the Atrium in quick strides, heels clicking on the tile, she realized she thankfully couldn’t have been more than a minute behind her. “Vance. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” Her lips twitched up into an unbidden smile, and she spread her arms in a half-shrug. “I made it on time, surprisingly.”

Barely a minute had passed before the lift doors opened again, and Emmeline smiled as she turned to face Amelia. “Not at all. It hadn’t even crossed my mind to come and hunt you down yet. Actually, you’re lucky I looked at my watch when I did, else I might have been late. It’s so easy to get carried away in the work.” She tilted her head towards the main entrance questioningly. There was a good café down the road which a lot of Ministry employees went to for lunch, enough that during the week it was often difficult to get a table but today it should be quiet enough. “Is the café good for you?” As she started to walk she flashed Amelia another smile. “It’s probably best if we don’t talk about what we were working on but did you have a productive morning?”

Emmeline was such a reassuring presence if for no reason other than she understood. Amelia put her all into her work, cared deeply for it; few could see the bigger picture, but if Emmeline didn’t she’d never given that away. Nodding her head, the barest hint of a smile crossed her lips. “Trust me, I am right there with you. And on a weekend, too - what kind of people does that make us, do you think?” It was on the tip of her tongue, the desire to remind the other woman that the DMLE needed more people like her, but she kept her mouth shut. With a gesture towards the door, she began walking alongside Emmeline, taking a deep breath of the clean air as soon as the made it outside. “Yeah, yeah, Department of Mysteries,” and was that a teasing smile on her lips? “No,” Amelia admitted, all hints of lightheadedness disappearing into her scowl. “My secretary reorganized - or just organized, whatever - in my absence. I spent half the morning just finding everything I needed.”

Whether the employees of the DMLE liked it or not, Amelia had always taken a particularly hands-on approach to her position. Even as she was rising up the political chain, she’d made sure to check in on all the various subjects of the department; it was good for job performance, she figured, knowing that the boss could come by at any moment. Amelia liked to think she helped, too, and besides - there were few better ways to win her approval than to impress her on one of these impromptu visits. Long overdue for a trip down to the Obliviators’ wing and long bored of the endless paperwork, she stepped off the elevator with nothing more than the click of her heels to alert her presence. Making her way down the corridor, she offered smiles to those hard at work, raised eyebrows to those messing around, and the odd tip to some of the newer recruits. It was no surprise to find Freya hard at work when she reached the woman’s desk, and Amelia’s expression was approving, some of her hard demeanor falling away. “Morning, Freya.” She certainly didn’t choose favorites, and she certainly didn’t trust the Avery surname, but she would always appreciate those who were damned good at what they did. “Working on anything I should know about?”

“I appreciate that,” Barty replied. Any other upstart with a family name worth more than 2 knuts might feel offended even with the implication that someone has power over them even given the political power of their family. But Barty wants to prove that he isn’t like that.

“All right, I guess I could spare a few minutes,” Barty decided to indulge Amelia and take a seat on the chair before her desk. He knew quite well that she might just be using him to get information on Bagnold, but there was no reason that he can’t do the same thing. Bagnold probably won’t miss Barty if he was gone for just a while. Settling on the chair, Barty shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. The Minister does their laundry on Wednesdays. Groceries on Saturdays. Oh, she invited a few members of the Wizengamot over for dinner recently.” The last part was harmless enough to be shared, he figured, but interesting enough.

Even though the Bones had danced on the fringes of pureblood high society, Amelia had long since known not to put stock into something as meaningless as a last name. No, what mattered was what you could make of yourself, not what was handed to you. Although she respected Crouch Sr., in a way - respected Crouch Jr. in a way, too - she wasn’t about to dole out compliments where they weren’t due. Teasing tone aside, though, the compliment was due; anyone could see Barty was intelligent, and he was probably a better politician than she was.

“Thank god,” Amelia groaned, shoving her papers to the side but smiling in satisfaction. All the work really, really had her needing something as simple as a mundane conversation. “So she is human,” she remarked dryly. “Seems like her life’s pretty put together.” Pressing her lips together and rolling her eyes, Amelia continued. “Of course she did. As long as it wasn’t Lestrange, all the power to her.”

“The Order doesn’t care about anything but their own agenda-” he scoffed, “Not that it matters that it’s our fucking job and everyone in our department is far more qualified than them running around trying to play heroes, not caring about who they get killed.” His words may have been false but the frustration in his tone was very real. “And all it does is create more problems for us because at the end of the day, we’re going to be the one to deal with them.” Evan nodded in agreement with her words. At least he didn’t have to convince her that the Order was barely any different from the Death Eaters since she already believed it. At least the Death Eaters owned their brutality in a manner of speaking, it was necessary to pave the way to a better world. The Order was just trying to hold onto their self righteousness. Still, he could tell that he wasn’t going to get anywhere else when it came to this tonight and he knew Amelia wouldn’t take kindly if she thought she was being pushed in a decision. He had planted the seed and perhaps that would be enough or perhaps he would have to find another way; either way, Evan wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. A smirk of his own appeared on his lips; there was after all more to look forward to tonight. He moved his hand so it was resting on the back of her neck. “Right now, we have better things to do” he said before closing the distance between them and kissing her.

It wasn’t that Amelia didn’t get his frustrations - she did and she echoed every word - it was just that she felt so damned caught between a rock and a hard place. There wasn’t anything in his words she hadn’t already thought during the days, weeks, months of this war, and all the more so over the past few days. But there was so little she had any real power to do about it, though her gut and the need to rebut even the most unintentional implication that she was doing something wrong told her to listen to what he had to say and act. “They’re vigilantes. They’re kids putting lives in harm's way because they think their cause is so righteous that they can’t possibly make the wrong move.” These were the complaints of a professional, sure, but they were the complaints of someone at their wit's end with their hands tied, too. “If we don’t get both the hostages back in one piece, they can expect one hell of a crackdown. Hopefully, both sides are smart enough to see that.” It was the one positive thing she could hope for - the safe return of the kid and the Carrow, leaving her with a good deal less on her plate than any misstep would. Blood already pumping with the heat of her frustrations, there was really only one possible outlet for all Amelia’s angry energy. The second he bridged that divide she was kissing him back, pouring herself into it until it drove all thoughts out - Amelia didn’t do anything by halves, and this was no exception. Separating just enough to speak, she looked at him with dark eyes, still completely in control of her voice. “Take me to your room.”

Tarquin had a habit of pushing away everyone who came too close. He felt like it was safer, that love gave others power over him; permission to hurt him and he couldn’t stand being weak but with her, it never felt like that. Or well, even when it did he could always remind himself that Amelia knew his heart. Perhaps she did have power over him but she had made him happy in a way he could have never imagined and if vulnerability was the price of waking up to her every morning, he would gladly pay it.  

“It’s not on purpose,” or well, not really. He had a habit of jumping in dangerous situations bu that was simply because he liked the thrill of it. He added teasingly, “Besides I got the arrest, didn’t I? If anything you should be congratulating me.” Tarquin smirked at her challenge and in the next moment, flipped them over so he was on top. He felt a twinge of discomfort but paid it no mind, intertwining their hands together and pushing her arms to the top of her head so he was effectively pinning her down. Amelia was so beautiful, it never failed to take his breath away. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised as he leaned down to kiss her. 

Nostalgia had no place in her life; no, Amelia had always kept her gaze firmly on the present, the future. Yet it still crossed her mind every now and then, in moments of calm when it was just the two of them, the outside world locked firmly away, just how integral he was to her life. They’d met when they were eleven - just two kids who could challenge each other. Even before they stopped being idiots, he was in her life for the long haul; someone she trusted with her life long before she trusted him with her heart, too. It was something she was proud of, how far they’d come, how fiercely they fought for each other time and time again; maybe she’d never say it out loud but she didn’t need to.

Amelia didn’t say a word, just gave him a pointed look with her eyebrow raised, a sarcastic hum of agreement making it clear just what she thought of that. “Congratulations.” Dry tone did little to hide just how proud she was; it came at an unnecessarily high cost, but they’d taken down a major target. “Don’t do it again.” No matter how many times she found herself here - and it was far from uncommon - and no matter how completely she trusted him, there was always that jolt of panic. Control was not something to be given up easily, or at all, except with him she wasn’t giving up anything, was she? Squeezing his hands, she was quick to relax, to let him pin her in place without complaint. “You always do,” Although her tone was still challenging because who would she be without it, she kissed him back and melted into it.

edgar.

“   I’d hate to add another thing to your plate right now.   ”   Breaking the trend of discussing her abstractedly,   he speaks genuinely for a moment.   He takes a bite of the food they’d just traded,   humming in approval before glancing at his food with slightly less interest.   “   Always regret not ordering the same thing.   ”   He chews intently as she speaks,   having truly been interested in her reply when he asked.   The explanation is shorter than expected,   but then it conveyed the message well enough.   “   I can only imagine.   I don’t envy your position in the slightest.   ”   A chuckle at her suggestion,   brow quirking in interest as she mentions stupid decisions having been made.   “   Oh I’ll get right on that.   I’m sure the interests of our healers would be best devoted to the speedy recovery of concussions rather than the cure for dragon pox or spattergroit.   ”   He shakes his head good-naturedly,   “   not to rub salt in the wound,   but being unable to think straight is why we suggest bed rest.   ”   And then a peppering of brotherly encouragement,   a reminder that she might need.   “   You’re doing the best you can.   ”

There it was - that twinge of guilt again. Amelia loved her brother more than just about anyone else, even if she always seemed to be at his throat. Everything he did was because he cared, and even when she hated it she knew there was no one better to have on her team. “Well, now you have my permission.” It was as close as she was likely to get to something more heartfelt. With a huff and a longsuffering eye roll, she gestured that he should keep the container. “One day you’ll stop doubting my taste. Keep it, I’m so hungry that they both taste amazing.” Really, Amelia didn’t want to get frustrated, but the longer she dwelt on work the harder it was to ignore. “You do have good timing,” she commented, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, “I’m not usually home this early.” Taking another bite of food to hide her scowl, she used the distraction to drive thoughts of work as far away as she could manage, and her response was as snappy as ever but without the heat. “Do you not get more concussions? Seems like a pretty pressing issue to me.” It was simply her job as the younger sister, to argue for the sake of arguing, and besides, Amelia certainly wasn’t about to back down. “I did rest. Followed your directions to the T - or, close enough. I didn’t go into work, at least.” Expression softening, her lips twitched. “I just hope it’s enough.”

Tarquin was able to brush off so many things. If someone else had told him that he wouldn’t have even flinched, would have barely registered it really. But this was the power he had always given her; to be able to leave him undone with nothing but a few words. He had heard so much worse - even from her - and yet they cut to the bone. Perhaps it was because he felt the same way she did. It was true after all; he had hurt everyone he had ever loved. Everyone who had gotten even slightly close. He didn’t need her to tell him that her life would have been so much better without him. She would be spared the pain, the heartbreak, the empty promises, all of it. There was a flash of unmistakable hurt on his features before they hardened to stone once more and he let out a short laugh, unable to look at her for a moment, “Can’t argue with that.” 

He knew it was different. He would never hold not trying against Amelia because he knew very well how difficult he mad it. He knew he was his own worst enemy, that the way he shut everyone out was impossible to get through. If he destroyed everything that he held dear he wouldn’t have to wonder why. How many times had he pushed Amelia just to see how true her claims of devotion were; had done it without even realizing it. He challenged her because as much as she was the only person he had ever seen a future with he had always thought that every relationship inevitably end. He ended it himself, struck the death blow so he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore. “It’s not your fault,” he shook his head because he couldn’t even articulate any of this to himself. The word love took something out of him; something that he had tried so hard to bury. They hadn’t been there when they needed each other the most and what did that say about them? About love? Love had been terrifying but it had also been the only thing that had made him want to live. He had been able to imagine a future for them and now the very thought made him want to laugh so hard that he would choke. “I don’t know,” he replied softly, “All I know of love is you.”

Something about her apologizing hurt. Maybe it was the fact that there had never been a need for it before; that they had understood they could let each other see the parts that no one else would and they would move past it. He knew he wasn’t going to bring this up; this was too close to the truth, the love they had buried too close to the surface. He didn’t entirely let go when she pulled away slightly but did look down at her and before he knew it, he was holding her face between his hands, his thumb brushing away the last of the tears, “Alright?”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, that that brief flash of hurt felt distinctly like a punch to the gut. It was exactly what her words were meant to elicit; Amelia wanted him to feel as off-balance and raw as she did and the knowledge that he’d at least felt something should have been so damn satisfying. She tried to make it feel satisfying, but the part of her that never wanted to walk away from him again hated that she caused that. But Amelia was stubborn above all else and, sure, she could still read him so well and that was truly inconvenient, but she didn’t have to show it. “I’m shocked you’re seeing reason.” Another arched eyebrow, another breezy glance away. If she was going to feel this - this anger, this loss, this chaos than she was going to pick at him until he was bleeding too, challenge after challenge. Was she punishing herself, or punishing him?

No matter how many times it hung between them, the question of blame, Amelia knew that they would never really see eye to eye on it. Sure, he’d locked the door between them and thrown away the key, but she’d turned her back on him too without ever bothering to ask herself why. Amelia Bones was no coward, but she knew deep down she’d let him wreck it all because she was terrified that if she tried to hold onto him it wouldn’t make a difference. Amelia inhaled deep, shaky - too shaky for someone who was supposed to be so strong, so unmoved by something so menial as an ex. But he wasn’t just some ex, was he? “Don’t say that,” she said, not surprised to find she was almost begging. “Please.” In for a penny, in for a pound - if he was going to see her so broken, he could deal with this, too. Her voice sounded so lost, so desperate, even to her own ears and it was only the knowledge of her own repression skills that kept her from bottling it up right then, from bolting with a shred of her dignity. Better men than Tarquin feared her, he should too. Yet it hit her wave after wave, how much she loved him - had loved him, she corrected herself before that thought could take root. “We ended for a reason.” The words were an anchor for herself rather than a response to his words, meant to remind her that underneath all of this they hated each other now. Except it didn’t work, not for a second, because they hadn’t really had a good reason at all, had they?

It was nothing more than instinct, to let her eyes close, to lean into the warmth of his hands, and Amelia didn’t have the strength to resist it. For a few breaths, she just stayed like that, hands still balled up in his shirt, connected despite the distance between their bodies. For a few breaths, she gathered herself, knowing with such a sinking certainty that if she didn’t get her head straight her gaze would go straight to his lips the second she opened her eyes. She opened her eyes. Her gaze drifted to his lips. Fuck. Meeting his eyes and swallowing hard, she nodded, casting him a weak smile. Amelia wasn’t the physical sort; she rarely let anyone touch her, but time and bad blood couldn’t make him any less familiar. “Yeah,” she said, trying to find the strength to break eye contact and step back. It seemed all of her strength had fallen away some time while she was making a fool of herself. “I’m alright. Thank you.” 

A chuckle escaped her lips as Amelia made the quip about her always being late. Amelia Bones was never quite on time, but Thea had never minded. She’d gotten used to rolling with what life had given her. Thea had been dealt bad hand after bad hand, so someone’s being late didn’t exactly bother her, nor speak to their character. What was important, to Thea, anyways, was the way someone showed their kindness; showed they cared. “Ah, well, you know I will always have a glass of wine waiting for you, even if you’re late,” Thea grinned, sliding into the chair.

She could see the other woman wanted to make a comment on the customer’s taste in books, but Thea let it slide. “Ah, well, she’d mentioned the dad eventually… overbearing, as she put it. The father literally paid for a husband for his daughter. Bought him. With money. I know we have some horrible practices but…” Thea trailed off, shaking her head. “I suppose fiction is just that for a reason, yea? But I can’t even believe someone reading that and thinking it realistic.” Of course, Thea had lived in the Muggle world for so long, sometimes she forgot about the antiquated practices that the Wizarding one still practiced. Betrothals were something that she couldn’t fathom being involved with. “Annual updates?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “Making it safer?” A part of her understood that Hit Wix purposefully put themselves in dangerous positions, but that didn’t mean she wished them to get hurt, either. “Ah, it’s been fine. I’ve gotten a few moments to actually write for myself, which is the best part. Working on a new book, this time wizarding fiction.”

No one would ever dare call Amelia cheery, but there was a handful of people who actually made her feel open, relaxed. Work would never be further than the back of her mind, but she could bring herself to put it on hold for a moment for people like Thea. It almost made her feel like herself again, like the Amelia she’d been before everything had fallen to shit - still stubborn, still hotheaded, still dedicated, but happy, easier with a laugh. “You’re too good to me, Thea,” Amelia teased, if only because she could never bring herself to show just how genuine the words were.

Not for the first time in her life, Amelia thanked Merlin that the Bones were no longer considered one of the elite, if for no reason other than it allowed her to avoid the rather arcane tradition of arranged marriage. Really, it would take an army to force Amelia to do anything she didn’t want to do anyways, but at least that wasn't a concern. “I can’t imagine reading something like that for fun, but to each their own.” This time, Amelia didn’t bother to hide her disdain. “Arranged marriages are bad enough, I’d hate to think of them with money thrown into the mix.” Admittedly, she was sure more than a few marriage agreements had been signed with an exchange of coin, yet she relied on the only marginally more stomichable idea that politics played more of a role than money. “Better explaining procedures, changing what is no longer working,” Amelia nodded in agreement, listing off the bulk of what the updates revolved around. “It’s mostly semantics, really.” Even though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d read for her own enjoyment, Amelia still perked up. “And what’s your next bestseller about?”

Amelia appreciated bluntness so that was what he had always given her. She trusted him because he was straight with her. Or well because she thought he was being straightforward which was what really mattered anyway. He wasn’t the only one who thought that the Order shouldn’t be allowed to run around doing whatever the fuck they wanted. Vigilantism was never a good look for law enforcement. “Which is why I’m glad you’re coming back to us,” he reached for her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He smirked, raising an eyebrow, “Oh, I wouldn’t dare fucking up. Couldn’t dream of letting you down.” Evan worked late hours and had a stellar record; he was well aware that Amelia would never trust someone she didn’t think was competent. Besides it allowed him more responsibility, something he had been playing to his advantage since the very beginning.

 She was right about that at least and the reminder made anger flare up in his chest. What was the fucking use of a plan if they weren’t going to follow it? Death Eaters were the one who needed to be more organized, who needed to cut out those on the inside who were weak and couldn’t hold their own but those were considerations for another time. “I agree. Though that was undone by the Order and we can’t predict what they will do now.” Evan nodded, “We’ll find him.” He moved slightly closer to her, “We’re not condoning the Death Eaters. This is getting out of hand, Amelia. What happens if the Order chooses to respond to the Death Eaters in kind? What happens when someone innocent is killed based on nothing but the Order’s suspicion and misguided judgement.” He made it clear that Evan considered those scenarios not just a possibility but a matter of time, “It’s us that the public is going to blame for it.” He traced his finger along her jaw, his touch soft as he held her chin lightly. Evan’s tone softened, dropping to a whisper, “Just think about it, yeah?”

It was probably improper, to be sleeping with an employee - even if he didn’t answer directly to her, even if she truly had little power over most aspects of his job - yet she’d never really felt anything close to guilt about it. Not that Amelia felt guilt often anyways; no, that feeling was saved for Gregory, for Tarquin. Evan had never been anything short of professional outside of these clandestine meetings, and she was confident he knew she’d end this meaningless little fling without a second thought the moment he was anything else. She figured he could probably deduce that she’d end it if he ever proved unworthy of her respect, too. “Hope the DMLE missed me as much as you did.” There was a wry smile of her lips, expression just short of an eye roll. As if it mattered; Amelia would get everything back on track whether or not they were thrilled about it. 

Even the best-laid plans, Amelia thought, nodding her agreement. “You would think, if anyone, the Order would want us to do our job.” It was perhaps the root of her frustrations; between her brothers, she knew just what the Order stood for, yet they still tried to undermine the very system in place to achieve it. “Do you really think I don’t know all of that? Both sides take lives into their own hands, both sides think themselves above the law - for all their proclaimed differences, they pose the same risks.” And yet. And yet one was actively investigated, and one was only reprimanded once the damage was done. The conversation seemed to have reached an impasse; Amelia wasn’t quite prepared to turn the Order into targets, no matter what his opinions on the matter were. “I will,” Amelia agreed, serious expression fading into a smirk. She wasn’t sure when she’d moved closer - or who had moved closer, really - but the already limited space between them had dwindled away. “But not just now.” There was a challenge in her eyes, and a question, too. Are we done with all this talk yet?

Tarquin didn’t have the best coping mechanisms, was self destructive to an insane degree but if it could distract him from how he always felt like he was on the verge of something disastrous then he would take it. He didn’t know what he was feeling about Amelia being here; didn’t know why he constantly wanted to go and check on her or why every time he thought about how much worse it could have been he was so scared. He put all those emotions away and replaced them with ones that he knew all too well: anger. “Its none of your fucking business, Amelia,” he replied coldly because he was not going to go into details of what had happened with her. He briefly wondered what she would think about the fact that the Death Eater he had been dueling was this close to casting the Killing Curse and how Tarquin had felt absolutely nothing in that moment but a part of him didn’t want to know because what if she was able to brush it off? “You shouldn’t be standing in the light. It’ll hurt more. Or standing at all.” He frowned as soon as the words were past his lips, wishing so desperately that he wasn’t concerned about something as minor as her headache getting worse. “Aw, did I hurt you ego?” He scoffed, trying so hard to find his footing in his cold, indifferent self. Still, when Amelia took his hand, he walked them both over to the couch, sitting down and as a result pulling Amelia down with him. He looked at the ceiling, willing himself not to glance at her, trying not to notice how gentle her touch seemed to be or how the contact reassured him that she was really there, really safe.

Anger flashed in her eyes, and she hated that this was the emotion to bring her mind into some semblance of focus. “Suit yourself. It doesn’t look like you’re on death’s door, so what do I care?” Where he was all cold cruelty, her temper had always burned hot. Amelia could be as calculated, as pointed as the worst of them, but the more infuriated she grew the less she cared about what she said. The less she cared about the implications that it mattered to her, whether he was hurt, where she’d usually make it clear how little he mattered to her these days. Maybe she shouldn’t have noticed - she certainly shouldn’t have dwelt on it - that even when spoken as if it were an insult, the words were almost concerned. “I’m not incapacitated, Tarquin.” A snappy tone and annoyed glare were her only hope of hiding the fact that the nickname she’d used to say with such fondness had been so close to slipping from her lips. “When have I ever needed validation? I know what I’m capable of, regardless of whatever you might have to say about it.” Amelia scoffed, all those times where his opinion had been second only to her own tossed to the wind. The sudden change from standing to sitting had her dropping his hand, reaching up to put pressure on her forehead, steadying herself. As soon as it passed, though, she returned to that same steel, one hand going to her wand, the other grabbing ahold of his hand once more, cradling it in her own. Muttering healing spells and watching the skin knit back together, her voice was too soft, too tired for this new normal between them. “There. Good as new.”