#its just a phase though and he stops once he realizes that ed is evidently impervious to harm

[doubledyke]

edd cutting ed's food for him any time they have lunch together as little kids

[your-stitcher-thursday]

Until You Find Me - Stitchers Fic

Hey @onthecyberseas! This is your Stitchmas fic. I tried to keep it from going too angsty. (Definitely has a happy ending!) I loved your suggestion of a HogwartsAU so that’s what I did. It’s Camanda with the tiniest hint of Camsten. Hopefully you like it. 

Thank you to @lady-gryffindor and @stitchedatbirth for hosting this event and @xoheatherkw my beta/cheerleader. 

Ordinarily it was considered an incredible act of friendship to travel long distances to be there for someone.

At one point there were people in her life that she would barely blink twice before following on this kind of task.  Kirsten Clark was not one of them.

The blonde was Camille’s latest mission. Her dossier was long and kind of tragic. Camille had it nearly memorized right down to the smudges and ink splotches of the parchment. Kirsten’s father, Daniel Stinger, had been a teacher at Hogwarts until she was eleven. He had disappeared after his wife, Jacqueline, died in an accident. Ed Clark, a friend of her parents, took Kirsten in and raised her. She was sent halfway around the world for school, away from the place her parents loved most.

For all of that, Camille never saw traces of her backstory impact Kirsten. Camille could feel her own background leaving its grimy fingerprints on everything she did. She could never escape.

It was hard to let go parents who left her at every turn.

It was tough to be raised by a teenage brother who was constantly inches from being arrested.

It was difficult to uproot her life over and over again.

The worst part of it all was that Theo’s lack of regard for the law was what first revealed Camille’s magic. There had been a sale that went wrong. Someone stole the money Theo had earned by dealing. Coming up with the missing cash fell squarely on Camille’s shoulders since Theo had decided to run and hide.

That’s when Camille met Maggie Baptiste.

Or more accurately that’s when she tried to rob Maggie Baptiste.

Her fingers were sure and swift as she lifted the wallet. It had been a relatively easy pick on a crowded street. She made it a block and a half before her mark appeared in front of her. Camille sprinted in the opposite direction, but the woman appeared ahead of her again. Eventually the thief became the pursued and was chased into a dead end alley. The only way out was in. Camille vaulted onto a closed dumpster and tried to open the window above it. She tugged at the latch, willing it to open.

And then it vanished beneath her fingers.

Shock prevented Camille from entering the apartment. She tumbled backward, sliding on the lid of the dumpster. Once she got control of her breathing back she realized that her hands were bound. Funny. She didn’t remember feeling that happen.

Her mark started chastising her about the window. It started off normally enough. Then she began to talk about the Improper Use of Magic Office and the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. That’s when Camille really felt uneasy. After several moments of silence the woman studied Camille’s face. Her expression softened as she asked if Camille was a muggle. As Maggie explained about wizards and magic, Camille’s entire life started to make sense.

The time a street light burst at just the right moment to hide her.

The way she could always find missing items.

The incredible ease with which she could lift anything from a pocket.

That summer she received an acceptance letter for a local wizarding school. She never hesitated, never looked back. Her mind had been made up the second she bailed Theo out of yet another mess. She swore it would be the last one.

Her school years passed until she was able to join the workforce. There was only one job she wanted: Auror. Maggie had become something of a hero and mentor to her so it was only natural that she wanted to grow up to be her. Camille soon joined the department.

Despite her eagerness, the job started to wear on her. Much of her job involved getting close to people in an effort to protect or investigate them. There always had to be a thin barrier up between them though, one she always saw and they never felt.

That distance was what made Kirsten Clark her favorite charge. She didn’t want to be friends. Her feelings were nearly impossible to hurt. It had been restful for Camille to not have to act all the time. Unfortunately, the distance between them was what was currently making her job hard.

If she even had one in the morning.

Camille walked down the long hall of the morgue. Ordinarily the loud thumping of her boots wouldn’t phase her, but she felt less than stealthy at the moment. Her thumb worked over the seal of her badge as she wound deeper down the corridor. A lit room at the end caught her eye. It was the only part of the building that felt inhabited. As she grew closer, Camille could hear someone faintly singing.

The room was overly bright and smelled strongly of formaldehyde, but neither of those things were what Camille noticed first. Her immediate attention went to the woman in front of her. From her victory waves and cherry red lipstick all the way down to her patent red heels, she looked like she had just popped in from the forties. Her focus drifted from the notes she was taking and fell to Camille.

Something snagged in Camille’s throat. She wanted to be witty and charming, but couldn’t find it in her to be either. Living with Kirsten had made all of her social skills rusty.

“Hi.”

The word creaked out between them. Camille wrinkled her nose slightly. That was the best she could come up with?

“Amanda.”

Camille frowned. “No, I’m Camille.”

The other woman pressed her lips together before smirking. The twinkle in her eye set Camille’s heartbeat running a little faster. “I was trying to introduce myself. My name is Amanda.”

“Oh.” A flush crept up Camille’s neck. “Right. I should probably let you get back to… all of that.” Camille gestured vaguely to the body covered with a sheet.

The smirk on Amanda’s face deepened. “You could stay a bit longer. I promise I only cut up dead people.” She picked a scalpel up off the table and waved it in the air. “Trust me.”

“Says the lady brandishing a sharp object.” Camille’s response was far breathier than she intended.

Amanda shrugged and set down the scalpel. “Monday’s and Friday’s are open mic night at The Lowdown, and a murder charge would most likely keep me from performing. Tomorrow’s a different story though.”

It worried Camille slightly that she was so happy about someone joking around about murder. Their back and forth felt like flirting. It had been so long since she had enjoyed banter like this. Giddiness bubbled up through her veins. She hadn’t wanted to know someone - let someone know her - like this in ages. It felt so good.

“Well I doubt my conversational skills are what brought you here.” Amanda walked closer to Camille. “Why are you at the morgue this late at night?”

And just like that all of the fizziness Camille had been feeling went flat.

“I’m here about Ed Clark.”

He was why Camille had apparated halfway around the world, trailing her annoying, blonde charge.

He was why Maggie was suddenly letting emotion bleed into her decisions.

He was why Camille might lose her job.

The cardinal rule to going undercover was to never let your cover slip. Camille had mastered that from a young age. The problem was that she had no real reason to follow Kirsten Clark except for Maggie’s insistence. When she fought with Kirsten about being there for moral support - a soap bubble thin reason if there ever was one - the truth had come screeching out of her. From that moment on she stopped treating Kirsten like her roommate and started treating Ed Clark as her case.

Step one was to find more information on Ed’s whereabouts. Kirsten took to Hogwarts. She interrogated several of his colleagues, including a curly-haired Muggle Studies professor. When Camille left them she could hear their verbal sparring from outside the walls of the school. Camille decided to take to the morgue. Her badge could get her access and better answers. No one would sugarcoat Ed’s final hours for an Auror.

“You’re in luck. I’m just wrapping up my notes on him.” Amanda gestured for Camille to join her. ���Do you have identification?”

Camille held up her badge. Her mood dropped slightly at Amanda’s much more professional tone. “The deceased’s daughter called earlier to confirm his body was here.”

“‘Body’ is a strong word. There was barely enough to identify him by.”

Suspicion twitched at Camille’s fingertips. “Is it possible the rest of his body is elsewhere?”

Amanda nodded. “Very possible.” She hesitated. “I’m not supposed to speculate without hard evidence.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Camille said softly, willing Amanda to trust her enough with whatever she wanted to say.

The comment earned Camille a smile that brought back some of the joy she felt earlier.

“I think he’s still alive.”

The whisper was barely loud enough to hear over Camille’s breathing.

“The entire crime scene felt like it was staged. It was too perfect. There was just enough blood for me to test.” Amanda paused. “Plus, he was friends with the Stingers.”

Camille’s brain whirled at the thought of Ed Clark not only being alive, but reunited with Jacqueline and Daniel. “I’ve got to go. You’ve been great. I’ll owl if I need anything else.”

Amanda curled her fingers around Camille’s wrist. “Wait.” She held up a pen. “So you know where to send it.”

Camille’s hand grew warm under Amanda’s. The pen slowly rolled over her skin. It left Amanda’s name and address in its wake. Camille noticed that she wrote much slower than she had before.

“Or if you want to see me again.”

Yes.

It’s on the tip of Camille’s tongue. She wants to agree so badly. Every single cell in her body is screaming at her to say yes before Amanda could change her mind.

“I won’t be in town very long.” Camille withdrew her hand sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Amanda frowned. “Me too.”

With that Camille walked out the door. She willed herself to keep going, to not look back. It wasn’t easy considering she was going toward Maggie and possibly the end of her career.

Upon arrival, Camille was expecting to get completely chewed out. She was not expecting a hug. There was something so warm about Maggie’s hugs. They were rare, but when she gave them she threw all of herself into it. Camille chalked it up to her sadness over what happened - or according to Amanda didn’t happen - to Ed.

In the hours since Camille had left, Kirsten had grown quite comfortable in Ed’s home. His squat hut was located at the furthest boundary of the school. It was quiet, secluded, and home to a number of cozy pieces of furniture. It helped too that the Muggle Studies professor was at her side as she unravelled some of Ed’s research. They had discovered a spell he had been perfecting that allowed people to project the memories of the dead.

Camille kept waiting for Maggie to fire her. She had broken the cardinal rule. There was no way they could keep her after that. And yet Maggie continued to treat Camille like family even after she shared Amanda’s suspicions about Ed being alive.

On the fourth day Kirsten accepted Ed’s position as Herbology professor. The school year was starting the following week, and she seemed like the logical successor. Maggie had arranged for a local Auror named Fisher to help Kirsten with questioning if she needed it. That seemed like the beginning of the end for Camille.

Until Maggie told her that Fisher’s department was severely understaffed. She wondered if maybe Camille would like to stop going undercover and stay put for more than a few months at a time. Her first case could be with Fisher and Kirsten.

Camille could feel the pieces of her life slowly starting to knit together. There was one more she needed to get right though.

Luckily, it was a Friday.

The Lowdown was a tiny pub on a winding street. Camille passed it three times before she spotted the place. She wasn’t sure if it was her nerves or the lack of signage that gave her trouble. Once inside, she had no trouble spotting Amanda even though she wore all black. It took Camille a couple of moments to gather herself. Amanda didn’t notice her until they were nearly face to face. She looked surprised to see Camille, though not unhappy.

“I thought you were leaving town,” she said casually.

Camille ran a hand through her hair. “Turns out I’m not. I just got transferred.”

A smile threatened to overtake the smirk on Amanda’s face. “Really? How interesting. Does that mean I’ll see you in the morgue again?”

“Only on Monday’s and Friday’s,” Camille told her. “I’d like to see you outside the morgue some days too.” Amanda’s smile lit up the dark pub. “That could definitely be arranged.”

“Without the scalpel,” Camille joked as she twined one of her hands with Amanda’s.

“Oh that might be a dealbreaker.” Amanda took Camille’s free hand in hers.

Camille took a step toward her. “Really?”

“No.”

Amanda whispered the word against Camille’s mouth before kissing her. Camille disentangled the hands and slid hers around the back of Amanda’s neck. Her fingers toyed with the soft skin there. She wanted to spin the moment out as long as she could. They were on the brink of something wonderful, something new. Camille would’ve bottled the moment and trapped it in a pensieve so she could live it over and over again if she could’ve.

They both pulled back slightly, lips barely brushing together. Amanda rested her forehead against Camille’s.

“I’m really glad you came and found me.”