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Written For;

LSS R6 - Prompts Used - Sweet / Chocolate Ice Cream / "You look lost." "Lost in your eyes."

Hogwarts Assignment 3 - Home Ec - Shelter and Housing - Someone who doesn't have a home.

Unexpected Miracle

Amelia walked without purpose, revelling in the fact that she could, enjoying the peace. It had been a long time since being out alone wasn't dangerous. It was nice to know that it was no longer asking for trouble to enjoy a simple moonlit walk around the neighbourhood she'd called home since being a child.

A shift in the shadows as she walked past an alley had her wand sliding into her hand without conscious thought. A second shift had her sighing in sad relief. It wasn't a danger, merely a homeless man trying to make himself comfortable on the hard ground.

She was about to continue her walk when she man shifted for a third time, throwing his face into the bright light of the street lamp.

"John?"

He blinked up at her, uncomprehending as she stepped forward shakily. She'd thought him dead, hadn't heard from him in months.

"Milly?"

"John… What? What are you doing there?"

"Milly? I… I'm dead? I knew you'd be the one to greet me," he murmured, smiling up at her. "I kind of hoped that I'd be in better shape when you found me though," he added, glancing down at his ragged clothes self-consciously.

"John… you're not dead. Come on, let's get you home," she replied, shaken but determined to help him in anyway she could.

He shook his head, his eyes welling up. "No home," he muttered. "No home, not without you, not anymore."

"John, I'm not dead," she snapped, softening immediately when he flinched away from her. "Come on. Can you walk? It's not safe to apparate around here - muggles."

He nodded, pulling himself to his feet with some difficulty. She winced when she saw how his clothes hung off him, proof of how much weight he'd lost since the last time she'd seen him.

"What happened, John?" she asked, linking her arm around his in the hopes that she would be able to keep him moving.

John shook his head frantically, and she patted his arm gently. "It's okay," she assured him. "We're okay. Come on, let's get you home. I'll run you a bath, and you've got clothes there, though I'll have to shrink them a little to fit you now."

She continued prattling on as they walked, about inconsequential things. She couldn't stand the way he was looking at her; as though she'd disappear if he dared even blink for too long.

They walked slowly, Amelia struggling at times to keep John on the pavement, but eventually, she managed to get him home. Everything was fine until she spelled open the front door.

"Milly…"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to go in there."

She frowned. "Why not?"

"Because that's where you… they showed me the pictures. I can't be where you died, Milly."

"John," she whispered, her heart breaking for him. "I'm right here. Right here."

Moving around so she was standing directly in front of him, she lifted her hand to caress his cheek gently. He leant into it immediately, a sweet smile on his face for a split second before it was gone.

"I… I can do this," he whispered, more to himself than to her, and she stepped to the side to let him lead the way into her living room.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she warded the door closed behind her. She'd long thought John lost to the ravages of war, and to have him here now, albeit in such a bad state, was a miracle she'd never expected.

"Milly," he whispered, and she looked up to see him staring at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. "You… You're really okay! I was so sure, I was positive, if I'd known you were, but -"

"John," she said, smiling lightly at him, cutting him off mid ramble. "I'm really okay. You will be okay. I'm going to go and run you a bath."

As she turned away from him, she heard him let out a small chuckle, and she smiled to herself. They'd both be okay.

"How do I look?" John asked, almost an hour later as he stepped, barefoot, into the kitchen.

Amelia was busy scooping chocolate ice cream into two bowls, but she turned when she heard his voice. The clothes still hung from his hips, but her spellwork had at least made them small enough that they weren't threatening to fall down with every movement he made.

It was his eyes however, that drew her in.

"You look lost," she admitted, turning to him completely, bowls forgotten.

"Lost in your eyes," he quipped, but it fell flat. She held her arms open to him and he stumbled forward, pressing himself against her, looking for the comfort that only she could offer him.

He buried his face against her neck, inhaling sharply.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a moment. "I should have made sure, I should have checked. I just… I saw those pictures, and I just… lost it."

"I understand," she replied, stroking his now clean hair. "Everything will be fine, John. We're both alive, the war is done… we can heal. Together, we will heal."

"I love you," he said, pulling back enough to meet her eyes. "I know we never said it before but," he paused to take a breath, his eyes welling with tears despite visible efforts to stop them. "But I always loved you."

Amelia lost the battle with her own tears as she stared into his eyes. "I love you too. I always will."