Written for the Harry Potter Chapter Challenge (Felix Felicis - write about good or bad luck)

Written for the Character Pyramid Challenge (Amelia Bones, Champagne)

Written for Round 7 of the Quidditch League (Veritserum)

The Lucky Truth

One could never define their luck. It simply happened. It happened when one wasn't expecting it, or wasn't anticipating the joy it may bring. Luck was a strange thing in the world, taking hold of someone when they didn't need it, but not being there when someone desperately did.

That was how John Dawlish thought of luck, at least. He had been strolling through the bare corridors of the Ministry of Magic when luck reached him. It was nearing midnight, but he just had to tidy up a few things for the Minister the next day. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, stumbled a very drunk Amelia Bones. She clutched a bottle of some strange alcoholic drink to her chest, and it appeared as if she'd been on the stuff for a while now.

What a strange sight it was to see her like that. His memory of her consisted of all those Hogwarts nights the pair of them crept from their dormitories and shared a night out under the stars. He remembered that night she had jumped on him, claiming she wanted him to be the one. He remembered the nights of Firewhiskey consumption, but back then she had not looked like she was close to death.

It was luck, too, that had made this moment happen.

"Amelia!" he exclaimed brightly, throwing an arm across the drunk woman's shoulder. "What a pleasure to have found you at this time of night! You're just the woman I was looking for!" It was only partly a lie – he would have been searching for her tomorrow.

Amelia appeared startled, the bottle trembling in her hands. "J-John, it's been so long," she stammered.

John smiled brightly. "I know, dear, how I've missed you."

In her drunken state, she seemed to think his reasons for searching for her were personal, not professional. He allowed her to think that; it would be easier to get what he wanted from her if she trusted him.

"Say," he moved his arm so he could take his hand, "why don't we head back in your office and finish off that bottle of –"

"Champagne," Amelia slurred.

"Champagne," John repeated with a grin. He led her back into her office without any protest and took the bottle from her. A glass was already sitting on her desk, and he summoned a second. "Sit, please, dear Amelia," he instructed.

She struggled to find her seat, but when she did, it was with a thump that echoed through the office.

As he poured the glasses, filling them to the top (the bottle seemed not to empty) he made casual conversation. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what has brought you to drown yourself in such an odd-tasting drink?"

Amelia shifted uncomfortably, almost slipping from her seat. "Oh, no reason," she mumbled. "I-er-I just… there's a lot going on, you know?" She bowed her head.

John nodded. "Yes, yes, I do know," he assured her as he passed a glass into her shaking hand. "With You Know Who back, and no one believing Potter and Dumbledore, and –"

"I believe them!" Amelia shouted.

John summoned a chair to sit opposite her and smiled. "I know. As do I."

This time Amelia did fall off her chair, looking up at him with wide eyes from the floor. "You-you do?"

John nodded, helping her to her feet. "Yes. The Minister is denying it out of fear, but all the evidence points to him being back. Being so close to the Minister, though, it's hard to talk about my true feelings, no?"

Amelia regarded him warily. Even in her state, suspicion filled her. He supposed his treatment of her just after leaving Hogwarts had planted that seed of doubt and it had now blossomed into a forest. It would be hard to break through.

He took her hands. "Oh, my dear Amelia, how I wish things could have been different for the pair of us. You were the only one who could match my intelligence."

She removed her hands from his and took a large drink from her glass. "I think you should go, John," she said soberly. "You're lying to me."

"Certainly not," John assured her. "Please, Amelia, tell me what Dumbledore has told you. I wish to know."

She shook her head. "No."

"Has he been to see you in the last week?"

"Yes."

Amelia's answer seemed to surprise her, as she looked around the room as if she expected to be punished for revealing a secret meeting.

"And others were with you?"

"Yes."

John hid a smile at her apparent discomfort. "Tell me who."

"Reg Cattermole, Arthur Weasley, Amos Diggory and Mafalda Hopkirk."

Amelia jumped shakily to her feet as realisation seemed to dawn on her. "How could you?" she cried.

"I need to know, Amelia," John said calmly. "Now, what did you talk about?"

"Dumbledore wants to start an old organisation – the Order of the Phoenix – up again as an army against You Know Who. He wanted us to join him."

"You agreed?"

"I refused."

"Who agreed?"

"Arthur Weasley."

Amelia made for the door, but discovered that it was locked.

"And nobody else agreed?"

"They're scared."

"And you really do believe he is back?"

"Yes."

"You're a fool, then, Amelia. More of a fool than you were back at Hogwarts."

A tear trickled down the woman's face, and her glass of champagne fell to the floor.

John got to his feet and moved so he was standing over her. "And one more thing, Amelia. Are you still in love with me?"

Another tear fell. "Y-yes," she mumbled.

"Thank you, Amelia." John gave her a nod and left her office, leaving the older woman to down the glass of champagne that he had left there.

This is one of the pairings I've discovered and enjoy writing, but no one else does. It always seems to end badly with them, though. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this! Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts. Much appreciated.