For my lovely Bex. Enjoy.
Word Count: 1324
"Milly! Might I say you are looking absolutely stunning today? Your smile truly brings out your eyes."
Amelia exhales deeply and massages her temples. As often happens when John barges into her office unannounced, she feels the first telltale signs of a headache thumping against her skull. "I'm not smiling, Dawlish," she says simply, dropping her hands to her desk and folding them neatly. She is a professional, and she will not let one of her employees ruffle her. "Is there something you wanted?"
The Auror is silent for several moments. He leans against the door frame, lips pursing as he studies her. Somehow, the silence is strangely comfortable, and Amelia finds herself able to relax ever so slightly.
"I'm curious," John says, breaking the silence after what feels like an eternity. "Why won't you accept my advances?"
Much against her will, Amelia's cheeks heat with color that betrays her stoicism. She glances down at the paperwork on her desk, desperate to look anywhere but at him. It's a conversation they've had before, and she has given him so many excuses over the years: she's his boss, it's horribly inappropriate, she just doesn't want to, he isn't her type, and so many more until she's lost track of what she hasn't said. It's all a lie though. She's never been able to bring herself to admit that the idea of letting herself be vulnerable for another person is absolutely terrifying.
"We've been over this before, Dawlish," she says.
"And I'm not buying it." He pushes himself forward, taking a few steps and sitting in the chair across from her. "Come on, Milly. I know it isn't as simple as workplace taboos. Besides, it isn't terribly hard to be discreet."
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. It would be so much easier if he would just accept it and move on. John has been pursuing her for years, and she's finding it harder and harder to resist him. At first, she had assumed it was just a silly game for him, a way to have an easy laugh while at work. Now, she knows the truth; he truly cares about her.
"There's a war coming, no matter what Fudge seems to think," John says. "I've heard Shacklebolt and Tonks talking, and… I dunno. War. Fighting. Nothing is promised."
Amelia winces at that. She's felt it in her bones that the war is still waging. The atmosphere has changed, and it is all too familiar. "I lost my brother Edgar during the first war," she says. "He thought the war was a good excuse to declare his love to Fabian Prewett."
"If I recall, quite a lot of people were rushing to get married or promising their eternal love."
She nods. It had been such a silly thing, but even she cannot deny the sweetness of it. Still, Amelia has always been too logical, too calculating. Despite being a Hufflepuff, there's a part of her that has always felt like Ravenclaw would be a good fit too. Things like romance should not be rushed.
Except this isn't rushed. Not really. John has tried for years. It's fairly obvious that he knows where his heart is.
"You can take me out to dinner tonight," she tells him with a small smile.
He grins. "See? Your smile makes your eyes brighten."
…
One dinner date leads to a coffee date a few days later. A coffee date leads to a pub date.
Soon, Amelia falls. It isn't hard to do. John has always been kind and loyal, and he's easy on the eyes. But she really gets to know him, and she begins to love him.
War is closer than ever. There's a tension in the air that she can almost taste. Maybe it will be okay. At least if the world falls apart, she knows she will have John by her side.
…
When they get the news that Voldemort is truly back and Fudge is retiring, it's a mixture of emotions.
John is pale and sick to his stomach. He sits in her office, anxiously brushing his hand through his dark hair. "It's real," he says. "I suspected, but… It's real."
Amelia needs a drink. She thinks of Edgar and the way he suffered. She thinks of all those who have been lost, and it makes her blood boil. All she can do is reach out and take John by the hand. Her lips quirk into a shaky smile. "We're going to get through this," she tells him.
She feels invincible with him by her side. War is an ugly monster, and it leaves a trail of dead in its wake. Somehow, she isn't afraid. At least she has John.
"Dinner tonight?" he asks. "My place?"
The world has begun to fall apart. Bit by bit, the safety and security of the wizarding world is starting to crack. Despite that, they still find a sense of normalcy, a way to escape the darkness.
"Oh, are you cooking?" she asks.
He laughs and shakes his head. "That would be something." He grins. "Takeaway. I was thinking maybe that Muggle place down the street? The new Thai place?"
Amelia nods. "Sounds perfect."
…
When Fudge steps down, the whispers begin. There is no replacement just yet, but Amelia can feel the eyes on her. She stands for justice, and she will make a fine Minister.
"How awkward will it be?" John asks, filling her glass halfway with wine. "There's enough scandal in dating my boss, but the bloody minister?"
Amelia sips her wine, eyes rolling. "They haven't even offered me the position, John. I swear, I've never met anyone so eager to count his owls before they hatch."
"They're going to," he says with a firm nod, as though that's enough to make him right. "Mark my words. Before the week is out, you'll have a nomination."
She shrugs. He isn't the only who thinks so, but she doesn't dare to hope. Besides, it isn't a position she's ever considered for herself. There have been times she's looked at Cornelius and thought she could do better, but it's never crossed her mind that she could have the chance.
"It won't change anything between us." She takes another sip of her drink and sets the glass aside. "I love you."
He smiles. "I love you more."
"Impossible."
…
The rumors are true, and she hears whispers of how attractive she is in the public eye, how she's bound to be the new Minister of Magic. And John is by her side, smiling and acting as her biggest supporter.
…
She wakes to the sound of footsteps. In the back of her mind, she hopes it's John, but she can feel it in her bones that it isn't.
"Amelia Bones," comes a cold, menacing voice that turns her blood to ice.
She's never heard the infamous Lord Voldemort speak, but she knows it's him. Her hand reaches in the darkness, fingers curling around her wand.
"Your blood is pure," he says, and his pale face appears, sharply juxtaposed against the pitch black of her room. "I don't want to spill it. You can join me, you know. I will spare you."
Her heart hammers painfully in her chest. She holds her head high, jaw clenched. Edgar is dead because of him. Her beloved brother is gone. How many lives has he destroyed? Harry Potter has grown up an orphan. Molly Weasley has lost her brothers. It seems that the death and destruction will never end.
"Let them know I died fighting," she says before slashing her wand through the air and conjuring a hex.
He deflects it easily. "Avada Kedavra!"
As the green light illuminates her room, she has just enough time to be be grateful that, for once, John isn't by her side before the curse finds home in her chest and everything fades to black.