Chapter 21

"So, are you and that bloke together?" Oliver asked as Amelia led him to her flat.

"No, Oliver," she promised. "I agreed to 1 date to get him to stop pestering me. I kissed him at the end of it, but that was the night I got your letter."

"I hear that there's something I have that he doesn't," he teased.

"You were eavesdropping," she stated. "And you know you've always had it."

"I do," he promised quietly.

They arrived at her building and Amelia pulled her keys out and led them into her flat. "So, this is me," she said. "It's not much, but it's home. I figure that for tonight you can have my room and I'll take the sofa."

"Or you could just snuggle up with me," Oliver offered with a wink.

"Very funny," she teased. "I'll just take the sofa. Can I get you tea or anything?"

"I'd love a pint," he said.

"No chance. You shouldn't have alcohol for a few days. So, you can have tea, milk, or water."

"Water is fine," he answered.

She handed him a glass of water, which he drank very quickly, and was pouring some for herself when he suddenly bolted for the toilet and threw up. She followed him and put a cool compress on his neck. "This is why you weren't allowed to be alone tonight," she said.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She handed him a glass and said, "Just sip it slowly." After a few minutes, Amelia helped Oliver to his feet and led him to her room. She helped him out of his clothes and tucked him into her bed.

"Just sit with me for a bit," he said. "Please."

Amelia was inclined to leave, but he sounded scared and almost child-like, so she grabbed her pajamas and changed in the toilet before returning to her room. Oliver was curled up in her bed and looking nervous. She climbed in next to him and sat with her back against the headboard. She let Oliver put his head in her lap and she played with his hair until he went to sleep. When she was sure he was sleeping, she kissed his temple and took a pillow to her sitting room .

Amelia woke to the sound of Oliver cursing. She went to her room and found him sitting on the edge of her bed and looking confused. "Oliver, is everything alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I just forgot where I was for a minute."

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked.

"I remember you rubbing my head until I fell asleep," he answered. "Then, I woke up and I forgot where I was." He was groggy, but needed to use the loo. She had flipped a light on and helped him to the toilet. When he came back, she had brought her pillow in from the sofa and was waiting in her bed.

"Since you can't seem to remember where you are when you wake up, I figured you shouldn't wake up alone again," she said. Oliver smiled and climbed into bed with her. She, again, massaged his temple while he was drifting off to sleep. This time, however, she even hummed a soft song to him while he lay with her. Once he was asleep, she curled around him and fell quickly asleep.

The next time she woke, she was very warm, but alone. It was still fairly early, but the day was already hot. She found Oliver in the kitchen making tea. "Good morning," she said. "Feeling better?"

"Good morning," he replied. "And yes, thank you. What are your plans for today?"

"Well, I was going to go to Diagon Alley and meet up with Fred and George," she answered. "They said they've got something planned for my birthday."

"Your birthday isn't for a few weeks," Oliver pointed out.

"I'm aware of that," she teased. "But, the twins insisted we had to meet now."

"What do you want?"

"You don't have to get me anything," she said.

"I know I don't have to get you anything, but I want to get you something," he protested. "So, what do you want?"

"Get creative," she teased. She then got serious. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I don't know where you keep anything," he said. "The tea was still out from last night." She moved around him and set to making breakfast. He tried to help, but she insisted that he sit and relax on the sofa. He refused to wait in the other room, so he hovered around the kitchen and talked with her while she cooked. They ate breakfast at the small table situated by Amelia's favorite window.

"What is it with you and windows?" he asked.

"I like to sit and watch the weather or people. It's a good place to think. It's sort of what I've always done," she explained. Oliver gave her a look, so she continued, "When I was little, if I needed to think about things or just have some time to myself, I would go to my room and sit in my window. It was loud having 4 older brothers."

"Alright, I get it love," he said. "So, today, I'm going to need to go home and change, but I thought maybe we could spend some time together."

"I'd really like that. I'll help you get home so you don't do more damage to your shoulder and then we can do something. And probably tomorrow since you're out of training for a few days," she answered. He looked scandalized, but eventually shook his head and agreed.

Oliver waited while Amelia got showered and changed. Then, she helped him apparate back to his flat to do the same thing. While Oliver was in the shower, Amelia noticed that he had kept all of the pictures of them that he had. Many were in frames and placed on tables or the mantle, and some were in an album. She didn't snoop in his bedroom, but if she had, she would have noticed that he slept with her photo by his side every night.

She was looking through one of the albums and chuckling when Oliver startled here. "Something funny in there?"

"You really have GOT to stop scaring me," she scolded. "And nothing funny in particular. I was just remembering some really happy times. Like the first time you got me drunk at one of the Weasleys' parties."

"I recall holding your hair back," he teased. "It was quite fun."

"I think you're a bad influence on me." A pregnant silence settled until Amelia whispered, "I can't believe you kept all of this."

"I guess I figured that getting rid of it would mean it's really over," he admitted. "I never wanted it to be over."

"What do you want now, Oliver?" she asked.

"I want the same thing I've wanted since the train," he said. "You. I've always wanted you." Amelia didn't say anything for a long time. "Ames, what has you so scared?"

"What if it happens again? What if we grow apart and I snog someone else again or you snog someone else and we hurt each other? What if it's so bad we can't forgive each other?"

"Ames, I can't make any guarantees about the future," he said quietly; he gently rubbed her back. "What I can promise is that I will do my best to keep you happy, I won't snog anyone else and it'll be easier now."

"I still live in London," she reasoned.

"I know, but you don't have parents or teachers getting in the way now," he argued. "We can do this. Please at least try. Just let me take you out once; if you don't have a good time, I'll bugger off."

Amelia didn't say anything for a long time. She finally just nodded and then Oliver, who was kneeling in front of her, kissed her fully. She ran her hands through his hair and readily returned the kiss. He pushed her back on the sofa and caressed her side, inching his hand under her shirt. She stopped him a few moments later and said, breathlessly, "What time is it?"

"Almost noon," he answered. "Why?"

"I'm supposed to meet the twins on the Alley in half an hour," she replied. "Come with me and after I'll let you take me out."

Oliver agreed and let Amelia straighten herself up before they apparated to Diagon Alley to meet the twins.

The twins were waiting, exactly as they promised, just inside Diagon Alley. "Amelia Clark!" George shouted. "Get your fine arse over here and let me squeeze it!"

"Watch it, Weasley," Oliver replied. "I don't want to have to deck you."

"Well, well, Georgie," Fred teased. "It looks like our little Ames here has rekindled an old romance." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Indeed it does, Freddie," George replied. "What are we going to do about that?"

"This," Fred said. And they sandwiched Amelia into a Weasley hug. "And, it's about time, you lot!" Fred finished.

"Right," Amelia said. "Down to business. I've got the new formula for you. Try not to kill anyone." She handed them a stack of papers that she had in her pocket. She made to leave with Oliver, but the twins called her back.

"You don't honestly think we've forgotten about your birthday, love," George said.

"And since Mum is being a tyrant and we may not be able to sneak away again in a few weeks," Fred continued.

"We've brought your present with us," George finished. With a flourish, he and Fred presented Amelia with her present, some firecrackers and a new invention, the Skiving Snackbox.

"The red side will make you vomit," Fred explained.

"And the green side will make you better," George finished. "It's a good way to get out of work or school when you just don't want to go."

"Cheers," she said. "You lot know how to impress a lady." Gifts in hand, Amelia and Oliver strolled down the street. The twins smirked at them just before they apparated away.

Once they were alone, Oliver turned to Amelia and said, "Now what would you like to do?"

Amelia considered for a moment and said, "Follow me." She led them through London to a park where a pick-up football match was being played. She asked if she could join and Oliver watched her play around for a bit. When she finished the game, they went back to her flat and had tea.

"I didn't notice earlier that you have a telly," Oliver mused. "Can we watch?"

"Sure," she giggled. "Have you ever watched telly?"

"No," Oliver replied. "We didn't have one in the house growing up."

She grabbed the remote control and flipped on a football match. Oliver marveled at the television and was impressed. They sat on the sofa together. When the match ended, Amelia switched off the telly and Oliver looked over at her. Then, he leaned over and kissed her.

He lay her back on the sofa and started playing with the hem of her shirt. She pushed him back and raised her arms so that he could remove her shirt. Then, she grabbed at his shirt and yanked it over his head. The sudden movement hurt his sore shoulder and he winced. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"I'll get over it, love," he replied. "Now, where were we?"

"I believe you were just about to," she started, but she didn't get to finish. An owl started pecking at her window and though she wanted to ignore it, the bird would not leave. She wiggled out from beneath Oliver and opened the window. The bird landed on the coffee table and stuck its leg out at her. She pulled the envelope off the owl and read the letter. When she finished, she swore.

"What is it?" Oliver asked.

"I'm being summoned to my supervisor's office," she said. "They want a meeting with me immediately. If I'm not there in an hour, I'll be released from the program."

"This is because of me, isn't it?" he asked.

"No, Oliver, it's because Dylan is a jealous arse who thought there was more going on between us than there was. I'll be back soon," she promised. "Wait here." She grabbed her wand and apparated to St. Mungo's.

When Amelia arrived at her supervisor's office, there was a crowd of people waiting. Amelia walked in, still wearing her jeans and tank top that she had pulled on that morning, and immediately felt out of place. "I was asked to come in straight away?" she said, timidly.

"Yes, Miss Clark," said Healer Jameson. "We've been told about a certain…incident between you and a patient last night. I believe you were instructed to see that Mr. Wood stayed awake, not take a nap with him."

"He did stay awake, sir, and we were talking," Amelia replied.

"And what, precisely, is the nature of your relationship with the patient?" asked a witch that Amelia didn't know.

"I don't think that's really relevant at this point," Amelia countered.

"It's relevant if we think it is," added Healer Florence Scott, who was Healer Jameson's boss. "What is the nature of your relationship with the patient in question?"

"He was my boyfriend while I was at Hogwarts and he's my friend," she replied. "Nothing happened here that I wouldn't tell my father about."

"Did you take him home with you?" Healer Jameson asked.

"Why does it matter? Am I being told that I am not to associate with friends outside of working hours?" Amelia argued.

"You are if they are patients," Healer Scott stated. "Did he come home with you?"

"Yes, he did, and he's at my home now." Amelia remained firm. "When we left the hospital, he was no longer my patient, but he's still my friend. Now, if we're done with this preposterous exercise, I'm going to tend to my guests." Amelia started to leave, but paused when Healer Jameson called her name.

"You're on probation for the next 3 months. If you put even a toe out of line, you'll be out of the program," he warned.

She nodded and stomped out of the hospital. When she got to the closest alley, she apparated back to her flat. Oliver was still there, but he had picked up for her. "You cleaned?" she asked.

"Aye," he replied. "How did it go?"

"I'm officially on probation," she said. "If I put a toe out of line in the next 3 months, I'll be out of the program."

"That's because of me," he protested.

"It's not," she promised. "It's because the administrators are puritanical old fools who've never contemplated the possibility of 2 people of different genders who are friends."

Amelia had sat on the floor in front of Oliver and he was massaging her shoulders. He paused.

"Is that all we are?" he asked. "Just friends?"

"No, Ol, you're much more than just a friend to me, but I didn't want to tell them that," she explained. "And last night when I climbed into your cot, we weren't anything more than just friends." Oliver resumed massaging her shoulders, which were knotted with tension.

"You really should see a trainer," he suggested. "You are a mess of tension."

"I hadn't noticed," she snapped. "And my life hasn't really been a picnic lately."

"Why not?"

"For starters, I broke up with my boyfriend over Easter holidays," she said. "And then, my best friend was murdered just before graduation. Add to that moving to London and starting a new career that I'm pretty sure I hate, and it's been a rough few months." When she finished talking, she had tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wanted to write after I read about Cedric. I know he was important to you."

"Why didn't you write?" she asked. "That hurt more than almost anything."

"It's going to sound lame," he admitted, "but I just didn't know what to say."

"You could have said something like I'm sorry your friend died and I'm thinking about you," she suggested. "Or you're the only woman I'll ever love and I'll spend the next 60 years trying to find someone who can replace you, but you're irreplaceable and I'm bound to be miserable."

"I'm sorry your friend died," he said, quietly. "I've never stopped thinking about you and you are the only woman I'll ever love. No one could ever replace you and I'll be miserable without you."

"Thanks," she chuckled.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" he asked after several minutes of silence.

"No," she answered.

"Stay with me tonight," he said. "We can stay here or in my flat, but I don't want to sleep alone."

"I'd really like that," she replied.