Bernadette 'Benny' Hogan: I could love you again, but I don't think I want to.
~Circle of Friends
Authors Notice: A strange fic. Peter Pettigrew/Amelia Bones, a challenge from Mika. Better adore it, dahling 'cause it was bloody tough. My resources may help you better understand Amelia. Oh, and the ending long bits of dialogue is strange and vague and all mine. So it's not a poem/song/whatever.
Go see!
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He had never really been in love with anyone else.
Not really, anyway.
There was the quick crush on Evans--the girl with scarlet hair and eyes that sparkled when you made her smile. He wondered what they looked like when she cried, probably prettier, he wondered.
But Amelia Susanna Bones was different. He did not wonder what her eyes looked like when she cried, in fact, he did not wish to see her cry at all. She was rare and special and something that one only finds once in a long lifetime that is sprinkled with coldness.
Love. True love. Love that wasn't supposed to be lost.
Her Brother died, and they called him Edgar and she said it was a poor man's name because it was. He was older than her by seven years and that's much too many but her parents did not think of that.
And they also did not think of the Dark Lord.
Because they were killed. A massacre they call it. The Bones Family Massacre and not many that live now can remember it. Not like they try to.
She had a strong soul and perhaps the strongest he'd ever seen. And he was captivated by her because her strength knew no limits. Peter thought her rather lucky.
No one compared.
She had an air about her and you couldn't deny her of it--because there it was. Standing in front of you with big sky-bleu eyes and tiny hands that always held a leather-bound book. Standing in front of you in silly robes of purple as though she was a princess.
Don't ask him how he fell in love with her--don't ask him why--he won't know he won't answer. He's lost now and she's lost and they can be lost together, maybe.
They still live now and perhaps they ought to be dead. She was spared by Voldemort because she was and he was spared by the Ministry because they don't believe in justice. And they were both spared. And they should be victims but they really aren't.
He wonders what life is about and she says it's about caring for people and he wonders what justice is and she says it's the absence of the Ministry. And he wonders why she says she wants to grow up and work for the Ministry and she says to see how things go on the other side.
And he thinks it just barely makes sense.
She tells him the Ministry is good they just believe too much in justice and he says that no one is good. And she says: "And what about me?" And adjusts her orange-tinted glasses. And he sighs and says: "And maybe not even you." Oh she never was much of a good thing.
"What was Edgar like?" He asks because he's bored. She smiles and adjusts her glasses and grabs a piece of shortbread.
"I mean, if you don't wanna talk about it--" pause.
"Oh Peter, I wish, wish you could've known him like I did. He wasn't awfully nice, y'know. Came from a family of bloody Hufflepuffs and he just wasn't so. Good person, quite a bully, good person." She sighs and giggles thoughtfully. "Mummy said he was her favorite and I was never offended. She said he had something she'd never seen in anyone else. Daddy said he was arrogant. Oh, he was, Peter. More than anyone ever. But he was good, he was a good person."
"Lilia--" an old nickname stemming from the fact she found Amelia much too prude-ish and Lilia to be a princess name: "What did he think of the Order?"
"The Order of the Phoenix--" a fond grin "--loved it with all of his heart. Never anything better to him, never anything more important. It was his life, Peter and there was...nothing else for him. 'Cept for me, maybe."
Laughing.
There was no more talk.
They sit together on velvet couches and she's hardly a Gryffindor--save it all--but she's a Hufflepuff and it's not close enough. He gave her the password but everyone loved Amelia and so it was no problem. The boys talked about their girls and he talked about Amelia and said she was lovely.
And that she was.
They sneak out to the restricted section of the library far after dark and they borrow Potter's cloak. Even though he's awfully possessive of it. They sneak books about dark curses and the dark lord and sometimes the unedited versions about the four founders' lives.
They never get in trouble. Even though they'd like to.
And they grow old.
Too many kisses on the cheek, too many books read, too many candycanes eaten, too many thoughts on love, too much innocence lost.
Last day of Hogwarts.
And wasn't it...frightening?
They stood outside, the sky as their tent and the sun rained down on them and rouge fled upon her cheeks.
He looked at her and she was still tiny with wavy brown hair that tumbled in the wind. And she waved at him.
"It's over," she said. "Off to the Ministry, I s'pose...or..."
"Good," he said firmly, "it'll be good for you."
"Been so long."
"Long in coming."
Walk to the carriages.
"Bye, Pettigrew."
"And I shall see you! Later! Later!"
"Oh and forever!"
"...and ever."
"And when the mountains crash into the ocean..."
An old joke.
Since first year.
Has it really been that long?
"And when the sky falls down on the land..."
"And when the man in the moon rains upon us..."
"And when the devil kisses Mary..."
"And when the sun goes down..."
"...in the valley."
"And when I meet you again..."
"...nothing will have changed."
She pulled herself up unto the green cushion and sat a large book next to her. She whispered into her cloak and wiped away a tear he could not see. The young lady waved like mad and he blew her a sound kiss.
And the thestrals dragged the carriage, onward. Away from the young man.
He'll always wait for her to come back.
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