Amelia Susan Bones

Madam Amelia Susan Bones | returned |  Died fighting Voldemort. July 14th 1996

[susanibones-deactivated20220210]

Ministry of Magic | Susan Bones & Amelia Bones 10th of August, 2002 Closed starter for @asbxnes

She’d had a plan, at some point. Ever since seeing her aunt’s name in the Prophet, it’d been impossible for Susan to think of anything else and if overthinking was good for something, one would assume it was preparation and planning. And it was, in a way. Susan had made sure to note all the most important events Amelia had missed, along with the biggest changes and developments and whatnot, and in theory, she was prepared to walk her through everything, slowly, step by step without overwhelming her. A perfect plan, really.

But theory meant shit. Actually seeing Amelia in front of her, alive, Susan could do nothing but blink and try to stop the wobbling of her lip and the watering of her eyes. Pointless, of course, because in that moment, she was also hit by the sudden realisation that she didn’t care if all this Returned business was part of some bigger, evil plan or if it was just a magical glitch that would eventually fix itself or if it was even real; her aunt was standing in front of her, and she was real, and really, that was all Susan needed. She threw her arms around Amelia and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I missed you so much,” was all she managed in the middle of all the tears. She held on, couldn’t even think of letting go anytime soon. It was stupid and irrational, but now that Amelia was really here, Susan was afraid she’d disappear if she let go. “I thought– I mean, when the Returned started coming back– I hoped but– I’m so glad you’re here.”

[asbxnes]

One week. One week of being stuck in a room with the bare basics and little knowledge of the outside. Eight days ago she was dead, killed by Voldemort six years prior. She tried not to dwell on it but with little else to do it was hard. When she wasn't trying to understand what happened to her, her thoughts were on her family. There was nothing more important to her than them. Her brother and niece were all she had. The guilt of leaving them ate away at her day in and day out. She couldn't escape it.

She was informed she would be released into Susan's custody. Susan would be in charge of her well being and care. It didn't feel right to her, she should be taking care of Susan not the other way around. She didn't argue back with the decision, she simply signed her paperwork and agreed to her conditions of release. She just wanted to hold her niece again and apologise for everything.

It was far harder than she thought, standing in front of Susan and seeing her tears brought her more pain than she could have imagined. She wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly, barely holding back tears of her own. "I missed you too," she replied softly and pressed a kiss to her head. "I'm so sorry I left."  

[asbxnes]

mrcrouch​:

His gaze settled on a familiar face. Not exactly a friendly one, but a coworker. There, he’d known she wouldn’t be dead. She might have been many things, but he could remember at least that she was alive and in his old job. He strode over, closing the gap to stand hands behind his back, as if walking into the HitWix staff room to deliver some departmental memo by hand. 

“ah Bones. Good. I need a copy of your reports on the Battle of Hogwarts.” There was something off about him as his eyes slid away from her face, unfocussed for a moment before zeroing in on her again, one hand extended, as if she was going to summon the file and hand it over. 

“Yes, as I was saying…No need to send them through Weatherby, I shall handle that all myself.” He reached up to smooth down the remains of his small usually trim moustache, shape now lost to a lack of shaving both before his return and in the day since. There were small grey hairs on his chin, but that and the borrowed robes aside, he exuded an air of authority and officiousness. 

“And what’s more, we need to discuss your-” Shacklebolt. “We need to-” Shacklebolt was minister. Bones was in here with him. “The Ministry-” He couldn’t get a handle on his thoughts as they struggled sluggishly to keep up with his situation. 

“These conditions need reworking.”

Memories of her years in the Hit Wixen flooded her mind as he stood before her and made his demands. “The what?” She questioned, eyes narrowing. She hadn’t been told of any battle. Her fear for Susan’s safety grew as she considered what the Battle of Hogwarts could entail. 

“I can’t” She stated, she wished she could, not for his sake but for her own selfish reasons. She had been told that Susan and her brother were okay, they were alive but she couldn’t help the worry that sunk in. If the tables were turned she would have lied to someone in her position as well and what about Hannah? Was she safe? His rambling brought her out of her thoughts. 

“Discuss my what?” Death? Was that what he wanted to know about? “What about it?”

She turned her attention to the room around them, scanning it for the conditions that needed changing before turning back to him “I don’t see the problem. The only thing I’d change is giving full time access to a mental health specialist”

[mrcrouch]

Unacceptable.

August 3rd 2002

Holding.

The holding cell he had been placed into upon awakening was not only unfit to house prisoners according to section 14 paragraph 6.3a of the Rights and Regulations Concerning Imprisonment of Magical Beings, but there were not enough guards and there should be much more supervision. Additionally, there should be restraints on each individual. There was no telling the damage they could do as Returned individuals if simply returned to the General Public.  He had brought this up with one of the Aurors and received the shocking news that not only had Shacklebolt been made Minister (passable, the man had skills and charisma and was a hard worker) but that the Dementors had been removed from Ministry control. The greatest deterrent in their arsenal against Dark Wixen had been removed for the sake of a few people’s comfort.  The cot was acceptable, clean, and with a blanket, and there had been facilities for cleaning and biological needs, but the coffee was dangerous. He had brought that up too, suggesting it be changed to decaf or removed, but apparently the ministry now bowed to threats. He smoothed his robes down and did his best to make his beard presentable, though his request for a razor had been refused. That he could certainly understand. It was risky enough without being handed weapons. Still, cleanliness was next to godliness and he refused to be scruffy. His dear wife was not here, nor was the boy.  As the aurors on guard changed shifts he made his way up towards them, back straight. “I wish to have a newspaper. Or a summary report of the Battle of Hogwarts that I have heard about. If you contact your Head of Department, Bones, she will be able to verify that I have clearance to view such files as are relevant to any ongoing internationally relevant events."  The man looked at him and then his colleague and Barty raised his eyebrows, expectantly. "Mr. Crouch…I told you yesterday…Ms. Bones is dead."  Barty’s eyebrows lowered into a frown. Had he been told already? He didn’t think so…But regardless.  "In that case, whoever took over will be able to verify the same. And while you’re at it, we should remove all mugs. They could be used offensively.”

He turned to survey the Returned milling about, eyes darting around for any sign of trouble.

[asbxnes]

15:49. The time of her ‘Return’, if the paperwork on the table in front of her was anything to go by. She’d never been interrogated before, she had always been on the opposite end of the table. The one asking the questions and not answering them. The questions started off easy by confirming her identity and then they came thick and fast, Were you aware you had died when you awoke in the death chamber? What was your last memory? Do you know why you are here? Why are you back? It was a lot to handle within an hour of being told you had died. Her first question was far more simple. “When can I see my family?” A week, they told her, just like the others. Too long in her eyes but she understood the precautions. 

Next came the physical. Was she healthy despite their records saying she had been dead six years? This processes was quicker than she had suspected it would be, having yearly physicals on record since she was eighteen likely sped the process up. Having a baseline to compare to meant they could confirm what, if anything was wrong. The only thing Amelia noticed was her lack of magic.

Having passed all the interrogations Amelia was lead to her residences for the next week. Upon entering she let out a soft sigh. A cot and blanket. Food, drink available. It wasn’t the most lavish place but it was more than she had on at least half of her missions as a hit witch in her twenties and thirties. She would be fine but was aware others wouldn’t be. It was an interesting environment to be in. The tension and confusion hung in the air, she could almost feel it. Everyone in the room at something in common, they shouldn’t be here. Amelia herself couldn’t wrap her head around the situation, ma’am, you died. repeated in her head over and over again. She fiddled with the sheets of her cot, making sure they were on properly and tidy when her attention was pulled to a man moving towards the newly changed guard. Her back straightened, as she watched closely, her fingers fussing with the seam of her pillow case.  She couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly but knew they wouldn’t bow to any demands. 

The man turned around and Amelia darted her attention back to her pillow. “fuck” she swore under her breath. She dropped the pillow onto the bed with a thud and ran her fingers through her hair. He died and he is here. They were going to be in the same room, together, for potentially a week. They could barely be in a room with each other for a few hours. A whole week seemed impossible. Might as well get the pleasantries over with, she decided. “Mister Crouch.” she said, moving away from her bed towards him. “Anything I can help you with so you can leave the poor guards alone?” 

[asbxnes]

abbotting​:

It’s with barely audible huff that Hannah leans over a few stools to begin scrubbing at the mildly sticky surface of one of the tables, only grimacing a little as it requires slightly more force than needed. She had left her wand in her bag in the backroom, deciding that it wasn’t needed, and frankly her wandless-magic skills were somewhat lacking, that was to say, completely non-existent. 

And so the Muggle way it was.

So engrossed in her task, Hannah barely hears the sound of footsteps before her name is called and she spins around with a start. Amelia Bones is familiar in a way that Hannah cannot put into words, and the sight of her causes her heart to both swell and plummet. This was a woman who was practically family, Hannah’s friendship with Susan having cemented that long ago. A woman whose death had caused the first cracks in Hannah to form, the same cracks that then shattered open months later when her mother died.

And here she was. And while the wounds of Hannah’s own mother still burned, the sight of Amelia seemed to soothe them, at least for a moment.

“Merlin!” she exclaims, her voice a high-pitched cry as she curls her arms around her, “You’re here! You’re you!”

.

She didn’t have children of her own. She had never felt the need, once her nieces and nephews came along she lost complete interest. Why did she need to have children when her brother’s children needed her? The deaths of Edgar and his family and then her sister in law weighed heavy on her soul, even now but having Susan made that weight feel less. 

Hannah wasn’t her niece biologically, she supposed there could be a distant relation somewhere through the lines of the Bones and Abbotts but blood was irrelevant to Amelia. Amelia loved her and always would.

“I am” She chuckled lightly, rubbing her hand up and down Hannah’s back. To her, it had only been around two weeks since their last hug. She didn’t want to think about how long it had been for Hannah. Amelia fell silent for a minute before forcing herself to pull away for their hug, she wanted to look at her. “I’m not very good at these reunions I’m afraid.” she said with a soft smile. “I’m not really sure what to say. I’m so sorry, feels like a good place to start though.”

[bisexualstokes-archive]

Sofia Curtis Appreciation, requested by anonymous

[asbxnes]

fabianprewctt​:

.

It was perhaps not entirely reasonable for Fabian to be so disgruntled about the necessity of checking in with their shady overlords from level nine, but his earlier good mood from making good use of his Ministry access had faded significantly under the scrutiny of another session with Unspeakable Bell and her boundless curiosity for how he was feeling. News of the incident at The Leaky Cauldron had found its way to her (and of course it had, you couldn’t say boo without an Unspeakable hearing it) and reason was far less appealing in the aftermath of it all.

Fabian had emerged from level nine exhausted, all thoughts of taking any detours on his way back to Arthur’s office forgotten as he scratched at the back of his neck and tried to shake off the unease that clung to his skin whenever he returned to the Ministry lately. Holding had not been his happy place.

He almost missed the voice that called out to him, he turning to blink rapidly at the face that swam up in front of him in mild confusion as he tried to place it. It took a moment, staring hard at the features before him before the effects of time and memory settled and he realised exactly who he was looking at. He’d only been marvelling at the similarities between this face and the Bones crammed into a shoebox office downstairs earlier that morning.

“Amelia,” he replied, reeling for a moment before a broad, genuine smile broke across his face and he laughed in the bewildered way he’d become accustomed to whenever something stunned him. Through the surprise, he opened his arms for a hug, beckoning her in with a bright, “I look well? Come on, Bones, if we’re being inappropriate you look like you’ve seen a ghost, was right there.” 

A steadying breath, like the sight of someone so effortlessly capable as Amelia Bones might have some solidifying effect on his unsteady nerves and Fabian shook his head. “Molly saw your name in the papers last week and she said — well. I guess there’s a lot to catch up on, isn’t there?”

.

For a brief moment, she thought she had mistaken him. His confusion and stare threw her off. She wondered briefly if one of Arthur’s boys grew up to look exactly like his uncle until Fabian smiled. She’d know that smile anywhere,  despite not seeing it for over a decade, she missed it and him. “Yeah, well, I guess you could say I have, ” Amelia joked lightly, pulling Fabian into a warm hug. She never thought she’d get to do this again, hug him, pat his back. So many thoughts flooded her mind. She wondered if this was how Susan felt with her return which only added to her guilt.

Her emotions got the better of her for just a moment, a few tears ran down her cheeks.

She reluctantly pulled away, ruffling his hair as she did. "You could say that." She nodded, wiping away the few stray tears. She had briefly thought about it, the idea that those she loved could return or have already returned but to see someone she loved in front of her, someone who died sixteen years ago. Well, technically twenty two. It lifted her spirits and caused her more pain than she could have imagined. "Not a conversation for a hallway in the Ministry, I’m afraid but we can start with the fact I got old.” she chuckled. 

[priorireverte]

It’s HUMP DAY!

Half way through the week and time for a little fun, guys. 🐫 Reblogging the meme means you are both accepting asks from it and sending out asks to others.

Send 💭 and I’ll share the first five words that come to my character’s mind when they think of yours. 

[asbxnes]

When: August 11th Where: Leaky Cauldron.  Who: @abbotting​

Being outside the Ministry was a nice change for Amelia. A week in a makeshift bunker away from loved ones was tough enough. The knowledge that she had died six years ago and had returned somehow only made the room feel smaller. She promised Susan she'd be safe, despite her confusion about the situation and lack of magic she still knew how to protect herself. Still knew how to read people.

Amelia couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as she entered the Leaky Cauldron. Despite the whole world completely changing around her the Cauldron felt familiar and warm. Her eyes drifted around the room looking for the reason she came. Aunty Amelia had been the greatest title she ever received, being granted that title twice was her greatest honour. She had seen one niece and couldn’t wait any longer to see the other. 

“Hannah?” she questioned with a small smile as she approached the now fully grown woman, giving her a moment to register who she was before wrapping her arms around her in a warm hug. She missed a lot and she intended to spend every chance she could get making up for it. “Hi, sweetie.”

[asbxnes]

​when: August 10th where: Ministry of Magic with: @fabianprewctt​​​

Released into the custody of Susan Imogen Bones. It wasn’t a sentence Amelia had ever thought she’d have to hear but neither was you died, ma’am. She imagined these weren’t going to be the only firsts she would experience over the coming months. She agreed to her conditions of release to get out of the Ministry not because she agreed with them. Having a dead family member or friend released into your custody was stressful enough. Knowing you are legally responsible not only for their health but their actions too seemed over the top. 

It felt strange, being at the Ministry without a job to do. No meeting to rush to, no case to hear down in the chambers. She didn’t have a pass anymore and wasn’t allowed to have one, so she could only wonder where the public could. She felt like a ghost wandering the halls and to some, she was just that. The looks she had received ranged from terrified to sympathetic. She didn’t blame those who were afraid of her, she’d feel the same if she was in their shoes. In a way, she was. There were people she had lost that could or already have returned, including family members. She shook her head, forcing herself to let go of the hope that had crept under her skin as she sat down on a bench. They were gone. They weren't coming back.

She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there. She'd gotten caught up in thinking about everything. Her mind bounced from Susan and her brother to her friends and co-workers. Do her friends miss her? Did she leave a lasting impression, a legacy, at Ministry? She hadn't gotten the chance to answer before a familiar face caught her attention in the crowd of people. A young man with bright red hair, her heart jumped into her throat momentarily. Despite knowing the dead were returning, even returning herself, she didn't quite believe it. July of 1980 had been a blood bath. It was an endless cycle of funeral after funeral. Including the man she was looking at, Fabian Prewett. He had died alongside his twin Gideon. Amelia had attended their funeral, yet here he was. Looking just as Amelia had remembered.

"Fabian?" She questioned, darting off the bench to stand in front of him. "I. I. I don't what to say, in all honesty. You look well, seems insensitive?"

[silvertons]

She’s had a little work done.

[wnq-writers]

He was a fighter. He really was. I’ve watched people tear him down, and then ask for his help. And he would help them. He would spend hours helping them. I’ve always admired that part of him.

r.k (via renrps)

[heavensbees-archive]

We don’t shoot our mouths off, but cross us at your peril… we will protect ourselves, our friends and our families against all-comers. Nobody intimidates us.