there's gotta be something said.

neatly folded clothes. highlighted passages in books. woman with a vision. three am writing by candlelight. kissed by fire. bigger than her body. more than you bargained for. that storybook kind of love. putting on her warpaint. eyes of classic novels and poetry. a bad bitch made up of magic. when we were kids we swore we’d never die.

we outlast hate w e  r i s e  a b o v e you can knock us down but you can’t kill love

influences: amelia bones;;

i want to be amelia when i grow up. she has a job she’s proud of and speaks her mind regardless of any consequences she knows will come her way, whether verbal harassment or something worse. she’s fierce and dedicated to helping others. this is a goal i have. i want to become an advocate for sexual abuse and domestic violence victims survivors. i want to help the vulnerable with that fire i also have inside of myself but also softness when appropriate. she’s a role model and i once was to the kids i’ve worked with through the years. i put that passion into her character. i think of my girls in the group home, i think of my kindergartners. she gives me that outlet. amelia reminds me of the positive traits that reflect my own which has been so beautiful to write.

along with the positives there are some drawbacks, even for amelia bones. she’s so entrenched in work that she loses opportunities outside of the ministry, including time with family and friends. she’ll have short conversations on the streets but has a difficult time sitting and having idle chat. her job is in part a defense mechanism that way her heart won’t break. except when it came to her one weakness: amos diggory.

amos is her one. regardless of when they became a true couple, amelia knew he was it so when the breakup happened her insides hurt so much she couldn’t breathe. it’s the only time she’d felt such intense emotions. she and amos having the complicated relationship they have taps into my emotions, both the great and the pain, of my “one”. i will say that none of that is negative. writing those emotions out is a release. writing in general gets my emotions out which is why i’m so careful when creating my characters.

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why amelia?

in an old roleplay amelia was a wanted connection for someone writing edgar. i liked the edgar they were portraying so i thought i’d give it a go. based on edgar’s bio the family was jewish so i had to search for a jewish face claim which wasn’t the easiest task. but when natalie portman landed in my lap i knew she was my amelia. her gifs spoke with the ideas i had for her. picking up amelia bones was an awesome choice on my part.

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extra influences;;

amelia playlist.

amelia & amos playlist.

but when he loves me i feel like i’m f l o a t i n g when he calls me pretty i feel like somebody even when we fade eventually to nothing you will always be my favorite form of l o v i n g

With an audible sigh, she folded her paper daintily and set it in her lap as her eyes landed upon the plate already set across from her. “I suppose it wouldn’t matter if I did mind,” she commented off handedly as she gave a lazy wave of her hand to the seat. It was busy enough that the woman’s excuse was reasonable, but Narcissa knew better.

As one of the daughters of the Black household, she was fully aware of her family’s prominence in society. Eyes were constantly on them whether it was out of severance, jealousy, or suspicion. Now that the wizarding war was gearing up, it was to be expected that people would be observing them. It was why Narcissa took extra care with how she held herself in public. No matter the reason, she needed to be the shining example of what a member of the House of Black should be.

She pushed the paper across the table to the older woman. “Have my Prophet. I’m finished with it and since you’re so interested in it, there’s no reason for you to spare a knut to get your own,” Narcissa mentioned flatly.

Narcissa’s response amused Amelia more than anything. The young girl wanted control. She likely expected control — or wanted to give off the air of having more control than she actually did. She was the youngest Black. The baby tended to have different expectations than others in family dynamics. Narcissa had to be what her older sisters weren’t. She must love that. Who wouldn’t? the thought dripped with sarcasm in Amelia’s mind. But she had no plans of grilling Narcissa about her family. The rest of the Wizarding World already was. Amelia was smarter than that.

“Thank you,” Amelia replied neither excited nor disinterested. As she sat down, getting comfortable, Narcissa put her paper on the table. Without reaching for it, she instead put sugar in her tea and stirred it. “While it’s hard to keep your eyes off The Prophet, I don’t know if there’s anything in there that’s already been said. But thank you again. I’ll hold on to this.” She picked up the paper, not to be rude and placed it in her bag. “Hopefully something worth your knut in there,” she said knowing full well that a knut was nothing for the girl. “They make it cheap for a reason, I suppose.” She truly was interested. Have to be on top of everything that’s being written and said.

Amelia looked over at Narcissa before taking a sip of tea. “You look quite lovely, especially compared to the rest of us lot. What’s your secret? I could use a few tips.”

“Probably an indication I’ve been smoking too long,” the man snickered, looking down at the woman fondly. Not that Moody would ever give up his smoking habit— or really any of the vices he has he’s sworn are the only thing that keep him from going crazy these days. Though Amelia was one of the first people he’d look for when he wanted to relax, he found that there hadn’t been much time to do that as of late. It felt like he only saw his friend these days if it had to do with problems with the Order or problems with work. They might not be doing the same thing at work, but both always seemed happy to have someone who understood the frustrations at the Ministry. There were plenty of them these days.

If he recalled many years ago he’d remember summers when they snuck onto his roof so his parents wouldn’t see the pair had stole his father’s bottle of whiskey. Alastor always heard a lecture about it in the morning, but they’d always adored Amelia nonetheless. If anything, they always said he was a terrible influence on the girl. Then during the school years he’d pester her to sneak off to the Astronomy Tower to smoke in the middle of the night— he always promised he’d make sure they didn’t get caught, but they did a few times. Alastor had always been quick to take the blame, even as kids he hated seeing his friend in any trouble. That seemed more like a lifetime ago rather than almost a couple decades.

“A drink,” Moody insisted, watching her with a bit of amusement. “Where would you like to go?” Sticking around Diagon Alley didn’t seem like the best of ideas— the pair would likely be pestered with something they were supposed to be doing if they did.

“Then quit smoking, genius. You’ve gotta be able to run. That wand can’t do everything.” Amelia truly believed that statement. It’s why she learned martial arts. It was smart to have more than one way to defeat and bring down an enemy and Amelia wanted to know any way possible to protect herself and others. “Maybe one day you’ll let me show you a thing or two.” Maybe if they could put energy into training without training it wouldn’t seem like the only reason they were together was because of outrage in the city and the Ministry. It would sure get some pent up energy out. She knew he was strong enough to take care of himself, but she did worry. No one had the ability to exert their strength perfectly. No one. Not even Amelia. Not even Alastor. She didn’t know what she would do were something to happen to him.

They essentially grew up together, having spent all their time at Hogwarts together. While they both were caught up in studies, there was always time spent just the two of them. In fact, there had been rumors that Amelia and Alastor were some sort of item. It was something they laughed about and never let it stop either of them from doing what they did best. Just be around each other when they could and be ...happy. Yes, even Alastor could be happy. If only it were that easy to just be as they had gotten older but real life took over -- responsibilities they took seriously. But after the run and feeling like she could almost fly, Amelia agreed that she and Alastor needed a drink.

“I think we deserve a drink.” She smiled thinking of them being rebels at school drinking, just the two of them. They would laugh and talk and even sit in silence. They were some of Amelia’s favorite memories -- what memories her drunk self had. “We deserve some whiskey somewhere far, far away from here.”

“Amelia, well nice to meet you, although these circumstances could be better” August said, really looking around. As his eyes moved, he replied “and it is, unfortunately. I’m sure its magic will shine again after a good clean and a few well placed spells.”  

August was upset that he had not made it to the famed alley sooner, but that’s life. Clearing his throat, seeming to subconsciously mirror the smaller witch, “well Diagon has to rebuild. It’s the only option. Allowing this state to remain can only appear as a win to those deathmunchers or whatever they are called.” August knew he had not answered all of her questions. And he may, in due time. But not now.

Knowing that she had not seen Amos was a good thing though, giving August a slight ease. Clapping his hands together, he asked “what can I do to help, students for Hogwarts should be preparing for the upcoming school year yeah? I will say, I was well versed in charms, even have the EAGLES to prove it” he said with a wink. 

Its magic will shine again. He was an eternal optimist, obviously. Not that Amelia didn’t believe magic would be brought back to Diagon but it would never be the same. Something precious was taken away the minute the Death Eaters made such a devastating entrance that will forever be an infamous night. She could imagine students and their parents coming to gather their supplies for a new year at Hogwarts -- especially first years. Surely there was going to be apprehension about even sending their beloved children away instead of keeping them close to the vest no matter how many times they would be told that Hogwarts was the safest place for them. That was the magic taken away. Amelia was a realist and knew it would take a long time to heal. However, she would do all she could to ease worries by being a constant presence of a reliable Law Enforcer.

“I wish you could have seen it before this, August. It wasn’t tainted. The least we can do is bring the beauty back. The rest will come in time.” Amelia couldn’t have explained to August what Diagon Alley meant to the wizarding world in Europe. Surely, there was a place similar in America, but he wasn’t there anymore. He was in a new, contentious Britain. Not the best time to visit but she wouldn’t say no to an extra set of hands -- and certainly couldn’t help but chuckle at death munchers.”Death munchers. We should be calling them that from now on.”

Another laugh. “EAGLES? America trying to be unique.” Amelia leaned in. “They’re called OWLs, kiddo,” she winked. “Let’s start with the rubble on the street. Surely your charm work will help tremendously.”

Many, many years ago, if Alastor was being honest, he had fancied Amelia. Perhaps in his youth he might have just been distracted by a gorgeous woman who could put up with him, and also equally give back an attitude if need be. However, he never acted on it. Moody had been far too preoccupied with his studies during his years at school to put much thought into dating anyone. It wasn’t until his seventh year that he’d fallen head over heels for a Ravenclaw just a year younger than him, and anyone who had been close to him at the time knew that hadn’t ended well. Though, through all the years he’d likely admitted to his youthful crush with all the times the pair had gotten drunk together. There wasn’t much Alastor kept from Amelia Bones. Hell, even his mother was fond of the woman. If Isabella Moody couldn’t find Alastor when she visited the Ministry she always sought out Amelia to ask her if she knew where her son was.

Grinning, he shook his head as his gaze moved to her all but forgotten jacket as it fell to the ground. Bloody woman. Taking off just a second after her, Alastor ducked down and picked up her jacket on his way. She knew as well as him he couldn’t leave something forgotten on the ground— even in the midst of a competition. He was at a full sprint trying to catch up to her, and he barely did. His fingers just barely grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her to a stop after the pair ran down Diagon Alley quite a ways. They probably looked like bloody kids, but he was still grinning and now just about out of breath as they stopped. 

“Alright, alright. Bloody hell, woman.” Letting go of her, Moody placed his hands on his knees and lowered his head as he took some time to catch his breath. Maybe he was the one that needed to train more because it took him far too long to get another word out. “Enough. I need a drink.”

Without stopping Amelia turned around, running backwards. “What’s taking you so long, Moods?” She shrugged her shoulders and spread her hands open. Amelia could feel a smile cross her lips and it felt amazing. For a moment it was like nothing had happened. She cut through the breeze with her arms outstretched to the sides like a bird. Now if only she could fly away.

A little squeal came out of Amelia when Alastor grabbed her shirt and she bounced back, bumping into him. Before they separated, she rested her head on his chest and looked up at her long time friend with a head shake and smirk. “What am I supposed to do with you? That training is shite,” she winked, “Nice job grabbing my jacket, though.” Naturally, shite training wasn’t the case at all. At all. Alastor was an incredible Auror with a keen mind and loads to offer both in and outside the office. Amelia and Alastor weren’t people anyone would want to be confronted with on their own, let alone when they were together. It’s fact that there was no other pair to make witches and wizards shake in their boots the way they could.

She felt lucky to have Alastor around. The funny thing was that she was just as protective of him as she was of her though the two wouldn’t say such a thing out loud. It would come out as questioning people in the others’ life, being investigative, watching varying situations and giving honest opinions. Neither of them needed protection but it came with the territory of their friendship -- there was no fighting it. There were plenty of things there was no point in arguing about. Like a drink.

Stretching her arms and legs after the run, Amelia asked, “You need a drink or a drink?”

“Oh, my mum is a fan.” Sophia answered before realizing she probably should not admit that out loud considering. Her family was Pureblood, not one of the elite nor were they interested, but they hadn’t wanted targets on their back by broadcasting they were into anything remotely muggle related. “I have to admit I am more a fan of Romeo and Juliet or Midsummer Night’s dream…” She said with a grin.

Sophia laughed. “Wouldn’t that be something?” It would be a great thing in her mind but she knew a lot of people wouldn’t agree. “Anyone that can turn phrases…” She sighed. “Though my mom finds herself drawn lately to the line from Hamlet, when sorrows come they come not as single spies but in battalions.”

“It’s nice to talk about given what conversations tend to linger on these days…”

“Your mum has good taste,” Amelia couldn’t hide the smile if she wanted to. “I hope one day to pass good taste to my kids.” She double blinked for a second. She hadn’t thought about having children since ...well, since she and Amos ended. She felt that part of her life was over. If it happened, it happened but she hadn’t given it any conscious thought but the unconscious outburst proved being a mother hadn’t been lost on her. 

“Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Quite different plays,” Amelia nodded in approval. “It’s important to appreciate all kinds.” She lightly touched Sophia’s hand and nodded down the Alley for a walk. “I am a very big fan of Misdummer also. Twelfth Night and Richard III are up there as well.”

Listening to Sophia speak softly and lovingly about her mother brought Amelia joy. She hadn’t given thought about actually spending time with her own family in some time. She was much older than Sophia. There was love in the Bones’ family but as they’ve grown, they have other aspects of their lives -- like their careers and war and relationships -- that had taken precedence than Sunday night dinners. I should change that, Amelia thought to herself.

“I would love to hear more about your mum. She sounds like a lovely and interesting woman. May I assume she be little but fierce?”

In his life, Amos had very few weaknesses, nor did he have any addictions. He’d managed to never smoke a cigarette in his life, enjoyed a drink, but only on special occasions and frankly, he just wouldn’t the time to try something as ridiculous as a drug. But he had been addicted to Amelia, from the very moment that his eyes had set on her for the first time. The worst thing about it all, for him was that he knew in his heart that he wanted to marry her, he had known it when he was eleven and a naive little first year, when she had been nearing seventeen and a very grown up sixth year.  He had known it when he was fifteen, he had known it when they kissed for the first time, and he definitely knew it when they were together. And that very fact had started to scare him, he never meant to hurt her, never Amelia. not her.. That had never been his intention. And as she stood infront of him, he just could not deny her a hug. Those eyes. He knew those eyes and he knew as he had been looking into them that she needed one as much as he did. He knew it would not be anything close to a good idea to ever tell her that he had regretted his decision, almost instantaneously, on the morning after in fact.  But telling her that would have only messed her around more, and hurt her further.  But it was over, he had ruined it, and usually he couldn’t bring himself to maintain eye contact with Amelia, let alone hug her.  But these were not ordinary circumstances. 

“Never thank me.”  Amos murmured softly, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to take in the scent of the one person he had ever truly loved. On the first morning that he had awoken without Amelia, Amos thought his heart could not break more than it did on that morning, but this was a close second.  It took everything he had to not surrender to crying.  Swallowing the lump in his chest, he squeezed Amelia in his hold.  

“It’s going to be alright, I promise.” He managed a smile, which was evident in the tone of his voice as he spoke. 

Amelia didn’t know how to not thank Amos. She understood what it meant to not thank someone even if she was thankful, but those two words weren’t thanking him for just that moment. It was for all the moments before. It was for their first kiss followed by childlike laughter. It was for their first date -- or what she thought was their first date but you could never tell with Amos. She was thanking him for always making her smile and laugh till she cried. She was grateful for the passionate moments that didn’t end in laughter, but the beautiful scent of their intermingled bodies. She hadn’t ever been sure she would want to get married because she was a career girl -- which she knew from childhood -- but Amos had, yet again, proven Amelia wrong. Even if they hadn’t gotten married, it was bittersweet knowing she could love someone enough.

Amelia could write a book about she and Amos. She could write a series. ...is the series over? 

For the moment, Amelia was mad at herself for even having the thought that they weren’t done writing their story. She dug her head into his chest and very nearly burst into full blown tears but she didn’t. She refused. Amelia had cried a million tears for Amos. Even though the tears of them being together again weren’t about bad memories, she knew him well enough to know he would take it on himself. She knew he blamed himself. That’s just who he was. Amelia had always known the breakup was hard on him as well -- with what they had, it had to. But what would he think if she spilled how much she missed him and was letting herself even toy with the thoughts of how good they would be together again? 

What if. What if. What if --

“Fuck it.” Amelia quit analyzing immediately, moved her hands to the back of Amos’ neck, her hands in his hair line, looking so far into his eyes she couldn’t have looked farther. She pushed her body as close to his as she could, closed her eyes and pressed her lips as tightly to his as possible. She would never apologize for this, especially to herself.