habeas-bones:
Somewhere, deep down in the mess that is sitting before her, is a man that she knew. There are glimmers of him if she looks just right, which is hard to do. He is just so aggravating– the kind of aggravating that makes her twist in her sheets when she’s laying in bed bitter and alone. But she needs him, and he needs to know that she needs him. Beneath the layers of grim the ephemeral quality he has, that he’s always had, is still pulsating, drawing her in even though history has repeated told her that he will be nothing but trouble for her.
“That’s why I came here. Maybe trying to find a loophole makes me a bad auror, or at least a hypocrite. But no one is listening and I’m tired of waiting.” It took everything in her not to be fatigued by the moving parts of her life that all seemed to be forever paused.
She shrugged– one minute he could see through her, the next his sight was gone. “I’m fairly certain the movie and takeaway I had planned in my flat have flexible schedules, Al.” She peers around him at the picture he’s holding, her mind flipping back into auror mode. “What’s got you frowning like that?”
“Have it your way then.” He mumbles, even though this is the way he’d rather have it too. He missed her in the usual ways-when he got up alone in the morning, when he was drunk enough to cry, on Christmas; but he also missed her every time someone walked in his door with a mystery. She was the best-maybe sometime his ego would let him tell her that. But working with her, despite what he wanted to tell himself, made him better.
Amelia Bones was the best partner he’d ever had, in every sense, and he’d fucked it all to shit.
“These are hand tied.” He says, pointing at the marks on the dead man’s wrists.
“Magic ropes leave burns, not bruising. So we’re dealing with a muggleborn or halfblood or someone who knows muggles-at least enough to tie a knot without magic. That’d take some time so, whereever he’s killing them....he’s not in a rush.”
He glances at her. “Secondary location drop off, obviously, you know that.” He sighs.
“Meet me at Flannigan’s tomorrow morning? I need to be uh...” He picks up the glass of whiskey and downs it. “Soberer for this. You could’ve owled.” She shoots him a look and he scoffs. “Kidding, obviously. Should know better than to expect curtesey from the Aurory department.”
