Amelia Bones

“From there we came outside and saw the stars" -Dante

[dirtandflowers-blog]

A chance meeting || Alice + Open || August 2nd, 1979

[dirtandflowers-blog]

Alice didn’t understand herself sometimes. She was the one who had made the suggestion for a get together, yet the moment she heard the word everyone she almost forgot how to breathe. It pained her that she still reacted this way. Since she had been kept away from people, staving for company, she was so eager to talk to people. She really liked being with people. Most of the time. Some of the time. No, most of the time. It was just hard to make sense of every look and nod and social cues Alice didn’t even know existed. It had taken Lily the better part of a year to make her realise that when she said, “I’m going to the restroom.” she actually wanted Alice to join.

But the fact was that she wanted to spend time with these people who had become something like family to her.Alice plastered on a smile, probably more nervous than excited, but a smile none the less. “It would be fun,” she decided, before taking another bite of her salad. It would be. 

The way Amelia talked about Zane made Alice think about her own future with Frank. If Amelia was this happy by just being an Aunt Alice couldn’t imagine what being a mother would be like. Though the thought terrified her, her own childhood being the main reason, she really believed that she could do a better job than what her own experiences had been like. She had to believe that if she would succeed. “I’m sure Zane is a master painter,” Alice agreed and laughed slightly. “And I wouldn’t miss the early start of his career for the world.”

With a smile, reflected by Amelia’s joke, Alice nodded. “She is very wise.” What Amelia said next though made Alice look at her seriously. “I don’t believe that,” she said. “I’m enjoying myself right now.” She was dimly aware that Amelia was joking, but there was a slight seriousness to her whole character that made Alice think that she wasn’t just joking around. She didn’t want Amelia to think that Alice thought this had been a waste of time.

[ameliaandbones-blog]

“I think so, yeah. A good change of pace compared to the usual days, anyway.” Getting the Order together to do something other than plan and talk would be interesting. Amelia wasn’t certain she could pinpoint the last time everyone had been at a single meeting, actually, what with them all being so busy. One or two were always missing at least. Having everyone together would be both unusual and nice. Hopefully. At least that was what Amelia was trying to convince herself of. 

Alice’s laugh made Amelia smile. She had a soft spot for people she liked laughing. Especially now. “Oh, he is. And his command of the crayon is really very inspiring as well. An artist in many mediums.” Gods, she was the mushiest aunt to ever live. Just thinking about her little whirlwind nieces and nephew made Amelia melt a little. “Probably wise. He’ll be world famous pretty soon.” She tacked on a wink once she stopped talking, a laugh held back into a smile to lend some sort of gravitas to her speculation of Zane’s future fame. 

“Merlin, it’s so true.” Amelia’s smile was all joking until Alice’s expression turned suddenly serious. On some level, the fact that someone was taking her self depreciation seriously threw Amelia into a minor panic. Because no one was supposed to see. She was supposed to deal with all of this on her own, figure it out by herself and not pull anyone else into her issues. But Alice, lovely, dear Alice, was looking at her with the most genuine of expressions and picking up on it. Amelia glazed over the split second as best she could, smiling again, fond rather than joking. 

“I’m enjoying myself too. I was planning on eating something left over on my couch, and probably poking Alby with my feet or something for entertainment.” She shot a glance down at Alby, who was contentedly watching the street and was unmoved by the hypothetical poking. “But this is really nice.” 

[planeteinterdite]

[ameliaandbones-blog]

All I Have To Do Is Dream || Amelia & Evan || September 18th, 1979

[atwistedoutcast-blog]

Anticipation was a living thing in his gut. With the recovery of his memory, and in many ways, his mind, he was eager to establish himself once again. He was not that vulnerable nobody. He was Evan Rosier. He was Old Friend. He was not that indecisive and anxious man. He wasn’t. 

Jaw firming he peered around the corner to watch as the hit witch weight her options, not that she had any. The dementors saw to that. A triumphant smile curving his lips, he watched as her patronus raced toward the converging wraiths leaving her lambs wide open to attack. He was no wolf, but he’d certainly trained with the best. He didn’t bother with fire and hexes. A glance behind revealed a dark shadow that he suspected was a boggart (he was doing his best not to look directly at the thing) which meant he was running out of time. Focusing on the group he aimed an imperius curse at the girl. She stiffened for only a moment, and then she was ducking around the hit witch and racing toward the house despite the way her mother was screaming at her to come back. 

“It seems your lamb has strayed Ms. Bones. Whatever will you do?” He taunted, wrapping a protego spell around himself before he leaned back out to get a better look at the remaining motley crew of muggles and their lone hit witch. 

A scream from within the house drew his attention, but he’d run out of time. He could feel the boggart closing in which meant time was up for the witch too. He knew she’d had time to get her shields back in place which mean the had to break them first. What most people never guessed about him because he was always so stiff was that Evan was fast. He was a natural duelist, and facing off with the hit witch was not something that worried him. 

Abandoning his cover he started bombarding her shield with a volley of spells meant to reduce said shield to nothingness. The muggles around her cowered, instinctively drawing back no matter how firm their protector was, but Evan only need one crack. Reducto! Light flashed, but the shield disintegrated, not that his opponent was slow. Wand flicking through the air like a conductor, he blocked with an almost graceful ease and then he’d thrown another imperius and another lamb was running but this time it was a boy and he ran straight to Evan. 

Scooping up the boy, Evan made sure Amelia could see the wand he pinioned at his tiny neck. “Into the house. I don’t care about your flock. Leave them or take them. Choice is yours Ms. Bones.” He pressed his wand harder to the soft skin of the boy’s throat, infusing it with a burning spell that had the boy screaming. Evan almost dropped him when he felt the telltale drip as his victim pissed himself but he held firm. He was not that anxious man and he would master his fears.

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Amelia was trying to convince herself she didn’t have time to be angry, or worried, or sad. Her emotions, though, were quite happy to keep playing around in the forefront of her mind.

She couldn’t do anything as the next spell whipped past, leaving behind an echo of it’s noise and a faint smell of ozone. She couldn’t do anything as the girl who’d been trying to help the boy still collapsed on the ground behind her was imperioed and ran, face horribly expressionless, into the house. Amelia was frustrated, and helpless, and so, so angry. But the dementors had fled, and so she threw up a protego with everything she had behind it and tried valiantly to ignore the wails of the girls’ mother.

“Digging for compliments, are you? We all know you’ve got the better hand, it’s pretty clear you’re smug about that being up to you.” The Death Eater peeked out of his perch and Amelia was tempted to hex him. Would have, if she were alone. But she had muggles behind her back still, and dropping her shield wouldn’t just be risking her own neck.

Then a scream came from the house and the Death Eater burst into the open a second later. And one blink of the eye and her shield was being bombared with a slew of spells, fast. Under the flashes of exploding light, even as she poured energy into the spell, Amelia knew the shield would fall. And fall it did. Suddenly exposed, Amelia threw a spell his way, “Stupefy!” But it was blocked in the same movement as another jet of light flashed around her, and the boy who’d been hiding behind her ran into the Death Eater’s arms.

Her wand was still raised, ignoring the clamoring of the muggles behind her, focused on the Death Eater and the boy, so expressionless when he ought to be terrified. “Put him down.” There was a wand pressed against the boy’s neck, and when she saw lips move, Amelia dropped her wand arm to her side, jaw clenching as the kid began to scream.

“Stop! He’s just a child, stop it. I’m coming.” She half turned to throw a glance at the terrified muggles behind her, and spoke quietly and quickly. “Go, run. Get out of the town, as far as you can. If you don’t think you can, hide.” No way in hell she was bringing them into close quarters with a Death Eater. She could only hope they would make it out. Or find another Order memeber. Merlin.

She closed the distance between her and the Death Eater and walked into the house as quickly as possible without actually running. Her wand was still at her side. “You’ve got me. Put the boy down.”

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Bloody Hell || James & Amelia || September 1st, 1979

[folly-of-arrogance]

James opened his mouth to inform her that he’d grown into his long legs and big antlers quite nicely thank you very much, when it finally registered in his rather exhausted and pain-addled brain that maybe he was taking this pun just a little too far.  He was an unregistered animagus after all.  And clueing in a member of the MLE to that fact was probably not in his best interests, especially if questions got asked about precisely why he’d chosen to do so.  

Shoving his (considerable) pride down, he grinned and said, “Aye, reckon yer right.  Guess we’ll leave the dancin to the experts in the forest then aye?”

Originally posted by allthisnheaventoo

A guffaw of laughter escaped him at Amelia’s explanation of her dog’s name.  “Dung bomb… aye that’s definitely somethin I’m familiar with when it comes ta dogs.  They’ve a bloody evil size an stench to em.  Unlike the beautiful an majestic stag we mentioned earlier,” he couldn’t help adding.  “Who’ve nice little round poo.  Much more civilized.” 

He focused on the door that they were heading toward and took a deep breath.  This one had to open.  It had to.  He could feel his own strength flagging and he knew that Amelia couldn’t be doing much better.  Reaching out, he tried for the handle even as he said, “See, that’s whut I’ve been tellin my Lil!  Raisin future members fer the Irish we are.  A full team’a Potters flyin my team’s colours?”  He gave a little faux-sniffle, “A sight ta behold it’ll be.”

He winked and finally pushed at the door, and then sagged against it slightly in relief when it opened and allowed them through.  He closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath before he forced himself to keep moving straight toward the nearest medi-wizard.  And as he moved, he kept talking as though he hadn’t almost collapsed with gratitude as he said, “But I do thank ya fer the vote’a confidence my lovely lady Bones.  Always good ta hear.  Especially given I barely feel I’ve grown up m’self yet an so the idea of bein responsible for someone else’s childhood is a bit terrifying.”  He gave her a wink as he kept moving, the medi-wizard already heading their way.

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Amelia let out a quiet snort in response to James’ grin and statement. She felt oddly removed from everything, like all that had happened since she’d been laying, slouched, in that corridor could’ve been some sort of feverish dream. Sure she was here and now, and she knew that, but she also would believe someone if they told her this strange conversation with James Potter had never happened. That they were talking about stags, of all things, made the idea that this could all be in her head more believable.

But James’ laugh was enough reason to focus on now. Making people laugh like they meant it had developed into one of Amelia’s greatest pleasures lately. She was more than a little absently proud of herself for startling a laugh out of the man who was carrying her out of a train full of blood and pain and the lurching horror of children’s bodies. Being sad and angry was okay. But there had to be a little bit of happy too.

“Was coincidence, really. I’d only eaten that chocolate frog a couple hours earlier. Good old Alberic inspired me. But, yeah, it fits.” Amelia tilted her chin to level James a glance, raised eyebrows and all, when he started on about stag poo. It was probably much less intimidating than when she wasn’t covered in tears and blood and didn’t have a bruise blooming across her face. “You go around comparing poos, then? Lovely hobby.”

Neither of them mentioned the door. Both of them were staring at it. Amelia sucked in a breath that caught a couple of times and watched as James reached for the handle. And then the idiot just stood there with his hand on it, going on about his future quidditch team of children in a way that was both endearing and made her want to hit him. He was stalling. She empathized. It would hurt if this door didn’t open too.

But it did. Amelia was pretty sure she visibly relaxed, her hand loosening it’s grip on her wand. “Do a lot for the relationship of the team, anyway. Being siblings.”

James was walking and talking and Amelia was more than prepared to continue to pretend with him that everything was okay. “That’s good, you probably should be terrified. But you’ll do well. And you have Lily, too.”

[dailyactress]

[ameliaandbones-blog]

dailyactress:

Jaimie Alexander – Photoshoot for Emmy Issue #3 2016

[edgarbonesknows]

There’s Nothing in this World I Wouldn’t Do || Edgar & Amelia || September 1st, 1979

[edgarbonesknows]

Edgar was surprised again by the sound of the wand clattering to the floor. Twitching slightly in his seat, he glanced over at his sister to see that she’d had a similar reaction to his own, looking spooked as she slumped back against the pillows. The healer was watching them both with a curious look, but didn’t question them on it when she spoke up.

Amelia was quick to claim she was fine, still sounding on edge as she brushed the healer off with a shrug. Hoping he wouldn’t get kicked out, Edgar stayed quiet, taking the time to bend down and pick up the wand his sister had dropped. He placed it back on her bedside table, making the movement obvious so she would see and know that the wand was there again. It was the most comfort he could offer her at the moment.

However, it also brought the healer’s attention back to him. “Who are you? Amelia needs her rest, you shouldn’t be in here.”

Edgar scratched the back of his head, suddenly wishing that he’d gone with their original plan for him to hide behind a curtain if a healer showed up. “Oh — I’m Edgar — I mean, her brother. It’s not really a problem for me to be here, right? I’m family and I’m not disturbing anyone.”

The healer pursed her lips, looking unconvinced, but appeared to be contemplating the situation. Edgar made sure to put on his most innocent face, hoping it would help his case. “I guess you can stay as long as Amelia says it’s alright, but she really should be resting.”

“No worries, I’ll sing her to sleep if that’s what’s required. I’m just hanging out until our parents show up.”

This at least earned him a small chuckle from the healer, who directed her attention back to Amelia. “I’ll let him stay, but only as long as you give the go ahead and promise me you’ll get your rest when you can.” There was a clipboard in her hand, which she flipped through and read for a moment. “And I’m just going to do a quick examination to make sure you’re healing alright.” She pulled out her wand and started casting spells.

Edgar sat back in his seat and watched, slightly curious about the spells the healer was casting but mostly tired and wishing the healer would leave again so he could continue to talk to his sister before their parents showed up.

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Sometimes, Edgar was sweeter than Amelia thought anyone could possibly deserve. It was easy to tell by the way he moved himself in picking up her wand that her brother was purposefully moving into her periphery so she’d know what he’d done. Her wand returned to the table, and Amelia tore her eyes away from the healer for a moment to send him a small smile. 

The smile inched towards amused when Ed introduced himself in response to the healer’s question. Amelia figured that the healer would let him stay, but was willing to let her look at him with that utterly unconvinced expression for a while longer if it meant Edgar would keep trying to look innocent (would he ever learn that trying to look innocent usually made him look guilty?). It was worth it, even if Amelia wasn’t overwhelmingly excited about the way the healer was going on about what she needed as if she wasn’t there. Though, granted, it was sort of the woman’s job.

“It’s fine.” This was addressed to the healer, eyes slipping from the woman’s face to the clipboard she’d started looking at. Amelia found she couldn’t really look away from it either. It’d become difficult to bring herself to look away from the new occupant of their space in general. Edgar was fine. She knew Edgar. This woman (who was safe, a healer, thinking anything else was stupid) set her on edge. She was silently thankful that Edgar had returned her wand to arm’s reach, and then horrified at the implication of her thought. She couldn’t hex a healer. That made no sense. There was no plausible situation in which she’d need to. And yet...

“You can stay, Edgar. Even though you were never invited in the first place. You’ll have to promise to sing to me later to make up for it.” Amelia was trying very hard to sound like she was unfazed by the healer’s entry like she should be. She hoped it was working.

The healer cast spells for a handful of minutes, intermittently muttering things and consulting her clipboard. After scribbling a couple of things on the bottom of a page, she looked up. “You seem to be doing well, Amelia. Your injuries are healing as expected, and I believe a couple more potions will be in for you soon.” 

Amelia just nodded. Not saying anything seemed like the best way to get the woman to leave faster. 

[edgarbonesknows]

Got to Get Away || Edgar & Amelia || July 15th, 1979

[edgarbonesknows]

“You’re right, I’m doing a great job of leading by example. I hope my kids become ice cream scientists.” Edgar nodded along with Amelia’s idea, struggling to keep a straight face.

Their mother was looking absolutely exasperated by their antics as she stood to leave, offering to invite Amelia to dinner one night. Edgar couldn’t say he was too upset by the invitation. Having Amelia around might defuse some of the tension between his wife and his mother. At the very least it would offer him a way out if things started to get too heated.

But for now, it would seem, he had to return to the circus. Though she had an amused twitch to her otherwise placid expression, he knew his mother wasn’t going to put up with his stalling for too much longer. If he wasn’t careful she would start dragging him by his ear to the door.

Getting to his feet as well, he shot a smile at Amelia. “Good to know, I’ll try to keep my mind open as well, but you know me,” he gave a shrug, “I really can’t resist ice cream. Hey! Maybe I’ll look into some Muggle ice cream parlours. People wouldn’t think to look there…”

“Oh yes they would,” his mother was quick to correct. “Especially now that you’ve stated it for everyone to hear. Really, Edgar, you have to learn to be more discreet if you plan to continue running away from me. Have a good day, Amelia.” She squeezed her daughter’s shoulder and offered her a genuine smile before shooting Edgar a warning glance and marching for the door.

He knew he was expected to follow but he hung back for a second, chuckling under his breath. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was dangerously close to a joke.” He let out a laugh, their mother rarely made jokes and when she did they were always very sardonic. “Anyway, I guess I should head back. Thanks for rescuing me for a short while, I appreciate being able to spend time with someone who doesn’t look as though they’re about to breath fire.” Spending time with Amelia almost always put him in a better mood. She was easy-going and reminded him of the simpler days when the war hadn’t made his life a mad-house.

With a smile and a wave he started towards the door, “I’ll see you around. Probably soon, since I don’t think mum was joking about that dinner. Have a good evening!”

[ameliaandbones-blog]

It took a concentrated effort not to break into an amused grin when looking between their mother’s exasperated expression and Edgar’s I’m-holding-back-an-explosion-of-a-laugh face. But Amelia managed.

Their mother suggested dinner and Amelia had replied in the affirmative before she could think about it. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe she was being stupid, because she’d been around her family for her entire life, and so it made no sense to be wary of spending more time with them for fear of future pain. There wasn’t any way out of this one, and she needed to see her family some times to avoid looking like she was actually avoiding them. Anyway. She was already utterly fucked when it came to them. 

When Edgar brought up muggle ice cream parlors, Amelia was going to reply, perhaps volunteer to scope out some likely locations, when their mother cut in and Amelia’s broad and amused grin broke the surface. “Thanks, Mum. You too.” She half expected Edgar to be dragged out by his lapels, but he got away with a pointed look and an air that stated very plainly that he was expected to follow. 

Her brother’s comment pulled from her a quiet laugh. “It was pretty funny. Maybe we’re slowly rubbing off on her. It’s taken long enough.” As Edgar continued to talk, Amelia’s amused expression turned into a genuine smile. “Of course. I do try to save my fire breathing for people I don’t like, or people I’m annoyed with. Lucky for you, you’re neither of those.” 

It was easy to forget, in the ebb and flow of day after day of work and rest and Order, that spending time with her brother was something she enjoyed as much as she did. As work piled up and hours were lost in sleep, she didn’t really have time to think about going to see Edgar. But in moments like these it was completely clear. She missed him, and he hadn’t even actually left yet. 

“Yes, well, you’ll know if I burst into your house sometime soon. You have a good evening too. Tell everyone hello.” 

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Bloody Hell || James & Amelia || September 1st, 1979

[folly-of-arrogance]

“Why, Stags are absolutely the best dancers known to the Animal Kingdom!  They just do a little,” he gave the tiniest little twist, careful not to make her body shift too much, “an the entire forest must bow down humbly.”  He shook his head, “I tell ya, I bet even a Werewolf would be awed and honoured to see a Stag dance.”

Originally posted by allthisnheaventoo

James smiled at the name of the dog, “Alby huh?  Right proper name that is.  Good strong name.”  His grin turned mischievous as he said, “Right sight better’n Snuffles,” under his breath.  But he said more loudly, “As ta Sirius.”  He shrugged, “Well, he’s a dog person too.”  He was having a hard time not laughing at his own terrible jokes now.  “Might just sweep the boy off his feet ta hear you are.  All that lovely Bonesishness you ‘ave an then a dog person ta boot?”  He shook his head, “You’d never be rid of ‘im.  On ya like a hound.”

He caught sight of another door a little ways up and let out a breath of relief.  From here, it didn’t look too warped to get out of.  Pulling her a little tighter, he murmured softly, “Almost there love.  Just hold onta me…” and stepped forward.

Determined to keep her talking, keep her conscious, he said, “But I have ta agree about kids bein tiring.  S’hard ta keep up with em, not that I’ve a lot of practice mind.  Still, can’t wait til this bloody war’s done so Lil and I can start in on the process.  Can ya imagine?  A gorgeous little tyke with those amazin eyes’a hers?”  He shook his head, “Bloody ‘ell, they’ll be perfect.  All dozen of em.”

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Amelia let out a huff of a laugh as James moved with the slightest impression of dancing. “Sure, sure.” She pegged the fact that she couldn’t connect the reasons behind what he was saying to the spinning of her head and throbbing of her body. “But you’d be just a baby stag, all clumsy with too long legs and all.” Her teasing was gentle, accompanied by an attempt at a wide smile.

“Short for Alberic. I’d just had a chocolate frog and the card was Alberic Grunnion. Inventor of the dungbomb. It seemed fitting.” Amelia tilted her head slightly to watch as James grinned. He looked on the verge of breaking into laughter at jokes that perplexed Amelia more than anything. “Fair enough, I’ll keep quiet about it then. Nothing I can do about my irresistible Bonesishness though.”

James’ quiet words of reassurance were unexpectedly comforting. That he’d pulled her out of a haze of pained confusion, and that he was keeping her talking and distracted while continuing to try to find a way out made Amelia feel a sudden rush of gratitude. She nodded. 

“A dozen? Good, you’ll have plenty of substitutes on the team.” Quidditch was played by teams of seven. Twelve little Potters would be a menace on the pitch. “They’ll be adorable. You and Lily will make wonderful parents.” 

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Lying In Wait || Daisy & Amelia || August 12th, 1979

[perennialgrace]

Though she continued to watch the street, she was paying quite close attention as Amelia answered her, storing all the information up as best she could. She nodded her wholehearted agreement as Amelia pointed out how long Auror training took; that was one of the reasons she wasn’t sure she would pursue it when she left school. Three years seemed like a lifetime to Daisy— especially when she had an entire year of school left before that could even start! Of course it was the hunting down Dark wizards that Daisy found most appealing about the profession, but she supposed as long as she would get to do some of that as a Hit Witch… And who knew, maybe she’d enjoy the rest of it, too…

She looked up at Amelia’s question, colouring faintly. Obviously she hadn’t been being very subtle in her effort to find out more about the profession. “Um… yeah,” she admitted. “Sorry, I just— I’ve been thinking about it a lot, I mean, I only have a year left to decide what I want to do, and the idea of maybe being a Hit Witch really only just occurred to me, and I’m wondering what it’s like.” This all said in a rather flustered rush.

“I kind of… well, I was thinking I wanted to be an Auror,” she continued haltingly. “I mean, it seems an obvious choice right now?  All the training they get… I don’t know, it would just be nice to feel like I’m really fighting in the war, full time, not just in between school and… well, whatever job I end up in. But it’s such a long time for training. Three years, isn’t it? The war will surely to be over by then?” She didn’t mean for that to sound like a question, but it sort of was. “So maybe being a Hit Witch would be a better choice…”

She trailed off uncertainly, feeling incredibly self-conscious all of the sudden. Maybe Amelia would think she wasn’t good enough, maybe she’d tell her it was a terrible idea— yes, these worries were probably stupid considering how kind and encouraging Amelia had been so far, but talking about this with an actual member of Magical Law Enforcement just made it seem so much more real than it had before.

[ameliaandbones-blog]

“Don’t apologize. It’s a good idea to ask around about things you’re interested in, even if it’s only vaguely, before you even think about committing to them. And I didn’t bring along any handy conversation starters anyway, so I should be thanking you for something to talk about, really.” Amelia had shown up in the Hit Witch department with a list of questions only a couple of months after finishing Hogwarts. She’d fired them off all in one breath and had been asked to repeat herself by an owlish old Hit Wizard. Once she had, he shrugged and passed her off to the head of the department. And so the flustered spew of questions had been posed for the third time and that is when she got her answers. And, after a bit more time, a job offer.

Amelia nodded as Daisy said she wanted to be an Auror. Granted, she obviously didn’t have a very holistic point of view on Daisy’s life or personality, Amelia saw her when doing things with the Order and that was essentially all, but she could see it. “It’s three, yes. But if you’re really interested, there are loads of benefits to that. While you’re in training you’d still be able to get more done for the Order than you can now with school. And you’d be learning lots of practical skills that could be used in the war. As for being a Hit Witch, there’s a training period of a couple of weeks to teach people spells and combat tactics as well as how deescalate conflict and all of that. You’d do well in either department. And, well, this is going to be a little bit hypocritical, but don’t let the war choose your future for you. There will be a whole lifetime in front of you when this is over, so do something that you love.” 

She glanced again to the road, half so she could gather her thoughts, and half because it was actually her job at the moment. “I don’t know, but three years is a long time from now. We can hope. Anyway,” She paused, nose wrinkling, “this is going to be morbid, but, there’s a finite amount of wizards and witches in Britain. There aren’t the resources to keep the war going on for too long. Three years is imaginable, beyond that seems like a stretch.” 

[marymactheirishlass-deactivated]

This is Halloween

[marymactheirishlass-deactivated]

Isn’t it though. It is so easy to tell the liars from the truth tellers when they are sweating beneath a polite facade. I’m half tempted to take up this endeavor if I hadn’t suddenly decided what I’d rather be.

Do you know how brilliant that would be, especially if your brother didn’t know you had decided to come as him. A bit of five o’clock shadow and various charms…I’m voting for that costume. 

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Well, it’s not as though you won’t have plenty more opportunities to watch them try to balance their delicate ideals and pretty manners. What’s the epiphany costume, then? Or is it a secret?

Merlin, yeah. It really wouldn’t be too hard, and there’s plenty of potential there for having fun with it. I’ll definitely keep it in mind, no promises though. 

[marymactheirishlass-deactivated]

This is Halloween

[marymactheirishlass-deactivated]

That alone makes the idea more of a pleasing one. There is nothing a reporter enjoys more than to stir up a group of people. It would be entertaining to say the least. 

A zombie hit witch would be terrifying. I love it. You’re right though, when I was young I was a fairy five years in a row because my parents lacked creativity. Not that I complained. Go with something you enjoy, makes it less of a hassle to dress up. 

[ameliaandbones-blog]

It’d be fantastic. I’d have to follow you around the whole night to watch all the polite disapproval. Watching people struggle to look poised when they’re uncomfortable and pissed off is far too fun. 

It would be, wouldn’t it? I’ll have to consider it, the effort would be minimal and I figure it’d be at least somewhat fun. And fairies are wonderful, of course you didn’t complain. Hm, good point, still have no idea. Maybe I should just go as Edgar. Sneak into his house, steal some of his clothes. It’d be very easy, and I could visit the kids too. Multitasking. 

[marymactheirishlass-deactivated]

This is Halloween

So would it be in bad taste to go to this Ministry shindig as a zombie journalist? With how bloody late they are keeping us these days I all but have to roll out of bed and waltz into the Ministry and that would be my costume. 

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Personally, I see it more as an amusing piece of social commentary, but it might cause a few raised eyebrows. If you did maybe I’d get away with going as a zombie hit witch. That’d be nice, figuring out halloween costumes is far too time consuming. 

[ameliaandbones-blog]

All I Have To Do Is Dream || Amelia & Evan || September 18th, 1979

[atwistedoutcast-blog]

“And you won’t fucking get to.”

He almost laughed aloud. So confident. As if he’d waste his time. He was a little pickier than that when it came to his play things. No he was far more interested in the ones that knew how to fight him. There was more power in the success of subduing them. 

The desperate spell bounced away easily deflected, but Evan was drawn by her offer. Was it smart? No. Nothing about tonight had been smart. Inviting fucking dementors and boggarts to a death eater party was like intentionally mixing poison into half of ones food items. Odds were eventually you’d eat the poison whether you wanted to or not. 

“Why on earth would I do that when I can pick them off until there’s only you anyway?” He asked, the smirk clear in his voice. He leaned around to consider which muggle to attack next, but he needn’t have bothered. A Dementor had floated up and was feeding on the man with the broken body, and a second was approaching up the only path left for the muggles to run, unless of course they took shelter in the big house behind the fence.

“Tick-tock… time is running out Miss Bones. Will you let the Dementor’s have them, or shall I have at them?” He asked, aiming a hex at the girl he could see peering about desperately. She yelped and yanked back behind Amelia. Evan licked his lips eagerly because he knew she was about to have to make a choice. 

She could either urge the muggles to run, or she could try to through up a patronus. If she conjured, her shield would go down with one spell, and he could do whatever he wished. If they ran, he’d have to pursue, but he’d have a clear shot on her little lambs. “Tough decisions. It’s what being a hit witch is all about. I can see the interview already Miss Bones.” He mocked again, intentionally trying to rile her temper even more.

[ameliaandbones-blog]

The Death Eater was far too smug, clearly utterly aware of and pleased with his palpable advantage over her. Amelia was angry and desperate and scared. All in all, it wasn’t the best of situations. “Why should you even bother? That’d just be delaying the fun part.” Bargaining with the enemy was fine when she was using her own wellbeing as a chip, but she highly doubted it would work anyway. Why would it? It wasn’t much effort to quickly kill off a handful of muggles, she knew, and the Death Eater had to know it would hurt her. And that seemed to be a cause he held dear, so why not?

Fuck, shit, fuck. Okay. Thinking. Fire on their right, no man’s land on the left. House behind fence, time to get to it narrowing fast- potential shelter but also would make them sitting ducks- too easy to set ablaze. Dementor at their backs, another already at one of the muggles. She could feel them, stronger than they had been for the entire time she’d been in the village. A leaking, terrible crushing desperation. The fringes of bad memories and fears slipping into her mind like they refused to be ignored or forgotten. There wasn’t a good option. She’d deal with the most immediate danger first, keep them alive for as long as she could and die trying if she had to. 

Spell on her lips, Amelia’s wand was poised to seal their fates when the Death Eater spoke again. “Fuck you.” And she pivoted, turning so she was sideways, still able to see the Death Eater out of the corner of her eye as she pointed her wand at the dementors and set her jaw, grasping for a memory and latching onto it. “Expecto Patronum!” What came out of her wand in the first second was a mass of silvery mist and Amelia’s stomach clenched in sudden anxiety. It’d been a while since she’d cast her patronus. What if she couldn’t anymore? What if she’d made this decision and it’d amounted to nothing? But then the mass condensed and slid into shape, and a silver crow was flying beak first at the dementors, sending them gliding off with a couple wheeling swoops. 

But her shield had fallen the moment she’d cast the Patronus, and so once she was sure her crow was on it’s way to herd away the dementors lingering around them, Amelia turned back to face the Death Eater. 

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Bloody Hell || James & Amelia || September 1st, 1979

[folly-of-arrogance]

James lifted his head and pretended to look affronted, “Me?!  Step on her?!  I’ll ‘ave you know that I am the most graceful of dancers.  Like a majestic stag I am.”  He grinned at his own terrible joke (not that anyone but the Marauders and Lily would get it) and said, “Besides, she was sneaky about her stompin.  Determined to make certain to hit every possible nerve endin she could.”  He shook his head, “S’a wonder I can still walk.”

Trying another door when they came upon it, he couldn’t quite hold back a snarled oath that slipped out under his breath.  They were fucking trapped inside this tomb of a train and he wasn’t sure how much longer Amelia was going to be able to last damnit!

Focusing his attention as determinedly as he could, he kept moving toward the next car, hoping for a way out, and said in the same light tone as before, “Hmm, so yer a dog person huh?  I can see that about you… but do yerself a favour and don’t let Sirius know.”  

He didn’t elaborate, just went on in the same calm tone, “Still though, not sure about leavin all the family thing to Ed.  Fair sure you’d be a damned good mother Lady Bones.  You’ve got that caring streak about you.  I bet you adore your nieces and nephews.”  He tilted his head to the side and said, “Though, honestly, not sure how it’s possible not ta adore that little scamp Zane an I had a lovely conversation with Tim in Russian the other day.  Bloody adorable that one.”

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Amelia’s lips quirked into some vague idea of a smile, dropping her forehead to James’ shoulder to breathe for a couple of seconds before replying, faintly muffled, “I figure a stag would be a pretty shit dancer, honestly.” She picked up her head again- ow- and continued. “Yeah, I can see Marlene doing that. She had to do something to entertain herself while going through dancing with you, clearly. Poor James.” 

She watched as James tried to open another door and just blinked at it when it didn’t open. Her mood was desolate enough that it seemed fitting that they were trapped. What did it matter if she bled out on this stupid train? That James would have to be there would be unfortunate, but she couldn’t bring herself to be regretful about much more than that. 

But James kept moving and she mused, idly, that he probably wouldn’t let her die. After all, she’d be the same way, were roles reversed. “Mm, yeah, I’ve got a dog. Alby. He’s very sweet.” She tilted her head slightly so she could look at James questioningly. “Why shouldn’t I tell Sirius?” 

“Thanks. Not sure everyone would agree with you though. I love Ed’s kids, but I don’t know if I could do what he does every day.” Her nieces and nephew were her favorite people, but children were tiring and she didn’t have the slightest idea of what you were supposed to do with them. She’d figure it out, sure, but she wasn’t overly interesting in having to. “Yeah. They’re fantastic.” She didn’t question James’ ability to speak Russian because it just seemed like something he’d be able to do. 

[edgarbonesknows]

There’s Nothing in this World I Wouldn’t Do || Edgar & Amelia || September 1st, 1979

[edgarbonesknows]

“That’s alright, I’m sure my arse can survive a little numbness,” he said with a chuckle. Edgar wasn’t really sure why he was refusing the pillow. It wasn’t as though it would be very difficult to conjure, but he supposed he didn’t want to complain or be fussed over when Amelia was in a great deal more pain than he was. It wasn’t that important for him to have a pillow to sit on anyway.

As Amelia tried to remember the barn they’d visited Edgar shook his head. He remembered the chicks. That had been a trip after he’d been kicked in the face by a cow and he had been glued to his mother’s leg, terrified of the grass-chewing beasts that hardly offered him a bored glance as he passed. They had visited the chicks because they were small and fluffy, and less likely to kick anyone in the face. It had been rather fun to run around trying to collect them up after Amelia had set them free. “You were probably too young to remember the first trip - Though, actually, I think a horse tried to eat Lance’s hair that time, too.” His brother’s straw-coloured hair had stood out amongst their dark brunette when they were younger, but his hair had darkened as he had gotten older and was now about the same shade of brown as their mother’s.

“It’s too bad about her hat. I sincerely hope that the horse decided to wear it end. Maybe it took one bite and decided it was too pretty to eat? Wouldn’t that be nice.” Edgar enjoyed the image of a horse wearing a hat, he didn’t want it ruined by thinking of the more likely possibility of the hat being eaten. “And you never know, it still could have been a centaur. I don’t suppose you ever ruled out that possibility.”

Tired and caught up in their conversation in an attempt to push away the pain and worry of the night, Edgar didn’t notice when a healer pushed through the curtains. The healer cleared her throat to get their attention, surprising Edgar so badly he nearly jumped right out of his seat, his heart pounding in his chest as he gave a startled yelp.

The healer blinked at this reaction, clearly she hadn’t been expecting to scare him with her interruption. “Uh — hi…” he mumbled, shifting back in his seat in an attempt to relax.

“I just came to check on Amelia,” the healer said, turning to Amelia. “It’s good to see you awake, how are you feeling?”

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Amelia settled on just nodding in response to Edgar’s assurances. Moving on from that topic of conversation would mean moving on from the bloodied clothes that had interrupted her attempts at pretending everything was fine. 

She hadn’t thought about the chicks in years. That had been a fun day, punctuated by rather a lot of shrill and startled giggling while trying to herd chicks back into their home. Having a good excuse to run around getting her clothes filthy always equated to a good day in Amelia’s book. “Poor, poor Lance. He was cursed, apparently. And, yeah, the chicks are the first farm trip I remember, I think. Was the first one fun? I mean, aside from Lance being eaten by a horse.” 

“Hm, yeah.” Amelia nodded. The hat issue hadn’t really ever been a priority and it’d been a while since she’d thought about it. And she was certain the fact that her head was still a mess and that she was constantly distracted by a chorus of aches wasn’t helping. She’d forgotten the possible centaur involvement. “You know, if it were a centaur in the end it wouldn’t even be my Magical Law Enforcement’s job. The woman should’ve flooed the Magical Creatures Department.” 

Amelia’s eyes were locked on her brother. Looking anywhere else meant facing the stark reality that she was trapped in a hospital bed, but staring at Edgar allowed her some semblance of the fantasy that everything was alright. And so she didn’t notice the healer’s arrival, and processed the clearing of a throat a second after her brother, eyes flying wide as Edgar yelped. Within a second she was groping desperately in the direction of the bedside table as she turned to look, and touched fingers to her wand just as she realized who she was looking at. Fuck. Fuck. She promptly knocked her wand to the floor as she slumped against the pillow again, retracting her arm with a wince and glancing forlornly down at her fallen wand. Eyes returning to the healer, Amelia tried to slow her suddenly panicked heartbeats and conjured an apologetic expression while all she wanted to do was hide. “Hi.” 

The healer, meanwhile, was blinking at Amelia and Edgar as if they were marginally insane. Which was something Amelia felt like was completely logical of her. The question from the healer was met with a poor attempt at a shrug from Amelia, “I’m fine. Awake, like you said, so that’s good.” Her heart was still pounding and she hated it. Hated that she had let herself be so stupidly, suddenly terrified. Hated that she could hear the edge of it in her voice.

[insanehvrricane-deactivated2016]

unstable | bellatrix & open

[insanehvrricane-deactivated2016]

The bartender turned away, hasty to leave the shifty gaze of the witch in front of him, and set about finding a glass. He was purposely sluggish as he moved, inspecting each bottle to make his rude customer wait, and she was too exhausted to argue. Patience was a virtue she had never learned, but her wand was tucked under her belt and she had little desire to fish it out. The bartender would be quicker, everyone was constantly on edge, and she just didn’t feel like dueling. 

She wasn’t in the correct mindset.

Public appearances required a certain level of maturity. People knew her name, knew her appearance, and would talk if she suddenly began hurting ‘innocent’ lives. With the war ongoing and insane, Bellatrix couldn’t risk exposure. Her reputation just needed to be a rumor. Anything more would mean certain public death and how annoying that would be, extra smiles and extra care around her words. Patience, again. It all came down to patience. How unfortunate that she lacked it. 

Her musings were cut short, the woman beside her had reached for the peanuts she had been unable to fully describe, and was now speaking. A short sentence that Bellatrix struggled to understand, her mouth pulling into a thin line as she focused. “Are you the bartender?” She finally asked, voice dripping with sarcasm and annoyance. Though, in hindsight, she regretted the words. A conversation would not be an unwelcome distraction until she was intoxicated, at least. 

The bartender was still searching for glasses.

“Scotch!” Bellatrix shouted, a fist slamming heavily onto the counter top. The bartender jumped and moved quicker, sliding the amber liquid her way in just a few short seconds. “See how easy it was to just do your job?” She turned her attention away from the man, looking the woman up and down.

“You look familiar, peanut girl. Name.”

[ameliaandbones-blog]

The question was brought up almost immediately of why Bellatrix Lestrange was in a somewhat hole in the wall pub looking royally annoyed and yelling at bartenders. But Amelia shrugged it off for the most part. Everyone was entitled to the ability to go to a bar and get a drink, no matter how much their family was paraded around as a sentinel of elegance and poise, and annoyance at the world in general was certainly understandable. But it was interesting, the whole situation was, and Amelia didn’t have anything planned that evening anyway. 

Amelia had a quick temper. But Amelia’s temper was usually set off in defense of other people or values she held dear. A cutting remark aimed at her only brought up a flash of a smile. She was self depreciating enough as it was, anything anyone else said didn’t mean all too much to her. Everytime someone insulted her she’d thought worse, no doubt. It wasn’t hard to, considering how many tiny slip ups had cost so many lives on her watch. It wasn’t healthy, she knew, but she also couldn’t begin to stop it. And so Bellatrix’s sarcasm and annoyance was nothing, and Amelia’s lips tugged up into a fleeting smile as she replied. “No, though I figure it’d be an interesting job. If I wasn’t already busy with other things maybe I’d be one. Call that practice.” 

She took a sip of her drink and watched as the bartender jumped at Bellatrix’s yell, not doing so herself because she’d half expected it. Once the scotch had been safely delivered to the woman beside her, Amelia shot the bartender a sympathetic smile before returning her attention to Bellatrix. 

“Peanut girl’s a new one.” She tapped a finger lightly against the side of her bottle, appraising Bellatrix herself as she was given a quick up- down. “Amelia Bones. And I already know who you are so you don’t really have to bother introducing yourself.” 

[edgarbonesknows]

Got to Get Away || Edgar & Amelia || July 15th, 1979

[edgarbonesknows]

“We’re very mature and scientists,” Edgar insisted, waving his spoon in a disapproving gesture. “Discerning what flavour of ice cream this looks like is of the utmost importance. Clearly.” But he couldn’t keep the grin from his face even as he said it. His mother was looking both terrible unamused and very amused at the same time, probably trying to determine if her children were idiots or just having fun.

Edgar pouted when Amelia labelled him as a bad influence. “You’re definitely a worse influence,” he said defensively. “I’m a father, I have to be a good role model for my kids, so if I’m acting immature I think it’s a fair bet to say it’s your fault.” He gave a nod. “But yes, it’s a very important and mature experiment we’re conducting.”

Vivianna shook her head at the both of them, turning her gaze to the ice cream to check how much was left. There really wasn’t very much, a spoonful at most. “You’re correct, Edgar, you should be a good role model to your children. Unfortunately, I’m not sure you’ve quite succeeded considering you’re conducting juvenile experiments on ice cream.” She leant back in her seat, staring at him with a steady eye. “Anyway, I couldn’t describe my exact feelings for the particular colours that have gone into that ice cream. It’s disturbing, to say the least.”

Edgar laughed as he scooped up the last of the ice cream and stuck the foam cup inside of the cup he had used for his other ice cream. “Fair enough. At the moment it’s tasting about as good as it looks.” He winced as he swallowed down the last of it, no longer enjoying the unique flavour.

Their mother showed them absolutely no sympathy, getting to her feet as he finished. “Well, if you’re finally done with this nonsense it would probably best to be getting back to your family. Amelia, it was very nice to see you again. You should join us for dinner sometime.”

[ameliaandbones-blog]

Amelia nodded as Edgar waved his spoon around. “Clearly, yeah. Afterwards we can publish our research and the world will thank us.” She glanced sideways at their mother and her smile widened as she caught the look of battling amusement and annoyance.

“Fair point.” She paused to think about it, eyebrows raising slightly as she did, pulling back the immediate grin that came in response to Edgar’s pouting. “Though, I’d take some research into that to come up with a conclusive decision as well. Your influence definitely lowers my maturity a little bit.”

Their mother’s input on the subject pulled a laugh from Amelia, who shook her head slightly. “But this way the kids might grow up to become full time ice cream scientists, which is a very well respected and tasty career. Edgar’s just providing them with more options by example.” Her eyes turned to her brother as she finished speaking, watching as he scooped up the last of the ice cream and ate it with a wince. Expression kept carefully serious, Amelia adopted a completely ingenuine genuine tone, “Your perseverance is inspiring.”

Then Mum was on her feet and Amelia reached across the table to grab Edgar’s bowls and stack them, dropping the spoons on the top. “It was lovely to see you too. Dinner would be nice, just send me an owl?” Looking back to Edgar, Amelia’s grin returned. “This was fun. Though maybe next time we should go somewhere harder to guess- I’ll be brainstorming in advance.”