an empty nest still leaves a space

[archivist-bones]

alicelcngbottcm‌:

“   Only  when  there’s   valuable  information  at  stake.   ”    Alice  responds,  meticulously  looking  over  the  folders  she  had  at  hand  in  case  some  were  missing.  They  were  all  still  there.  A   sigh  of  relief  wouldn’t  be  enough  to  express  how  glad  she  was  nothing   went  wrong.   “   Moody’s  entrusted  me  with  these  I  don’t  expect  you  of  all  people  to  take  such  responsibility  lightly  if  you  were  in  my  place,  Bones.   ”    She  often  saw  Amelia  Bones,  whether  it  was  in  the  Ministry  or  during  Order  meetings,  but the two wouldn’t  usually  talk  on  purpose.  For  as  long  as  she  knew  the  girl  they  always  seemed  to  find  a  reason  to  bicker.  It  was  quite  simple  for  Alice,  Amelia  was  just  far  too different than  her.  Even  in  Hogwarts  when  it  came  to  studying  or  preferences  of  subjects  the  two were  always  on  the  contrary  and  somehow  it  managed  to stay  that  way  even  now  years  later. 

At  first  Alice  might’ve  been  bothered  by  that.  As  a  teenager  she  didn’t  seem  to  care  much  about  anyone  outside  her circle  of  friends  and  house  members,  but  as  soon  as  she  joined  the  Order  being  liked  had  a  new  importance  to  her.  These  weren’t  just  your  everyday  people.  They  were  a  part  of  something  bigger  that  would  make  a  difference. They  were  supposed  to  be  a  team  and  meaningless  quarrels  had  no  place  there.  Her  attempts  didn’t  seem  to  phase  Amelia  among  others  and  with  time  she  forgot  about  her  quest  as  time  was  pressing  all  of  them.  She’d  drowned  herself  in  work  and  taking care  of  Frank  and  somehow  she’d  distanced  herself  once  again  from  the  rest.

“   We  both  have  priorities  that  involve  no  interference,  do  we  not?  Unless  wandering  around  is  a  part  of  your  duties.   ”   With  all  folders  clutched  tightly  to  her  chest  as  if  her  life  depended  on  it  Alice  just  wanted  to  get  back  to  her  work.  The  more  she  did  the  more  useful  she  felt  she  was.  She  would  try  to  win  over  Amelia  Bones  another  day  or  maybe  another  year  given  how  hard  the  task  had  been.   “   You   know    what?   ”   She reached  in  her  shoulder  bag  pulling  out  a  small  bag  of  fresh  cookies  she’d  made  the  other  night.   “   Things  around  here  are  bad  enough  so  you  might  as  well  have  a  treat  to  lighten  things  up. Take as many as you’d like and call it a truce  for  running  into  you.   ” 

Alice’s tone was accusatory. Even though she was correct, it didn’t grate Amelia’s nerves any less. She couldn’t help but feel irritable over Alice’s dour attitude, Amelia hadn’t intended to run into the woman on purpose. In fact, if she had seen Alice coming her way, Amelia would have turned in the other direction. It wasn’t worth the stress of dealing with her if she were going to behave like they had at Hogwarts. If Alice was up, Amelia was down, it had always been that way. 

“I wasn’t trying to interfere in your priorities.” Amelia replied as she tried not to bitterly roll her eyes. “I wasn’t wandering either. If you weren’t so wrapped up in your own little world then I think you might have noticed that...You certainly wouldn’t be mowing people down.”

The sudden olive branch offered in the guise of cookies was jarring but Amelia supposed she should play nice. They were adults now and it wouldn’t do if they were bickering all the time, she especially didn’t want it to come back to their superiors. Amelia didn’t want Kingsley ( and begrudgingly Moody ) to think she was unable to work with others. They wouldn’t be able to trust her with anything anymore. There was a split-second where Amelia was tempted to refuse the cookies, out of sheer stubbornness, but she decided against it. Taking the bag from Alice, she nodded in thanks, “I’m hoping they’re not poisoned.” It was said in jest but there was still a bitter edge to the comment. 

[archivist-bones]

WHO: Amelia & @emmvxnce​ WHEN: February 4th, 1980 WHERE: An alleyway outside of the Daily Prophet

It had been some time since Emmeline and Amelia had been occupying the same space. Both women had been quite close with one another during their school years, so close that Amelia had even called Emmeline a best friend at one point. A difference in career choices had pulled them away from one another but, even then, they had somehow been able to hold onto whatever spark of magic they had left in their relationship. It wasn’t until they both became aware of the other’s status in the Order that the bickering seemed to begin. Their disagreements and little spats wouldn’t have been noticeable to an outsider but there was definitely more tension in their relationship and it seemed to be getting worse as time marched on.

Today, it seemed, that murky, irritating tension might reach some sort of breaking point. The two women had been saddled with the assignment to somehow recruit Rita Skeeter. Amelia was very doubtful that the woman would hear them out and knew that she needed to be approached delicately. Despite being a horrible gossip, her writings were very much in favor of their cause. Perhaps, the woman had a heart after all, but that was neither here nor there if they couldn’t get in the same room with the journalist.

“Emmeline...We can’t just lurk out here forever.” Amelia hissed, her voice a harsh and irritable whisper. They had been there for almost two hours. Lurking in an alleyway seemed like a half-baked idea anyway. If Skeeter didn’t think they were Death Eaters, she would probably think these two woman lurking outside of her workplace were crazed fans come to carry her away. “I told you we should have just made an appointment with her...Somewhere private...She’s going to think we’re a couple of nutters.”

[archivist-bones]

lngbotm‌:

these  days,  the  auror  spends  more  time  at  the  prewett’s  than  he  does  at  his  own  home  .  even  before  the  battle  of  hogsmeade,  frank  felt  the  need  to  assist  the  prewett’s  as  much  as  he  could  .  they’re  all  at  their  breaking  points,  war  isn’t  a  kind  sport,  but  he  felt,  and  still  feels  that  the  two  of  them  have  taken  on  unequaled  duties,  and  that  he  should  do  his  part  to  relieve  some  of  them  if  he  can  .  while  he  would  like  to  do  more,  his  desire  to  aid  is  currently  fixed  on  the  protection  and  maintenance  of  the  prewett  safe  house,  as  well  as  all  of  the  people  inside  of  it  .  

looking  for  a  pick  -  me  -  up  before  his  self  -  enforced  shift,  frank  heads  to  the  kitchen  for  a  bite  and  a  cup  of  coffee  .  amelia  bones’  the  last  person  he  expects  to  see  already  brewing  a  pot,  but  he  can’t  contain  his  sentimental  cheer  when  he  does  .          “          you’re  speaking  my  language,  bedilia  .     ”          he  grins,  using  his  old  pet  -  name  for  her  and  trying  to  pinpoint  the  last  time  they  were  in  the  same  room  .  he  doesn’t  notice  her  apathy,  too  distracted  by  the  reunion  and  the  smell  of  java  to  pay  any  mind  .  he’s  just  glad  to  see  her  .  honestly,  he’s  glad  to  see  any  of  his  old  friends  still  alive  .  

          “     you  don’t  come  here  often,  do  you  ?     ”          frank  wonders  aloud,  seating  himself  at  the  kitchen  table  and  leaning  forward  with  interest  .          “     i  just  haven’t  seen  you  around  .  have  you  been  here  all  day  ?          —          how  are  you,  bedilia  ?           ”          he  doesn’t  even  consider  that  she  might  not  want  to  talk  with  him,  he  just  grins  childishly  and  ignores  every  social  cue  urging  him  to  do  otherwise  .  

There was a sharp pang in the pit of Amelia’s stomach at the use of the ancient nickname. She couldn’t remember the last time she had heard it. “Bedilia?” she asked, fiddling with the coffee filters on the counter in front of her. “It’s been a long time since I heard that...I would have thought you’d forgotten that nickname.” The same old Frank then. The stupid ( charming ) grin on his face was enough evidence of that. Amelia tried to shake the memories it conjured up in the back of her mind.

Plus, it wasn’t as if the two never saw each other. There were meetings, Amelia saw Frank often at work but never had an opportunity ( nor wanted one ) to speak privately with him. It was much easier to avoid the interaction all together. He was married now and whatever their relationship had been was now long abandoned at Hogwarts. “Not really..I’m usually at the Potter’s.” Amelia responded, shrugging it off as if she didn’t just add Frank to the list of reasons she preferred working at the Potter’s estate instead of the Prewett’s.

“I’m fine.” Amelia answered, though it was a little too quickly and a bit wooden. She hadn’t been fine since Gideon’s death and didn’t believe she would ever be fine in reality. “I’ve been here helping with a few odds and ends since this morning..” The was a moment of silence as the coffee maker clicked on, the sound of water whirling in the machine. Amelia cleared her throat, “How have you been?”

[dariusfallon-deactivated2020020]

The Answers We Seek | A&A

[archivist-bones]

aurxrmoody‌:

The minute she walked in, his heart shattered. Again. They had taken so many hits, so many losses that day and it all just compounded against all the losses leading up to that day. Alastor was breaking apart from the inside out, even though no one could see it- and Amelia was a stark representation of all he’d failed to do, all he had failed to save. Her petite frame settled into the chair opposite him and suddenly, he hated the divide. Hated the way the large table was placed between them, hated the pain that reflected in her eyes, hated himself and the war they were rooted in.

Her greeting was formal, like she was treading on eggshells and all he could do was brace himself for the conversation to come. She wanted answers he wasn’t yet able to provide and it was a moment he’d been dreading. “Always.” This office, and really anything that belonged to the older Auror were safe- he’d made sure of it, personally. Safety protocols were no joke, so she didn’t have to worry about any kind of prying ears. 

Looking at her now, Alastor just wanted to ask if she was okay, if there was anything he could do for her, hell- he wanted to go back and do that whole day over again and save them all. He wanted to pre-empt what she was about to say with an explanation of his own, but something told him to let her speak, to let her lead the conversation. There was a lot to be said about feeling in control of a situation when everything else felt so wildly out of control…

Amelia’s relationship with Moody had never been something she would consider good. Amelia respected Moody for his years of service to the wizarding world, certain that he had seen many dark and horrible things while working as an auror. It was all very commendable but Amelia couldn’t shake the feeling Moody underestimated her in a way. Maybe it was the lingering shadow of being the youngest Bones sibling, seeing fit to haunt Amelia for the rest of her life. 

Moody’s silence seemed to be the green light to continue on with the conversation. No preemptive greetings, no prodding into her emotional or mental state. She was more than thankful for it. It had been an exhausting week, assuring her coworkers and bosses that she was alright or as alright as she could possibly be. Amelia was entirely sick of hearing that Gideon’s loss was terrible and much too soon. She cleared her throat, her gaze settling on the man sitting rigidly across from her who seemed to be observing her just as seriously as she was him.

“There’s two things that I’d really like to discuss with you.” Amelia said, her tone as formal and calm as ever, “I suppose the first should be a little bit of information I picked up on my day off.” Starting off with her suspicions surrounding the Lestrange family seemed the better option. “I had the occasion to run into Bellatrix Lestrange a few days ago.” Amelia started, “She said something that stuck with me and since her husband has been missing from England, it arose some suspicion...She said he was in Albania.”

[archivist-bones]

WHO:  Amelia & @lngbotm WHEN:  January 25th WHERE:  Prewett’s Home

A request to help scour through some research collected by other Order members had come by owl earlier in the day. Something Amelia was used to, being the only archivist in the organization and one of the only people patient enough to attempt it. It had become second nature, digging through files, connecting dots. Tiresome for some but Amelia had always enjoyed studying as a student, it was similar. A cup of coffee, a few quality pens, sun shining through the windows into the Prewett’s dining room. Time seemed to slip by as she made notes, making sure to pinpoint anything important in short, concise verbiage.

It was peculiar to see her at the Prewett’s home, a modest three bedroom in Tutshill. It was a nice, comfortable outpost but Amelia could only recall a few meetings there on rare occasions. There weren’t many security measures taken there either, which made her slightly uncomfortable after spending most of her time at the Potter’s estate. A much older home, protected by years of magic and much more secluded. Amelia always had to shake it off and put her best foot forward, focusing on work instead of who might be lurking just outside of the door.

It was when Amelia reached for her cup of coffee that she realized it was empty. Her gaze fell to the clock hung on the opposite wall, it might be time to take a break. Amelia stretched her back against the chair she had been occupying before getting to her feet and heading to the kitchen for more coffee. She flittered around, gathering the necessary tools to make a fresh pot when she heard the footsteps of someone entering the kitchen. “Gideon do you —” she started as she turned around, eyes falling on Frank instead. Amelia cleared her throat, trying to appear unphased by his presence. “Frank.” she said in acknowledgement, “Long time no see...Coffee?”

[princesconsuela]

[archivist-bones]

seirioscanis‌:

Sirius acted offended, pressing a hand to his chest and letting his jaw drop slightly. It was an obvious overexaggeration, yes, but he’d be damned if they didn’t need a little lightness, even if it was a wake. Things were getting too serious (no pun intended) for his liking, and he could mope just fine at his own flat; why try to do so in a group of people as well? “Didn’t I? Bones, I’ve been assured on several occasions that I am a gift. If you can’t see that, then that’s on you. Clearly.” And she only confirmed that last part when she admitted she didn’t try to be understanding–he hid his triumphant smirk behind another sip of shitty wine.

He stared in surprised awe as Amelia took the wine and downed it, distaste for the liquid obvious on her face as she chugged along. It was impressive, honestly, and Sirius nodded to her when she was done to show his respect. “Damn Bones. Should’ve come to a couple of parties during school. If you can down that, you’d’ve done great with the shit we conjured up.”

He snorted when she brought up Peter, raising an eyebrow at her and shrugging. It was like him to do that, really, so he wasn’t surprised at all. “Pete’s always been a bit sneaky,” he said. “Probably wouldn’t think it, but he’s the stealthiest of the lot of us.” Of course, he didn’t mention that half of that was because of the rat form Peter could take for reconnaissance missions, but even before that his friend always had a knack for going unnoticed. It was helpful during their pranks, to say in the least. “Can’t say I know how he figured it out, but he’s got more going on than you’d think. All of us do.” Sirius grinned wolfishly. “For example, I’m obviously the sensitive type underneath my punk exterior, and you are the party animal under the whole stickler-for-rules charade.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Amelia answered, letting a small snort escape her at Sirius’s dramatics. If things were different, maybe he should have considered a career in theater. He certainly had the confidence for it. “You are a bit younger than me.” Amelia remarked, “I might not have been to your parties but there were others.” A little white lie, maybe? Amelia had spent most of her time sequestered in the library or on prefect duty by the time Sirius had started attending Hogwarts. There hadn’t been much time for partying but she didn’t necessarily like being painted into a corner even when it was all in good humor.

Amelia shrugged, “He’s got good taste in biscuits actually.” As sneaky as Peter might be, he was clearly the brains of the group in a lot of ways. At least when it came to making friends of your childhood enemies. It was true though, Amelia knew it. As a teenager things were much more black and white. Now she was being to see where she might have been mistaken. James and Sirius weren’t so bad and she should try to be more understanding. “Oh yeah, I’m definitely a party animal.” she said, shaking her head, “Lots of parties down in the ministry archives.”

Amelia glanced at Sirius again for a moment, empty cup still in hand, before looking back at the crowd surrounding them. It was out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Edgar, seemingly making his way across the room towards her. “I see Edgar..” Amelia paused for a moment before continuing, “It’s been nice...Try to behave for the rest of the night, yeah?” She offered Sirius a weak smile before turning on her heel and heading towards her brother.

[ ｆ ｉ ｎ ]

[archivist-bones]

james-pottr‌:

Shaking his head at Amelia’s apology, James tries his best to brush off her words. He would never hold such a thing against her, having grown quite sick of hearing people’s apologies for what he had lost, although he knew it came with the best of intentions. There was very little that could be done about his parents’ deaths; both were exceptionally elderly and simply could not recover from an illness like they once had. It was nothing like what had happened to Amelia’s family. It was only at night when he was attempting to sleep that James truly contemplated how alone he really was with no blood-related family remaining, and he was oddly thankful that Amelia, at least, still had her parents and Edgar to support her.

“I get it,” James says, his voice low, but no less warm, “The sentiment is there, and I know it’s how people show they care and that they’re thinking of you, but it’s a weird thing to say. But while we’re at it, I’m sorry for your loss as well. Gideon was a fantastic bloke and he deserved more.” James’ words are as sincere as he can make them, eyeing Amelia firmly as he speaks. He didn’t know her brother as well as he might have, but the loss was still felt. “Thanks for thinking of me, though. They were pretty phenomenal parents if I do say so myself.” And he would undoubtedly miss them for the rest of his own life.

Leaning his head heavily against the wall behind them as he sinks into a seat, James can’t help the small grin that toys at his mouth, despite the somewhat inappropriate setting. He couldn’t help the small thrum of pride that spreads through him at garnering even the smallest of smiles from Amelia and he nods his head at the way she stifles her snort. His sense of humour was not something that everyone appreciated, but he was glad he could brighten her mood even a little. “Could you imagine the Ministry rumour mill if you just decked someone in the middle of a funeral?” he says in amusement, before clamouring back to his feet. James rests one hand gently on Amelia’s shoulder for a long moment, squeezing softly as he gives her one last sad smile, “You call on me for that raincheck whenever you need it, alright Bones? Whatever time of day.”

“Thanks.” Amelia’s voice was small, quiet. Unsure of how to deal with the kindness directed at her. The condolences felt different coming from James, as if she could somehow feel that he understood the real toll that loss took on someone. It felt more sincere than anything she had heard all day. “He was a fantastic person.” The best brother too, Amelia just wished she had an opportunity to let him know that. Perhaps they were both lucky to at least have their family in their lives, even if it was only for a short period of time.

“I can imagine.” It would feel good actually. There had been quite a few people from work here who she wasn’t very fond of. There was never much temptation for Amelia to lose her decorum but over the past few months, she could feel herself growing more and more irritable and short-tempered. The stress of seeking information, helping people, and now the loss of one of the people she held most dear. “It would be scandalous, for sure.” she answered, unable to stop the snort from escaping her, “Goody two-shoes Bones finally shows her true colors? It might even get picked up by Skeeter at the Prophet.”

“I’m hold you to that raincheck.” Amelia said, getting to her feet. The cool night air had seemed to relieve some stress and she was ready to go back in, try to find Edgar. “I’ve got to go fine my brother but thank you..” she said softly. There was a moment of silence that hung in the air between then. Amelia never was too good at expressing her own feelings with words. “I really appreciate the talk..Tell Lily I’ve been thinking of her and hope she’s well..” With those warm wishes for his wife, Amelia turned on her heel, making her way back inside to brave the crowd once again.

[ ｆ ｉ ｎ ]

[archivist-bones]

commanderlestrange‌:

Bellatrix pondered the notion of a travel agent for a moment with a frown. It was funny, she supposed, the idea of herself and Rodolphus going on holiday as husband and wife. Domestic life was something that they had settled into surprisingly easily, considering their friendship, but the idea of a fortnight alone with him in a foreign country was a strange one. “What a strange job,” she mused, frowning. 

“Terribly nosy. It’s very rude, you know, prying into a stranger’s married life. I would hardly dream of asking about yours…..or lack thereof,” Bellatrix said with a pointed look at Amelia’s ring finger as she took the book from Amelia. “How inconvenient,” Bellatrix said sharply, before taking a final look at the woman. It was a strange encounter with a strange woman, and Bellatrix couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she had said something wrong. Perhaps the woman was merely making conversation, but to pry into her relationship with Rodolphus…..it wasn’t sitting right. 

Without so much as a goodbye, Bellatrix turned on her heel and headed downstairs where she dumped some sickles onto the counter for the book. She needed to go home and ponder this for a while, and perhaps do some research of her own into Amelia Bones.

[ 𝚏 𝚒 𝚗 ]

[archivist-bones]

alicelcngbottcm‌:

Who: Alice & @archivist-bones​ When: January 26th, Late Afternoon. Where: Ministry of Magic, London  

Alice had just gone out of the Auror Headquarters, a stack of folders in her hands. The brunette couldn’t have moved any quicker, each movement more swift than that last, not acknowledging a single soul around her. It wasn’t on purpose though, cause she had one thing only on her mind now and the rest simply didn’t seem to matter. She had a new quest, a new mission. Maybe one that would finally get her a lead to finding Dumbledore or so she hoped. And at a time like this even just hope was enough to keep her going.  

The four years she’d spent as an auror definitely seemed to age her significantly. Her once plump fresh face was now almost drained of color. Had she even seen the sun lately? But her small frame for that matter was much tougher, enough to push her through all the burdens she’d began to carry. Although more mature and slightly less approachable in the end she still was Alice Fortescue, just now her surname was changed to Longbottom. One change her peers from school probably never expected to happen so soon and neither did she. Around her fellow Order members now she kept the facade that she knew what she was doing at all times, one similar to how she had been back at Hogwarts. She was supposed to be fearless and reckless, a true Gryffindor. The one to convince all of them that this whole disappearance was probably planned and there was nothing to worry about. Dumbledore knew what he was doing and they should hang tight and wait for this madness to be over. Only all she did was worry. She seemed to constantly fear for her life to the point where she could no longer sleep unless there was a light on. Nothing that she had seen on the job so far had affected her so much, this time she was involved and the threat was more than real.

 The cold january weather couldn’t stop Alice Longbottom from hunting down anyone that stood in her way, but someone literally standing in her way could. She had just been tightening the belt on her red trench coat when she saw caught off guard by someone in front of her. She huffed and puffed as she gathered some of her belongings that had fallen, she didn’t need to be delayed any further, she had enough things to do. “ Mind where you’re going next time. ” She told the other without taking a second glance to see who it was. 

Amelia had been spending too much of her time in the archives lately. Working later and later  into the evening. To most, she was just a dedicated ministry employee but had really been spending her time sneaking looks at files outside of her own department. Always a stickler for the rules, she couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty about charming her way into file cabinets and offices all over level two but it needed to be done. She needed to find information some way and it seemed she wasn’t skilled at collecting informants, a job that recently been entrusted to her. Some of the seedier characters Amelia had encountered seemed to think that she wasn’t the one they should be entrusting with their information.

Stress and anxiety over the issue had plagued her all morning and afternoon while she tried to work. A walk seemed to be in order, hopefully it would help ease the heavy weight that had been dragging her down. She had been walking around for about thirty minutes, a calm finally starting to settle on the raging sea of emotions she’d been experiencing over the past few weeks. Considering heading back to her office now, all the calm she had managed to collect seemed to slip through her fingers as soon as a body collided with hers.

Amelia’s feelings about Alice Longbottom had always been strong and in stark contrast to most of the other people around her. She didn’t hate her, she couldn’t say she hated anyone really ( besides the Death Eater who decided to take her brother away from her ). No, Alice didn’t fall in that category but the two never seemed to mesh well. Alice had always rubbed her the wrong way and she could never seem to justify it. “Longbottom.” Amelia said, her tone betraying how less than thrilled she was to see the other woman. She had been tempted to call Alice by her maiden name, just to be petty, but she would at least try to be the bigger person. “Do you usually talk to strangers like this?”

[dariusfallon-deactivated2020020]

The Answers We Seek | A&A

[archivist-bones]

aurxrmoody‌:

WHO: Amelia Bones WHEN: Jan 22, 1980 - 9am WHERE: Alastor’s Office at the Ministry of Magic

 It was barely 9am when a sharp rap of knuckles across his door, sounded throughout his office. Alastor was nursing a steaming cup of coffee and a hell of a headache, which had him wincing at the sound. Contrary to popular belief, the constant thrumming against his skill was not from consuming copious amounts of alcohol the previous night. His tolerance towards hard liquor was so high these days, he could drink the shit like water and it had little to no affect on him- much to the Auror’s dismay. No, he’d left the Leaky Cauldron, after running into far too many familiar faces for his liking, and apparated straight back into his bedroom to escape the chilly night air- only to find himself desperately wishing he was anywhere else but there. Again.

Like most nights, sleep had evaded him, he’d tossed and turned until he was convinced his large frame was wearing a hole into the mattress. The insomnia was starting to take a toll on him- but every god damn time he closed his eyes, he saw the bodies of his fallen brethren, he heard the sounds of cast spells wizzing past his ears, narrowly missing him as he ran from fight to fight. It was only getting worse. The knock sounded again, and he grumbled a response, allowing whoever it was to enter- almost grateful for the reprieve from his own thoughts. A small part of him wasn’t surprised as the source of the noise appeared, he knew exactly why she was here. 

“Take a seat, Amelia.”

@archivist-bones​

Amelia hadn’t slept much the night before. Staying late into the evening in the archives, doing some digging on a certain family. Her run in with Bellatrix Lestrange in Diagon Alley had given her some pause. Her claims that the missing Rodolphus was currently in Albania visiting family. From what she’d gleaned over the past couple of days, and Amelia had been very thorough in her research, there currently weren’t any Lestranges living in Albania. There was also this tugging, anxious feeling in her chest over Gideon. Why hadn’t there been more information uncovered about her brother’s murderer? There had been plenty of Order members present that day in Hogsmeade.

Amelia had made an effort to get to the ministry earlier than usual. Dropping off her things in the archives before making her way towards Alastor Moody’s office. She couldn’t help but feel like this might be a futile endeavor. Perhaps she should have brought this to Kingsley instead? He was usually who she would turn to but over the past few days he seemed a bit busier than usual. Rapping her knuckles on the door a few times, it took a moment before Moody’s gruff voice invited her in. Entering the office, she let the door slip closed behind her.

“Moody.” she said a little too formally before taking the seat across from him, his desk separating them both. “There’s a few things I’d like to speak to you about.” The words were on the tip of her tongue before she thought better of herself. Amelia couldn’t help but wonder if Moody’s office was warded. He had been an auror for over twenty years but one could never be too safe, especially now. “I assume it’s safe to speak here?”

[complexbaddie]

#same

[archivist-bones]

commanderlestrange‌:

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed in Amelia’s direction briefly, sizing up the other woman. Small and unassuming - but Bellatrix above all others knew not to underestimate a woman on sight. Bellatrix herself was of petite stature, but she knew that she was the most powerful person in any room - aside from a room that contained the Dark Lord, of course. But this woman didn’t appear to be anything special; a nosy woman interested in another woman’s marriage. Some people did take a keen interest into Bellatrix and Rodolphus’ marriage: after all, they were hardly a typical husband and wife. Best friends, but nothing more. Separate bedrooms at other ends of the manor, entirely independent. It was not typical but it was perfectly them. 

“I cannot say I have spent much time outside of this country. My socialite schedule doesn’t allow for it much,” Bellatrix hummed nonchalantly. “A travel agent?” Bellatrix repeated, frowning in a small moment of confusion. Something muggle, she was sure. “I am certainly not the woman to be asking hotel recommendations from. Rodolphus is staying with family, not in hotels and tourist destinations.”

Bellatrix returned to scanning the shelves until she had spotted the book she had come here for and she bent down to snatch it up. “I believe it is an aunt. I would thank you for your help, Ms Bones, but you have been no help at all - more interested in nosing into my marriage than finishing the task you had been so desperate to help me with.”

Amelia could feel eyes boring into her back as she continued her charade of looking for the book. Bellatrix didn’t seem willing to divulge much more, though Amelia had heard she wasn’t exactly the easiest person to communicate with. Amelia silently hoped that Bellatrix believed she was simply an interested gossip. She was much more suited to research than dealing with actual suspects, that was a job best left to the aurors in the group.

“A travel agent.” Amelia repeated, raising an eyebrow at Bellatrix. It sometimes escaped her how insular the world of the pureblood elite could be. How boring it must be to sequester yourself in one world when there was so much to learn, so much to see in another. If she were able to feel some sympathy for Bellatrix, it was about the way she had been raised. Being a socialite, thrust onto a pedestal and sold to the highest bidder, sounded miserable.“Someone you pay to help you arrange a holiday.” Amelia added, certain that Bellatrix wouldn’t care about that tidbit of information either way.

“Apologies if I’ve come off as nosy..” she answered, “Just making some conversation.” An aunt in Albania. It might be nothing, of course. It wasn’t like the wealthy didn’t have money to move but it was enough of a clue. The gears were turning now and with a little digging she could probably find something useful about the Lestrange family in the archives. Amelia pretended to scan the shelves again before crouching down to retrieve Bellatrix’s book from the second to last shelf. Taking it in her hands, she stood up, moving to hand it to the woman next to her. “Ah, seems someone placed it on the wrong shelf.”

[strangerthanfiction]

happy mfuckin holidays, lucy!! @archivist-bones​

[archivist-bones]

SEASONS GREETINGS @strangerthanfiction

[archivist-bones]

pettishrew‌:

Peter shrugged. 

        It seemed like a wrong move to say that she wasn’t fragile because she was. However, that didn’t mean he was in the business of lying to her. “You look like Amelia,” He placated instead. It was the truest thing he could think of. Perhaps it was an Amelia who had just been stunned or was dealing with immeasurable grief, but underneath all of those cracks there she still was. Peter could see it, he just didn’t think she could quite yet. “You don’t have to a-apologize or pretend you’re not feeling something.” Everything he did in these moments was motivated by kindness, probably the most considerate he’d been in a while. Although he knew Amelia must have other friends – better friends – he was willing to help if he was able. 

        Peter wanted to hug her, but the physical comfort felt like it would be unwanted. So instead he listened, hands burrowed into his pockets as he latched onto every word. He nodded, pursing his lips in thought toward the end of it all. “You know that he knew that right. That you c-cared for him, and that you weren’t ready.” Peter said lightly. The funny thing about the dead was that they always seemed more knowledgable in retrospect. Least that’s the way it seemed to him. They were more understanding too. “Gideon would have known all that. Known it better even than I’m telling you now. He would have understood.” He replied, growing quiet again. Peter would hope that was the case at least, he had to imagine it was. 

        Peter’s lips quirked downward. It seemed cruel to mention that all those faces believed that they weren’t ready to go either. That none of them had really been expecting it. Although the people who worked for the order seemed to understand the price of those things. They had willingly opted into it. A risk to try to make the world a better place. Sometimes those risks came with a cost that no one was prepared to pay until it was time. Sometimes they wouldn’t be ready at all and those costs would come anyway. “I’m sorry Amelia.” Tumbles from his mouth, gnawing on his lower lip. “My Mum used to say that you could say goodbye at any time. That they’re still listening out there somewhere. You could curse them too if that helped. She said that first, we would get sad about Gran. Then sad and happy, until all that was left was the good.”

        It was a string of words that he helped was sincere instead of cheesy, because that’s how it felt. Peter gave a small smile at the sad and droopy comment. “The red ones just seemed a bit alarming. Like someone sitting straight up from sleeping and yelling ‘I LOVE YOU,’ you know?” It was a. funny though, so the Pettigrew man cracked a smile. He shrugged a little bit. “You know, I think that the yellow roses are sad and droopy too. Least a bit.”

There was only so much that could be done, that could be said. The pain of a loss like this was nothing that would ever go away but it did help to hear a few encouraging, sincere words. Today had been filled with such empty sentiment from strangers and coworkers. There was some solace in hearing someone say all the right things at exactly the right time. “I know..I know he knew I loved him.” she sighed, pushing an errant strand of hair out of her fair as she looked at the tin of biscuits resting in her lap. Whether Amelia bought into religion or the concept of an afterlife remained to be seen but she was certain Gideon had no doubt that his family loved him. Would it have been easier if she had one more moment with her brother? Maybe but Amelia couldn’t be sure.

The subjects of love and death coupled with feeling vulnerable, it was all a bit too much in this moment. Amelia cleared her throat, her eyes glancing back up at Peter who stood in front of her, hands thrust into his pockets. A kind and genuine look on his face. Their mutual hatred for red roses suddenly seemed a much more appealing topic. “I’d have to agree with you, they’re too gaudy.” she said, thinking about how the thorns had always pricked her fingers no matter how hard she tried to be careful with them. “You see them everywhere and it’s easy to get tired of the same old flower. Especially when there’s plenty of nice...Slightly droopy ones who have so much more character.”

The time had passed too quickly. Amelia would much prefer to remain outside, in the cool January air, instead of heading back into one of the hot, suffocating rooms St. Mungo’s had commandeered for the memorial. It needed to be done, she needed to deliver the eulogy. Amelia would have Edgar there to back her up but she was half-tempted to ask Peter to accompany her as well. Amelia shifted a little on the bench as she pushed the thought out of her mind. They were allies but it might be too much of an imposition to ask for something like that.

“I’ve got to find Edgar and give the eulogy.” Navigating the messy seas of emotion and mourning was not something Amelia felt particularly adept at. Her throat suddenly tight and dry as she tried to consider the words she wanted to use to thank him for being so gentle with her when so many had failed. Amelia got to her feet, tin of biscuits still clutched in her hand, taking a few steps before pressing a chaste kiss on Peter’s cheek. As she pulled away, Amelia cleared her throat once more to speak again. “I-I’m not very good at any of this but I really appreciate you being here with me, Peter.”

[archivist-bones]

edgarbonnes‌:

For the last few weeks, the Ministry has felt more of a home to Edgar than his actual flat has. Having buried himself in his work he hasn’t seen much point of going home just to sleep and then leave again. But, he also knew it wasn’t healthy to be so obsessed with having a distraction. And he didn’t want to seem as though he was avoiding his other responsibilities. One of them being making sure that Amelia was doing okay. Even though she was staying with him he felt as though he never saw her. Which wasn’t entirely either of their faults. Working in the Ministry was time-consuming. But, he wanted to make an effort. Even if it were to help his own conscience.

There were days where he wondered if he were handling all of this correctly. If there was a correct way to handle things like this. But, should he had taken time off work? Most likely. Should he be up living with his parents and taking care of them? He probably should be. But, he couldn’t bear to be around them right now. Not when they were so…broken. And he knew they would just try and take care of him instead. So he decided to stay away and he wrote to them everyday. He told them he couldn’t get time off work to stick around. A lie that made him feel terrible inside but part of him just wanted to forget and to move on. However hard that may be for him. Because he keeps expecting Gideon to just turn up at his door with food and a funny story for no other reason than to just hang out. Maybe that is why he never wants to go home.

Sighing to himself he pushed open the door to the Ministry archives. It really wasn’t hard to guess where Amelia was. And after a particularly crappy day, he just wanted to spend some time with his sister. He wasn’t trying to be quiet really, but the archives gave him such a library vibe that he made sure as to not disturb anyone as he walked over to where he saw Amelia sitting.

“I thought I’d find you here.” He said with a smile that was never quite as warm as it used to be. His eyes glanced down at the papers she was reading as he got closer but he quickly looked away again as he sat down across from her. Shrugging his shoulders he looked back over at his sister, his eyes scanning her face quickly and he almost made a comment about keeping her wand beside her hand but he scolded himself silently for being too worrisome. “Nothing. Can’t I come to see you without there being something up?” He asked her. “I was just finished work and bored. Thought maybe I would see if you’re up to anything exciting.”

The aching in Amelia’s chest was sometimes unbearable. It wasn’t a constant throbbing like it had been in the first few days of their loss but it remained just the same. Reappearing only now, as she looked into her brother’s eyes as he sat down across from her. When Amelia stared into Edgar’s eyes, she could see Gideon’s as well. Both of the men had taken after their father. Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly snapping one of the files she had been looking at closed. Keenly aware that Edgar might see fit to give her another lecture about poking her nose too far into Death Eater affairs. It was her assignment, collecting information and finding informants, but Edgar had been especially tetchy about Amelia’s involvement with the Order lately.

“I wasn’t implying.” Amelia answered swiftly despite the sudden pinprick of resentment manifesting itself in the back of her mind. She hadn’t intended the question to be an accusation, she was much too exhausted to bicker with her older brother. The dark circles and furrowed brow were enough evidence of that, although Amelia couldn’t help but wonder where Edgar had been these past few days. “I was just wondering...I figured you would’ve gone back to your place already.” 

Amelia had taken up the responsibility of tending to their parents, traveling back and forth between Ottery St. Catchpole and London most days. Her distaste for flying had made the Knight Bus a necessity. Which was overcrowded causing her commute to be extended, Amelia had never thought she would miss apparition so much. It was all so exhausting, mentally and physically. Edgar had been around the first few days, he had been exceedingly supportive at the wake as well. It just seemed like he was starting to pull away. The schedule of an obliviator, while busy, didn’t call for as many hours as he claimed to their mother he was putting in.

“Mum asked for you again this morning.” A pointed statement but Amelia offered it as gently as she possibly could. It was nice to see him, they had been like two ships passing in the night this past week, but Amelia knew the first thing their mother would ask her about when she crossed the threshold of the Bones home would be Edgar. Amelia shifted in her seat, dropping the pen she had been holding and leaning her elbows on the table between them. “Told me to tell you to come by again when they let you have some time off..”