the-underestimated-amelia-bones

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

kiingmck‌:

the-underestimated-amelia-bones‌:

Amelia raised her eyebrows. “What entertainment are you talking about?” she asked, noticing the emphasis the younger woman placed on the word. She was glad that an open bar was standard at events like these. It taught the youth to handle their liquor, and gave people like Amelia the ability to handle events like these.

“I hope you’re not referring to my dances of avoidance,” she said laughingly. Amelia was hoping not that many people had been paying attention to her, though she had no doubt the Society mothers would talk about how she had managed to escape their proverbial clutches with disappointment.

She shrugged. “All the more reason to take the excuse for a night away,” she replied. Work was stressful, the hours long, and there was only so much that Amelia could do or control. The inability to actually solve the real issues facing their society was disheartening as well as frustrating. 

Even though Amelia was not particularly close with the bride or groom, at least being able to look herself in the mirror and like what she saw had elevated her mood. It was an excuse for a party, and to forget. She didn’t get too many of those. 

“You do what you can, but it’s not always enough.” She wished she could be like Edgar or Alastor and throw herself into the fray. But it had been decided that she could be most useful where she was. 

Amelia was refreshing in that she wasn’t part of The Order, or so she had been made aware and, for that, the only thing they could have talked about was anything other than work. So often the conversations with Remus or Moody devolved into the next plan, the next action, the new catastrophe that would befall them all; for all of the Black Family’s misgivings, Marlene was grateful for the opportunity to be shed away from it all. 

A genuine smile was turned towards the other woman, the sentiment shining behind her eyes as she was lost in thought and complete forgot to answer any of the questions posed. “I think you and are going to be great friends, Amelia Bones,” she stated resolutely, allowing no argument as her grin widened and she nodded in finality. 

END.

dateless

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

silenciocresswell‌:

“U-umm, no.” he eventually said, shaking his head. He hadn’t even known either of the men that well, one of them he’d not met at all and the other only exchanged nods with him. (Dir k had privately thought he was very attractive and that for some reason only made him feel even more guilty.)

“I guess you’re right… I’m being selfish.” He wanted to do something to make him feel better so he wouldn’t have to dwell on what he’d seen and talked about… It was all for him rather than those poor people who’d actually lost something they were never getting back. Oh Merlin he was a bad person.

The more he thought about it the more convinced he became that he was going about this whole thing with an air of badness, taking up everyone’s time and whining about his part in it when really, it might not even affect him! It wasn’t like Dirk knew what was going to happen. Maybe he was playing this up too much cause it was new to him and it would all end in nothing?

He sighed, “Then surely there’s more professional stuff going on then one green-haired baby who’s worried about nothing.” But… what if it wasn’t nothing and in fact something and him doing nothing about his something got him in trouble? Ugh. He’d had no sleep and was talking himself in circles right now. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a big sigh, “I’m sorry, I’m just… really tired.”

And again he was making that the main issue when Amelia was telling him something very important and, no doubt, personal that should have his full attention.

“But… I want to be.” he said quietly, “I’m just, sorry you had to go through something that it wasn’t fair to put you through.” Or her bother for that matter. “But you’re right, you know this a lot better than me.”

He tilted his head when she phrased it that way, “Helping you?” Dirk parroted, blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes, they were starting to burn a little with fatigue. “W-well, if it helps you get on with what you need to do then I guess I could umm, let some people take me home.” It was an easy out and he felt bad for taking it up but at this point he felt like there were no other options.

“You’re not being selfish,” she smiled gently. She reached out again, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You just want to help, and I know that.” Merlin but this was tiring, though. Amelia knew he had been through a lot, but there was no need for Dirk to be so down on himself. She kept her patience, though, her tone firm, gentle and understanding. “When you’re only looking for what you can do, though, it can be hard to see that doing nothing is sometimes the best option.”

It was a difficult thing to do, nothing. Amelia was not particularly good at it herself. She liked—needed—to be busy. So she understood Dirk wanting to distract himself with the problems of others rather than facing his own. Approaching the family’s of the dead men to see what he could do was a course of action. And it was much easier than sitting back and accepting that there was nothing he could do to help except keep his distance and let them grieve.

She bit back an impatient retort as he tried again to say that there was more important or professional things to be done. Amelia had to remember where he was coming from. He didn’t have a background in law enforcement and investigations. He did not read case files on murder and mayhem for a living. He was tired, and scared, and sad, and she had to understand that. So she kept quiet, letting him talk himself around.

“Thank you,” she said, inclining her head towards him. “I’m sorry you had to go through this as well.” And she was. Coming across the bodies like that must have scared Dirk immensely. Amelia didn’t think the issues would end here, either. But she would deal with it one day at a time. And she was glad when he finally gave in and agreed to the protection.

It made no difference, of course. Either way, he would have been leaving here with someone watching him. The only benefit to getting his permission was that they didn’t need to skulk in the shadows in order to do it.

“It does,” she said, smiling at him. She hoped she didn’t look too satisfied. Amelia had hit the gnome on the head with this one, figuring out how best to get through to the younger wizard. “Aside from it being part of my job, I really would worry myself.”

Scribbling a quick note with her quill, Amelia waved her wand over the parchment. It turned itself into a paper airplane and zoomed out of the office to notify those who would be part of Dirk’s protection detail.

“There’s no rush. You can stay as long as you like,” she reassured him. “And like I said, if you want to sleep for a bit before you go, the couch is very comfortable.” She gestured to the piece of furniture that had served as her bed for the night on more than one occasion.

gentle check

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

silenciochang‌:

“I would rather loose a limb myself.” People seemed to think (especially in school) that Bloise was cool because he was quiet, polite and excelled at pretty much all subjects. When he spoke other’s tended to listen but that didn’t mean he enjoyed having eyes o himself all the time.

So, it was easier to only talk when necessary. Ironically that had only increased the amount of attention people paid him when he talked… Still, he supposed it could’ve been worse. “That’s why I like it here. My sister is very good with people, she thrives on conversation.” he smiled softly, talking about Niniane always seemed to bring that little smile to his face.

“Yes, I’ve met him once or twice.” Bloise supposed it wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t his place to tell Amelia about The Order; if anything he understood the deep need to keep a sister as safe as possible during these times.

“Ah, I see.” They were a loaded few words; this wasn’t the first time she’d been to see him. “Of course. If you’ll follow me to my workroom it’ll only take a few minutes.” It was a simple potion; one he was making more and more lately.  

She hid a smile at his noncommittal response. She was well aware of how Bloise and her brother knew each other. It interested her that he had wanted to join the Order and fight. He was a quiet man, and more soft spoken than others. Unassuming. But the Order needed people like that too. They couldn’t all be hot heads.

Amelia fell in behind Bloise, glad to get to what she had really come here for. Not that she didn’t enjoy speaking with him and catching up. In times like these, Amelia felt it was more important than ever to check in on people. But she had other things to do, and staying here too long made her antsy. Opened her up to more questions about why she needed more sleeping draught. 

She had waited as long as she could before coming to ask again, and tried her home remedies. But she longed to slip into blissful dreamlessness and shut off her brain. The abyss was an attractive place these days. 

“You’re out of your regular stock? Must be in demand,” she commented as she followed him to the workroom. Again, her interest was caught. She liked to see how things were done, and watching Bloise’s exact preparations would be educational as well as enjoyable.

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

elderbonesman‌:

His eyebrows rose in agreement, face set in consideration as he nodded vaguely that she had a point. “They’re very straightforward creatures, Amelia,” he rebuked, making his case in a serious tone that was belied by his teasing eyes. “Either I successfully capture them or they’re someone else’s problem. Can’t really say the same about persistent matrons looking to auction off their daughters to the highest bidder. Or sons, in your case.”

Almost distractedly Edgar asked, “Do you enjoy the company of women?” He glanced over, brows bent, the laugh gone from his eyes as he considered the best loophole to save her from this misery. “Maybe a girlfriend would repel all but the most determined mothers. What could it hurt, right? Next wedding we go to, you should keep it in mind.” Edgar winked and tapped the side of his nose, pointing at his sister in an I-got-you gesture. 

He’d never understand the craze, matchmaking for title and wealth like either of those things meant anything. Where was love in all of this? It was a ridiculous thought. He knew it was. If love mattered at all to any of these people maybe they wouldn’t be at fucking war. 

Maybe he was just remembering the best of his parents, but he didn’t think they’d have pushed either him or Amelia toward loveless marriages. The Bones’ were well off and well respected, but no so up their own asses that they forgot what was important. Or maybe they’d died before the thought of grandbabies and legacy could drive them mad like the rest of them. 

Edgar distracted himself from his thoughts by annoying his sister. He chuckled as she wriggled delicately in his arm, careful to not harm her dress or cause a scene. His sister, ever the lady. Letting her struggle for a few more seconds, he barked a protest when she stabbed her elbow into his side. 

Rubbing his ribs, Edgar rebuffed with a groused, “And you’re bony as hell. I don’t have to worry about you getting around on your own, not when you can just elbow people to death. Skel-O-Grow is an emergency potion, not a daily vitamin. Please stop.” He chuckled as she smoothed her hair and her dress.

He knew he’d gotten her when she returned his smile in kind. Thank Merlin. The sooner they could put this night behind them the better. Swivelling on his heel, he waited half a step for her to catch up with him again, rolling his eyes at the persistent weight of her gaze as she launched her interrogation. 

“Wince,” he shot back on a scoff, trying –but not really– to shake her off of his arm. “What wince? There’s a smell in this corridor. Stop looking at me like that.” He was going to have to talk to Moody about whoever trained her to interview suspects. That face was a near identical interpretation to Alastor’s tell-me-all-your-secrets face. 

Edgar glanced sideways at his sister, muttering, “You know, your lack of faith in my ability to sustain an abstinent lifestyle is insulting.” It was also deserved. He didn’t abstain from much, had never seen the point. But, after tonight, he was turning a new leaf. Was it too much to ask to have a supportive sister? “I don’t know. What usually comes standard with a life of forbearance? No sex, alcohol, drugs, fun, desire to live; what do you want from me, Amelia, to cut chocolate from my diet. Is it not enough to remain chaste?”

“I think they would throw their sons at you too if they thought they stood a chance,” Amelia teased. “You are a catch after all.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, adopting a dreamy expression. Objectively, it was true. Amelia loved her brother and thought that any woman would be lucky to marry him. But she didn’t mind that he was in no rush. She liked that they had each other.

She laughed aloud at his train of thought, shaking her head. They truly were siblings. It was amazing how similar their minds worked sometimes. And it was not always when most expected. She appreciated this, and what they had in common. It allowed them to be friend as well as siblings. Otherwise, Amelia would just feel like a burden.

Maturely, Amelia stuck her tongue out at her brother. “You’re such a delicate flower,” she replied. “It’s a wonder you manage to catch any werewolves at all if you can’t handle a few jabs.” Mercifully, it was usually done with the aid of a wand rather than her brother getting into physical altercations with them. She was under no illusions that fights happened where Edgar had to go hands on, but she preferred not to think of those instances.

Her arms tightened on his arm as he halfheartedly tried to pull from his grasp. She leaned more heavily against him, pressing more of her body weight to his side. “You’re a terrible liar,” she simply replied. An arch of her eyebrow indicated she was still waiting.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at his ridiculousness even as she laughed. “What I want to know is what made you come to this illustrious decision. Something must have happened,” she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at him. “A catalyst of some sort.”

People did not make large life changes—or claim they were going to—for no reason. It was usually as a method of going in the exact opposite direction of something, and to avoid it. Like any good sister, Amelia wanted to know what was going on in her brother’s life. And perhaps tease him about it.

No Bones Left Behind | A&E

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

tabbycatmcgonagall‌:

Minerva cocked an eyebrow. “Miss Bones, are you trying to bait me into gossiping about your brother?” She leveled Amelia with a look, holding her gaze for a beat before allowing a small smile to soften her expression and amusement to warm her eyes. 

The sight of Amelia’s bright, deflecting smile made her smooth her expression into impassive detachment. Not because the youngest Bones didn’t have a disarming and endearing smile, but because she was weaponizing it. As if a charming smile could win Minerva over. As if she didn’t have an army of children that waged emotional warfare daily, using the very same tactics. 

“I wasn’t questioning your trustworthiness, Amelia,” she replied, expression still neutral despite the challenging amusement shining behind her eyes. “Just your candor.” 

She understood why Amelia had sidestepped her question, was dodging it even now. They were women of secrets, many not their own, and were trusted for their discretion, their competence. Much as Minerva liked Amelia, and hoped the feeling was somewhat mutual, their history was too short for them to have built the kind of trust necessary for naked truths and unfiltered facts. She hoped it wouldn’t always be the case. Of anyone who might understand what it was to care for the members of the Order, while not being a member herself, the only other person that qualified was seated across from her now.

Nodding that Amelia had assumed correctly, she swallowed her sip of wine and set the glass on the table again, explaining, “Every precaution is being taken, wards reinforced, visitors being screened. We are taking every measure to ensure Hogwarts remains the impregnable safe haven it was made to be.” It wasn’t really a practiced speech, though she had said multiple variations to the many worried parents that owled the headmaster about their children’s safety. 

There was nothing more important than her students’ safety. While others might easily agree, Minerva was wholly devoted to that truth. Dumbledore was a man in many places with many projects, but her only focus was Hogwarts and its students. That would always be true.

“You would think,” Minerva said flatly in reply. She shook her head curtly as she scanned the pub in a quick glance that ended on the witch across from her. “There are few things more divisive than children and their safety. A few parents want to pull their children from the school, bring them home to keep them close. Reminding them that there is nowhere safer is an ongoing battle.”

“Would you prefer to gossip about something else?” Amelia asked cheekily, undeterred. She was curious whether Minerva could actually be drawn into gossip, whether about her brother or not.

She hadn’t truly thought to fool the witch sitting across from her. Minerva was too smart for that, and a teacher besides. She was used to half truths, evasions, and flat out lies. Students were never the most truthful bunch, so she had no doubt the professor was well used to sussing out lies. And besides which, she and Alastor….Well you couldn’t spend much time around him without picking some things up.

She gave the other woman a half smile, a rueful look in her eyes as she shrugged. Indicating that she knew she had been caught out, and hadn’t really expected not to be. She was just grateful that Minerva didn’t press harder. She was all right, truly, but if she had to give voice to her worries, and bring them all to the forefront of her mind, well, she would be less all right.

“I assume you’ve had that question a few times already,” she said wryly over the rim of her glass. It had the feel of a script to it, and she didn’t doubt that Minerva had been over it, or some iteration of it many times already.

It was normal for people to panic in times like these, and to seek comfort and information from those most likely to have it. Amelia too was fielding owls and even Howlers on the matter. People seemed to think it was just a matter of making an arrest. As if the Aurors knew who the culprits were, but were just letting them walk around freely.

“I like your wording, mind if I use some of it?” she asked with another smile. It was no surprise, since Minerva was an articulate woman as well as intelligent. She could certainly figure out how best to phrase things. Plus she had firsthand knowledge of the measures being taken, while Amelia was just going off what had been reported to her.

“People don’t like to feel helpless,” Amelia sighed. She sat back a little in her seat. It wasn’t quite a slouch, for she didn’t fully let go of her posture, but it was close enough. “They want to be in control. Whether they really do believe they can protect their children better is something of a moot point. They just feel the need to be doing something.” She certainly did not envy Minerva having to deal with all those parents.

Guilty Pleasures | Open

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

It wasn’t unusual for the knocking at her door to sound urgent, but it wasn’t commonplace either. She had shut it earlier because she had been given classified files to read, and then had gone from one task to another without thought to opening the door again. 

Moving towards it, Amelia hoped the closed door hadn’t discouraged anyone from approaching her until it was too late, and couldn’t wait any longer. She was certainly not expecting an agitated looking Rufus to be on the other side of it. Without waiting for an invitation, he entered, which spoke to his level of unease. The way with which his eyes darted around her room, and his inability to keep still in turn made Amelia nervous. 

She shut the door quickly behind him and locked it. “It’s safe,” she confirmed, managing to keep her voice level and calm. Her office was already spelled against eavesdropping, and with a wave of her wand, she made it soundproof as well so no one outside would be able to hear if he started shouting. 

“What’s wrong, Rufus?” 

Though he was a man with a notoriously short temper, Amelia could see that something had truly disturbed him this time. And not much could do that. Sure, he got annoyed easily, and was prone to angry fits, bu this, this was different. Amelia felt as if a cold presence loomed behind her. There were so many things that could be wrong, and that was the problem. She couldn’t even guess what it could be.

Let Out | Amelia & Rufus

@the-underestimated-amelia-bones

It was hard to concentrate on anything. The events that had seemed to spiral out of control made his head spin. He wondered what he’d just gotten himself into. Alone in his flat, because he couldn’t bring himself to go back into the office just yet, he’d been thinking about everything: the secret organization which he’d committed himself to, that who he thought Moody was was wrong, and that apparently he hadn’t known about what was going on beyond his reach for the past 10 years. He was going to go mad. There was only so much talking and answering he could do by himself. He needed to talk to someone.

Rufus grabbed his jacket and headed into the office. The office didn’t look any different than it had before, but knowing what was going on behind the scenes made it all seem so useless. His feet carried him to her office. He didn’t know why she’d be able to help him work things out in his head, but he trusted her and she’d listened to him many times before. Obviously, he’d have to be careful of what he said; he had given his word to Moody that he’d keep the secret. 

He found her door and knocked somewhat frantically, hoping she’d be on the other side of it. When the door opened, he stepped around her and entered her office. “I’ve got to speak with you, now. Is it safe to talk in your office?” His voice carried a sense of urgency as he began pacing back and forth. Shit, he hadn’t thought of how he was going to say things. He couldn’t just talk about the Order openly. Shit, fuck, shit.

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

talldarkandmoody‌:

He smiled at her immediate response. That was his girl, ever decisive in the spur of the moment. He watched as the shoes were taken off and placed beside his own, so much smaller in comparison. “You got it, baby.” 

He stalked over to the kitchen, pulling out a wine glass for her and a whisky glass for himself before moving towards the drink cart. Crimson red and deep amber liquids filled their respective containers before he rejoined Amelia.

“Hungry?” He asked, suddenly feeling the weight of the day sagging his shoulders. The fire in the mantle they’d just stepped through shifted from green to gold, his mind closing off the channel and letting the warmth fill the room.

“It was fine, like any other press conference. Full of dickhead reporters and political minefields.” They always took so much out of him, he was better suited to the field than the media but as Head Auror, he couldn’t exactly avoid it. 

She waited for him in the living room, a subtle way of making him enter the space in order to give her the wine. Amelia could see the weariness tugging at him, waiting for an opening. And even feeling as tired as she was sure he did, he wanted to take care of her. 

Amelia felt warm all over just looking at him, and not only because he was hot. The affection she felt for this man ran much deeper than that. She accepted her glass, but also his, tugging a little at it so he would release the amber liquid into her hands. 

Turning, she placed them down on the table behind her before stepping into his space again. Arms went around his neck, her fingers rubbing there to try to relieve some of the tension he carried there. 

She went up on tiptoes, pressing her body closer to his. Her face went into the crook of his neck. “I can wait to eat,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the skin there. 

The little witch was not trying to start anything, not yet. But she wanted to be a safe place for him, offer solace and security where she could. She wanted to look out for him as much as he looked out for her. 

“Come sit down,” she urged. Aside from wanting him to relax, Amelia also wanted to be nearer to him--if that was even possible.

over time - over tired // flashback

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

bloodmoongreyback‌:

Billowing grey whafted from his pursed lips, bleeding into the lamplight in curling, wispy fingers that dissipated into the night. Fenrir watched the way her shoulders jerked, a smirk creeping over his mouth. “Take it however the fuck you want.” He ashed his cigar. 

It wasn’t, in his mind. The world didn’t give a shit about either of them. Not him, for the chaos he created. And it sure as fuck didn’t care about her, for all the weight she carried trying to make it right. They were both going to die, except he was going to die having made more of an impact than she did, his actions smothering hers because what was Good in this war other than weakness for him to exploit. 

Bored of the conversation, of the woman, and waiting for Raven to show up to talk pack business, Fenrir put his cigar out on the wall he’d been leaning against and tossed the stump at the rubbish bins. “Entertaining as this has been,” he rumbled, pushing out from the shadows to step into the hard line of lamplight, revealing his face to her as he said, “I should get going. So much to do. So little time.” 

A grin slashed across his face, feral and lupine, as Fenrir stared down at the small witch, scenting the air for realization, waiting to see if she’d let him pass or try to do something stupid.

For a moment, it seemed like time froze. Amelia’s body tensed, her heart stopped, stomach dropped, and she swore she forgot to breathe. The witch was not an Auror, but she worked in the Auror office. She walked past the board full of the pictures of the Wizarding World’s most wanted. She read briefings, spoke at press conferences. She knew who this was. 

Fenrir Greyback.

And she had been talking to him. In a dark alley. At night. And thinking how NICE it was.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid stupid.

This would teach Amelia. Or rather, she was reminded yet again of the dangers of her world, and that anonymity might be nice, but the shadows hid all sorts of dangers. 

Had he been toying with her? More than likely. He was a predator. A monster. He was known for his cruelty, and for playing with his food. And Amelia had been chatting with him like a moron. 

She could see from his face that he knew exactly what his reveal would do. Fenrir Greyback had no doubt that he would be recognized. He was that well known. 

Amelia didn’t move, worried that anything she did would be seen as an attack, a challenge. And she was certainly not going to be challenging the notorious werewolf. Amelia might train with Aurors, she might be better equipped than a civilian in a fight, but she was by no means capable of taking down Fenrir Greyback on her own, and she knew that. 

Her arms stayed crossed over her chest. Delicate fingers surreptitiously slid blind along her wrist. She didn’t dare look down and draw his attention to the watch she was wearing. 

Mentally she sent up a silent apology to Edgar. Not only was she in mortal danger, but was facing down a monster that was very firmly in his field. It would be a double slap to the face for her brother. She didn’t allow herself to think of anything anyone else in this moment. Any other regrets. It would do nothing but distract her and make her feel even more hopeless.

“I-I wouldn’t want to keep you then,” she replied, glad her voice came out as more than a squeak, though just barely. Seeking fingers found the button she needed, and she pressed it gratefully, knowing it would alert the members of her department that she needed assistance. Now. 

She didn’t bother trying to go for her wand. He really would see that as an attack--and rightly so--even though the only thing on her mind was Apparating out of there. Since she was stuck, though, with her back quite literally against the wall, her mind began running through what she could do to defend herself.

Hurry, please. 

There was no way Amelia would be able to fight Fenrir off entirely, or even for very long. She knew that. She was realistic about her chances, about the possible death staring her in the face. So it was only defensive tactics, dirty tricks that Alastor, Edgar, and the others had taught her in order to survive that she thought of. She just needed to be able to escape, or hold him off long enough for help to arrive. 

If he was captured, it didn’t matter what happened to her. It would be worth it. 

Back Alley Run Ins | A&F

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

auror-scrimgeour‌:

God how he hated having to snoop around files and not have answers. She was right in her suggestions; they were all possible, but they wouldn’t know because Humphries’ file didn’t say much. Rufus wracked his brain for another way, but he couldn’t think of anything that was legal. Then she spoke up again.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved that she wasn’t going to let a little tape get in the way of finding out the truth. He definitely owed her a big one after all this, no matter what they found. While he was happy to have access to more of the files, he hoped that it wasn’t something she’d get in trouble for.

Rufus pulled out the rest of the files from the box and set them on the counter so that they could have a better look at them. Separating the stack in two, he suggested, “I’ll look at the bottom half, if you’ll do the top,” and handed her the stack of files to sift through.

With his own pile, he started rummaging through the folders. He set aside anything that looked like it might contain information about Humphries: a folder of witness testimonies, witness for the defence and list of associates of the accused. He didn’t find a file for witnesses for the prosecution, which meant that Amelia had that one, or it was in a different box. Of the folders he found, he scanned the files for anything related to Humphries, but he didn’t see anything.

“Find anything in your pile,” he asked over his shoulder as he pulled off more folders from his stack to look at closer.

Amelia pulled the files out of the box, dropping them onto the counter in front of her with a thump. It wasn’t fun, per se, but she did enjoy the investigative part of this, however small it might be. Her eyes sped down the words on the pages as she looked for a name, or phrase, or anything that could help them. 

Merlin, but she was pathetic for thinking this was in any way fun. It was reading, for Helga’s sake! And if wasn’t as if she was finding anything useful. 

She closed another file and placed it in the growing pile to her left. Full of nothing. 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t,” she sighed. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but I’m beginning to think that we’re not going to find the answers you’re looking for.” Amelia gave the man an apologetic look. She knew that he likes to be able to find the truth. She did too. But either the man wasn’t important enough, or was too important. Whichever it was, she had found nothing so far to help them.

Skip Level | Amelia & Rufus

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

silenciocresswell‌:

“There should be something I could do, even if it’s only telling them a comforting lie.” Sure lying was wrong but if done for good reasons it could save people a lot of unnecessary pain; those two men had been slaughtered there was no other word for it. It must’ve been indescribably painful, “That wouldn’t… y’know stop me.” Nothing would happen because of that. Though the idea of going so far he did get hurt was worrying. He’d hate to put his parents through something like that… Maybe the idea of help wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Its… feels like it would be a waste. There’s so much going on right now, so many better ways for Auror’s to spend their time and one of them coming home with me and tucking me in,” since that’s effectively what they’d be doing, just didn’t sit well with him.

He did look up at her next words, eyes widening some at the revelation; he wasn’t privy to Amelia’s life but for something like that to have happened to her, “O-oh… I’m so sorry.” he said, shaking his head a little.

“B-but I just…” he trailed off, him being awkward and not wanting to be a bother seemed only be making him a bigger bother for Amelia and that was the last thing that he wanted to end up doing.

He sighed quietly, “I don’t wanna be any big trouble.” he mumbled, “I-it wouldn’t be anything too big for you?” But maybe a small help wouldn’t be so bad. Just a little bit to help get him through the next few hours.  

“Dirk, do you know the family?” she asked, giving him a look more severe than before. “I know you said you knew the victims a little, but do you know the family? If you don’t, then what help will a virtual stranger be to them in this time when they want to be together and thinking of their loved ones. Any comfort you can offer can be given at the funerals.” 

She understood his desire to help, but he couldn’t single handedly fix everything, just like she couldn’t. There were some things that had to be left to others. And frankly, she knew what she was talking about. After her parents died, the condolences pouring in from all sides had been overwhelming. 

Everyone had wanted to offer their support, and no one had wanted to be seen shirking their duty of visiting or sending things to the Bones siblings. She had found most of the offerings unnecessary at best. Amelia had known her parents were well liked, but the tributes from those who she barely had any contact with, and knew her parents hadn’t been close to, were underwhelming. 

Amelia’s wry smile won out. “None of our Aurors are the ‘tucking in’ type,” she reassured him dryly. “They’re professionals. But I can send Magical Law Enforcement Patrol members with you instead.” It was a good compromise. They were the regular law keepers, the visible part of the Department. And they were more than capable of standing guard and keeping Dirk safe. “You’ll be in good hands with them.” 

The way his eyes widened meant he probably hadn’t put two and two together regarding her last name. And really, why should he? Her parents’ murders had been years ago. They were hardly still fresh in anyone’s minds aside from her and perhaps Edgar’s. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she reassured him, shaking her head. “You just have to accept that perhaps I know what I’m talking about?” she gave him a small, hopeful smile.

“Dirk, you’ll be helping me,” she reassured him fervently. Inwardly, she felt some tension release. “I wouldn’t be able to focus properly for worrying about you.” And wasn’t that the truth. Though, with or without his cooperation, she would probably end up sending someone to keep an eye on him. Just in case. She’d talk it over with Alastor as well, but Amelia hadn’t worked her for so long just to have learned nothing. 

gentle check

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

silenciochang‌:

Bloise smiled softly and nodded hie head, looking at the perfectly balanced scales before returning his gaze to Amelia.

“You’re correct. Balance is an important thing for me, in my work and in my life. It helps makes things easier.” Bloise had found that repeatable schedules and routine did wonders for keeping his emotions levelled and keeping him from falling too deeply into any of his own feelings.

“Perhaps you’re right. In that case it’s a skill I have little interest in developing outside of a select group of people.” Amelia was one of those for her politeness if nothing else. He could and would offer input about subjects with which he was familiar, but outside of that why would he bother unless he had to. “I think it’s a rather exhausting affair, but credit to those who’ve made it their trade.”

“Yes, I thought so, he’s older than you I think?” Not that Bloise was that familiar with the man since they hadn’t even been in the same house. “All sibling relationships are different.” he said with a very small smile, “It doesn’t mean we love them any less.”    

“That’s kind of you. I agree that it would be exhausting, and I don’t know that I’d like to make a profession out of it,” she replied, shaking her head. It was an important part of Amelia’s day to day life and job, to be sure, but she also got to work with people whom she could be honest and open with, and that was important to her.

While Amelia’s family had always encouraged lively discourse, she had been raised to maintain a certain level of propriety outside of her home. The Ministry had introduced her to people who didn’t care about small talk, and who encouraged her to be herself with them. Of course, there were always those she still had to remain guarded with, but that was just life. 

“He is,” Amelia nodded. “By a couple years.” She was glad they were so close in age...so close in general. Life without Edgar was unimaginable to Amelia, and yet, something she found herself imagining on a regular basis in her dreams. It was partly why she was there. 

“I was hoping you could make up another sleeping draught for me,” she said, her meandering ending in front of his counter. 

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

elderbonesman‌:

Ignoring his sister’s cutting glare and sharp tone, Edgar shrugged. “Around,” he said simply, knowing exactly how his derisive tone would land. He looked about their surroundings, keeping an eye out for any of the echelon’s matrons waiting in the wings, biding their time, anticipating the most opportune time to swoop in like fucking harpies. 

He glanced back at his sister narrowing his eyes, brow bent in disapproval, as he supplied, “You’ll be happy to know that I haven’t,” he knew she would be, Amelia only asked so that she could hear him admit to having suffered tonight. Well, good news, sis. “These old crones can smell fear, Ames. Fuckin’ buzzards, the lot of them. I’d take a fully shifted werewolf over this shit any day.”

A heavy sigh flattened his chest. Edgar glanced sidelong at his sister then smiled. Closing his arm around her neck, he bent her closer to him and scrubbed his knuckles into her scalp, not enough to do any real damage to her hair, but definitely enough to annoy her. He used his considerable strength to keep her in place for as long as he could before loosening his hold and letting her fight her way free, chuckling the whole time. 

He adjusted his collar, eyeing the exit before turning his focus back onto his sister. “I am if you are,” he said to her non-answer. Slapping a lopsided smile onto his face, offered a shrugged, “We came, we saw, we’re filled with regret,” and started backing towards the door with slow steps, tempting her to follow him so they could hightail it while no one was looking. 

The chill that rocketed down his spine had nothing to do with Amelia’s teasing smile, and everything to do with the too fresh memory of a certain blonde in a beautiful purple dress. Speaking of regret. His smile turned into a wince and Edgar shook the images out of his head. He answered with a P popping, “Nope,” and turned on his heel to face the escape, hoping Amelia would keep up and follow him out. “I’m actually taking a vow of celibacy. So, no more wickedness for me. Just the straight and narrow from here on out.” Because that vow had worked out so well for him the last time.

Around only meant that Edgar had been hiding, the coward. Of course he could get away with it. She had no doubt hawkish eyes watched his every move as well, but men could walk with purpose out of a room and get away with it. Of course, he might be pursued as well by a particularly determined miss or her mother. Amelia knew she couldn’t really blame him for hiding when she wished she could do the same.

“You’d take a fully shifted werewolf over a lot of things,” she reminded him. It was much to her dismay. Her brother thought nothing of throwing himself into whatever danger he came across. It was easier than thinking after all, and far easier than facing the veritable dragons of their social set.

She squirmed under his muscular arm, despite knowing it was just what he wanted. She couldn’t fight back as she’d wish to, having to keep up some appearances. It would be mortifying to be caught roughhousing with Edgar at an event such as this. Plus, she ran the risk of damaging her hair or dress, and that just wouldn’t do. She actually liked her dress, and her hair looked good tonight. As she felt his grip releasing, she gave him a particularly hard jab in the side.

“You’re incorrigible,” she said derisively, hands automatically going to her hair to smooth and push her curls out of her face. Still, she couldn’t help smiling at the boyish look on his face as he backed towards the door, tempting her to follow. And honestly, what was the point in staying? It was certainly late enough that no one could say they had ducked out early. They had made their appearances—or at least she had—she thought severely, throwing him a look.

“Ohoho, don’t think I didn’t notice that, brother of mine,” she said, jumping forward lightly on her heels, and clasping his arm between her two hands. “What was that wince about?”

She rolled her eyes at the claim that he was going to be something close to a saint. She didn’t think that her brother was a cad by any means, but he enjoyed company. “And how long will the straight and narrow last?” She smirked, tilting her head towards him. “And what exactly does it all entail?”

No Bones Left Behind | A&E

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

awearywood‌:

The splendour about them was unparalleled in its beauty, as expected from the union of two of the most powerful families in Wizarding Europe. Augustus was sure that it would be spoken of for years to come as a decadent yet classy affair. But there was something inarticulately civil about it. As if the name Lestrange had spelled everyone into a stunned state nobody wanted to be the odd-wizard-out. Even Rosier, who was something of a reliable source of drama, seemed to be taking the night off. Augustus shrugged at her question. “Weddings in most other places have a bit of spice to them that we don’t really appreciate here. Hamza Patil, who sits on the Wizengamot, had his wedding last year in Jaipur and it lasted almost a week. It was a spectacle, Ms Bones, both figuratively and literally.  Don’t you think everyone here is trying very hard to seem either unimpressed or very impressive?”

Augustus cast a glance around, nodding affably at Cassius Mulciber who’s gaze lingered on his company, before returning his gaze to Amelia. She was watching him closely and he returned her look with a grin of his own, feeling the drink doing a number on his spine. Easing him into something that resembled calm. If he was to be watched, then he would rather have Amelia on his arm than anyone else. He wanted to keep an eye, both eyes, on her for as long as was permissible. “Knowing your limits is good.” Gus agreed, mouth curling into something sly, a touch suggestive. “It took me a lot longer to find anything remotely similar. In fact, I’m still working on it.”

In contrast, Amelia was the very image of temperance, both in what she said and how she behaved. That in itself presented Augustus with a challenge, and he was longing to see her lose her cool. Augustus considered getting a second drink but Amelia was nursing her own and he didn’t want to seem rude. Instead, he offered her his arm. “ Well if your sure my age won’t embarrass you, shall we take a turn? Perhaps I can introduce you to some people who won’t try and marry you off.” Even the grand ennui of the night’s affairs looked a little brighter with Amelia’s wit in his ear.

“Isn’t that usually the way of it?” Amelia asked, looking around to take in the careful splendour around them. There was something almost wistful in her tone, in her gaze, as if her eyes were seeing beyond the ballroom to how she wished things might be. 

He was right, of course. Everyone was on their best behaviour, for no one wanted to be the cause of a scandal. They wanted to avoid spoiling or detracting from the Blacks and Lestranges special day (knowing they would suffer the consequences), and because gossips were eager to find something to latch onto and dissect. Something juicier than the table settings and floral arrangements. 

Anything less than perfection was unacceptable in their world. And anything that did not outdo what came before was considered a failure. 

“I thought you said you were an old man. How did you last a whole week of wedding festivities?” she asked teasingly, giving him a sly smile.

The thought of the different traditions was intriguing to the witch, though. She had travelled some with her family, but not extensively. And she certainly hadn’t been to any such spectacles that Augustus described. Perhaps she’d have to look into taking a vacation and seeing more of the world...though when that would be she had no idea. There were too many responsibilities keeping Amelia here, at home. Yet another reason to curse Voldemort and his Death Eaters, however selfish. 

“Well, we’re all works in progress, aren’t we?” Amelia shrugged, the gesture raising elegant slim shoulders that hid muscle and strength underneath. Wizards and witches lived long lives. They had ages to mess up, improve, grow. Amelia herself was rather hoping she wouldn’t make any more mistakes, but she was also smart enough to know that was part of life. Even Augustus, after all, who was one of the most intelligent people she knew admitted to still be working on himself.

She was surprised and a little pleased that he wanted to be seen further with her. It wasn’t as if she thought he was ashamed to be seen with her--mostly because she hadn’t considered it before. But it had always been just the two of them meeting for drinks at the Hogs Head, or exchanging pleasantries in passing. For some reason, this felt like...more. 

Something fluttered in Amelia’s stomach, and she wasn’t quite sure if it was excitement or panic. Probably a little of both. As if little pixies were spreading their wings, beating fervently against the cage of her ribs and preparing to cause mayhem. 

Amelia did not let her inner thoughts show on her face. This was an opportunity on many levels. His presence would protect her against further attacks or criticism for the moment, and she would get to speak to others she might otherwise not dream of approaching. So long as they were not all like Bellatrix, Amelia would be content. 

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, the fabric under her palm clearly expensive. “So long as it’s not a turn for the worse,” she joked, already falling into place beside him.

dateless

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

tabbycatmcgonagall‌:

“Entertaining,” repeated Minerva, tracking Amelia’s gaze over her shoulder to the eldest Bones who had no business behind Rosmerta’s bar, but seemed to be making himself at home there anyway. As he typically did. Old habits, she supposed. To Amelia, meeting her gaze again when the younger witch turned to face her, she said, “That’s a word for him.”

In truth, she rather liked Edgar, could relate to that stolid mask and the compassionate warmth hiding behind it. Minerva suspected the foundation of his tall walls was different than her own, but she understood their purpose. His sister, however, was more upfront with the light burning in her center. Approachable and good natured, not to mention her work ethic, Amelia was many of the things that Minerva wished she could be. It was always a pleasure to see the younger brunette. It wasn’t often they had the chance. 

“I can imagine,” she replied, her smile small as she regarded her, surveyed her features for the tired eyes and overworked glazed look that was becoming more prevalent among the Aurors and others in their department. The corner of her mouth curled into a not quite smile as Minerva observed, “The current climate doesn’t quite lend itself to downtime, does it? However, I’m glad that you’re doing well. I haven’t decided if I believe you, but I’ll leave well enough alone.” The sharp edge to her gaze had a distinct ‘for now’ as she nursed her wine.

Question returned to her, Minerva sighed, shoulders sagging a bit as she considered the wine in her glass, swishing lightly as she spun the step between her fingers. “Also busy,” she said, small smile resurfacing with her upward glance at Amelia. “We are near the end of the term, which is always an exciting time. Fortunately, with the exams looming, students have been devoting their time to studying rather than worrying about the world beyond the castle.”

She had to shake her head at the thought of the murders, how horrific and terrible those deaths had been. “Nothing is sacred to those people,” Death Eaters, she meant and knew Amelia would understand. “I suppose all we can do is our part to protect those unable to protect themselves.” For Minerva, it was her students, for Amelia, the wizarding world. There was no end to the respect she had for her.

“I could think of a few other words,” Amelia said teasingly. She ran her finger absently over the rim of her glass as she grinned at the older witch. “Which ones come to your mind?”

It was practically the trademark for people like them, not to want to talk about themselves. The helpers of the world gently turned the conversation away, distracted others until they forgot which question they even asked. “I’m entirely trustworthy,” Amelia reassured Minerva with a winning smile, taking a sip from her own glass. Truthful, however, was another matter, at least in this case. Amelia was glad that Minerva didn’t press her harder, but she also noticed when the other witch didn’t quite answer the question either. 

They were both practiced at this. Accomplished women more comfortable talking about their work than themselves. And yet, if anyone understood, Amelia felt Minerva would. Despite their differences.

Teaching was an ‘acceptable’ occupation for a woman, but Minerva was more than just a teacher. She was strict, and firm, and fair, and kind. And she cared about her students rather than just their grades. It was how Amelia tried to be with the Aurors as well, even if she was younger than half of them.  She wanted people to be able to come to her. That included Minerva, if she so desired.

The look she gave Minerva was knowing. Unspoken words indicating Amelia knew that Minerva had deftly avoided the bulk of the question. The only answer either of them had really given the other was that each was busy. But just as the dark haired woman didn’t push for more, Amelia, sitting back in the booth, did not either.

“Extra measures are being taken at the school, I assume?” she asked. Amelia could probably look into it once back at work, but she knew a talented with like Minerva would likely be involved in the planning. 

“Maybe this will bring people more on the same page of the parchment. No one wants their children in danger.” It was unlikely, Amelia was sure, but she hoped it was true all the same. Naive and incorrect as it may be. 

Guilty Pleasures | Open

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

disxillusixned‌:

‘Ah, the joys of being a higher up.’ He answered cheerily though it contradicted her words. He didn’t really envy her the responsibility that he supposed she had on weighing on her shoulders. He had too much to do to worry about his job in more ways than he did on a regular basis. ‘But the days are still pretty short, so I suppose it will get chilly soon.’ After all, even in London, the late winter was cold and it was a surprise that they got such a nice day so early into the year. Maybe spring was on its way. 

And for as long as he could he wanted to enjoy the sunlight with his eyes closed and his head leaned back. 

His first response to her question was to shrug. To the general public, James was an amazingly open person. He never shied away from the spotlight and in fact, had been pretty notorious for fishing for attention. Friendly and welcoming he allowed many others to enter his life and take a glimpse into his person (or sometimes get blinded by the intensity of all that created his personality), but even with this slightly naive willingness to have people around him, he tended to put on a mask. It was a sort of a personal goal of his to make others feel better if they were around him and that meant never allowing his own weakness to show. And besides, even without that characteristic James would be the last person to answer with anything but the polite, ‘Ah, I’m fine. You know us Aurors after all. We’re made of sturdier stuff.’

Amelia disliked being reminded of her position, or having it used against her. Funny, considering how often she had to remind others of it in a day in order to get them to listen to her. 

While there were some perks to the work, there was far more red tape, and a lot more headaches. Sometimes Amelia thought she’d like to be an Auror, or at least a member of the regular patrol squad. There was some red tape involved, but not as much, and she would surely be responsible for far less people. 

She understood the shrug, even if she didn’t like it. Even if she wished for more honesty. But she was not owed it, and she wouldn’t push too much. Amelia wanted to remain on good terms with both her Aurors and the Order members, so that none resented her too much, even if neither really understood her position. 

“Indeed,” she hummed. Aurors were made of steel, but even steel sometimes broke. When it got cold and brittle. At least James had good friends to help him along. “It’s okay to not be once in a while, though,” she said earnestly, giving him what she hoped was an understanding look.

She checked her watch. It was as good a time as any to end this conversation. She doubted James would spill his guts to her on a park bench right before his shift anyway. “Back to work then,” she smiled, screwing her lid back on the flask of her tea. 

Amelia got to her feet, smoothing her skirts in a practiced gesture. She stopped before walking off, turned back to him. “If you ever do need anything though...you know where to find me.” 

sunnily disposed

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

bloodmoongreyback‌:

Fenrir’s shoulders jerked. Smirking into his cigar, he muttered, “I wouldn’t say it’s especially obvious.” He also wouldn’t say that he particularly cared. Not about where she worked, or about her, but she had Ari’s scent on her and that changed things. After taking a drag he pointed at her with the thickly rolled tobacco, observing, “You just have that ‘weight of the world on your shoulders’ look that comes standard to Ministry officials.”

By the way her arms folded in front of her, he could tell that he didn’t like her talking about work. She’d probably come out here to avoid it. The other reasons to come slum it at the Hogs Head didn’t seem like the kinds of things she was interested in. She didn’t smell or look like the type than ran in his circles. She didn’t smell or look like the type that had any business chatting him up in the shadows of a back alley. 

But who was he to tell a grown woman how to live her life. Especially when he was curious to see exactly what type of woman she was. 

The question earned an amused huff from him. Fenrir licked his lips to ward off a grin. Scratching the side of his nose, he supplied, “I do freelance contract work,” smirking, “So, I guess I work wherever the work is.”

"If only more of them felt that way,” she muttered, head tilting back as she rested it against the brick, her hood cushioning her from the cold stone. Eyes gazed up at the stars for a moment. Only those who took their jobs seriously carried that weight, those fighting to right wrongs and bring justice to the world. Amelia had sadly learned that those who worked at the Ministry were not always among that number. 

“But I suppose I’ll take it as a compliment.” Amelia shrugged. He probably hadn’t even meant it as one, was probably mocking her. As if she could do anything to change the world much less carry its weight. 

She didn’t have to be a full fledged Auror to know he was being somewhat vague. Whether that was because he wanted to seem mysterious or because he really was trying to hide something was a toss up. But then, normal people didn’t just lurk in dark alleys, did they? 

Again, Amelia’s internal voice warned her there might be danger. That she was talking to a stranger in the dark behind the Hogs Head and no one knew where she was. But he wasn’t threatening, and being mysterious wasn’t a crime. 

Back Alley Run Ins | A&F

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

awearywood‌:

It had been far too long since Augustus had seen something as sweet as the pink hue that curled up Amelia’s neck, the hesitant flush of cheeks the only indication that Amelia knew. That however much they were skirting about the matter, they were both dancing the same, intricate dance that might end at any moment as the carpet was ripped from beneath them. By Moody, by Augustus’ friends, the ones that knew him for the monster he had become.  

Taking a cool sip off the effervescent liquid, Augustus’ eyebrow shot up at Amelia’s quiet apology, the challenge of her gaze. Watched openly as her neck worked to swallow down the bitter liquid, the elongation that stretched and disappeared into the navy blue collar of her dress. Felt a heat bloom and wished that he had left his jacket at his table. Dark eyes narrowed for just a moment as one of Amelia’s fingers, thin and lively and distracting, now that he noticed them, was brought to her mouth to dispose of any drink residue. 

Augustus dragged his gaze away, smiling into his drink because Amelia knew, and there was a satisfying feeling that pooled in his belly as he fell into the same trap that other men did; The small witch was not to be underestimated. 

“Well, now that you mentioned it…” he joked, aware that from someone else that might have been cutting. But Amelia had a voracious curiosity and a willingness to learn. And if it had been any other wedding, the man would have preferred to be at home with his dusty tomes but this was a reunion as much as it was a union and Augustus had obligations to uphold. And it wasn’t someone else, it was Amelia. An alignment of stars. 

“Much like you, Ms Bones, I too am under close scrutiny by the lionesses of high society.” Augustus said, giving her a knowing look, and putting a finger to his chest. “Unattached. Though I don’t envy you. The expectations, the archaic ideas of what constitutes femininity are damning. I could be half-mad with boils and my sex would protect me from criticism.” Augustus caught himself, giving Amelia a wink and a sheepish grin. “Apologies,” he said and then, after a moment,  “I have no fondness for English weddings.” 

It was times like this that their age difference became clear. “I have very few single friends, and the ones that would get married already have.” Gus couldn’t be sure about Evan, convinced that if the man found the right fabulously wealthy duchess then he might settle down. But Fenrir and Antonin? It was unlikely, unless Antonin decided he needed an heir. In which case, it was inevitable.

“Which isn’t to say there might not be a second wave. Old Theodore Nott is onto his third already. The most unfortunate Seline Greengrass.” Nott was a man of few words and great violence and Seline was hardly nineteen, a vision of blonde curls and expectant eyes. “I have endured the many years of wedding seasons, drank and danced myself to my absolute limits. But if you want to indulge, I don’t want to hold you back.” Weddings were a young person’s game, and Gus’ dislike for them shouldn’t hinder Amelia from enjoying herself.

She was aware of his eyes on her, and so could not quite make the blush go away. Amelia was excellent at maintaining her composure in general, but when faced with a knowing gaze from someone whom she had come to admire in turn.... Another sip, this time of the champagne, the cool liquid meant to quench the heat as well as her thirst.

Was it silly that she so enjoyed hearing that he too thought the expectations placed on young witches of their status were cumbersome and outdated? Amelia enjoyed structure, and there were certain things to be said for her Pureblood education, but at the same time, she would enjoy not feeling like a dragon about to be led to auction.

She tilted her head to the side, picking up on his word choice. “Do you have a preference for other weddings? Not English ones?” she queried, curious. There were different traditions everywhere. Wizards did so like to show off. 

“I am indulging,” she reassured him, holding up the glass for emphasis. “I also know my limits.”

The Bones girl liked feeling tipsy, the warmth spreading through her body, and quieting her usually rushing mind. But she did not like being drunk, nor its aftereffects. She preferred to have control over herself and her actions, and enjoyed being able to function the next morning with no ill effects other than those gotten from a late night. 

dateless