Author's Note: Merry Christmas (or Merry Whatever Holiday you Celebrate :) )! As an early present, I'm giving you a chapter! Yay!

Chapter 23: Never a Good Time

Quite a bit of time had passed since Auror Unit B's little excursion to Hardgrave Street. Amelia hadn't realized just how much, but, as she walked through the Atrium, people were beginning to stream in, just ready to begin their day at work. Though she knew some of them, Amelia didn't stop to talk; she just kept walking, her head set determinedly forward, counting each step she took. The steady rhythm of her feet did little to cover the mess in her head, nor did it help with the burning feeling welling up behind her eyes. When she finally got outside, the fresh morning air hitting her like a gust of wind, it occurred to Amelia that she wasn't entirely sure where she was going. When she had stormed from her desk, all she had known was that she had to go somewhere, but no particular somewhere had sprung to mind.

Amelia stood still, letting the world move around her. A few cars drove past, their low, rumbling engines creating a dull roar that cut through the morning silence. People, Muggles, with their heads down, their hands clutching briefcases, walked along, looking without seeing, following a routine that dictated their existence. The sun above them had just found its place in the sky and, as it settled, its light fell upon the cars and the buildings and the people, illuminating what nobody bothered to look at, as they continued down the paths that their feet already knew by heart. Amelia watched for a second, once again struck by the simple beauty of the city. Then, suddenly remembering that she had not eaten breakfast, she shoved her hands in her pockets and went in search of a cafe.

The first cafe Amelia found was small and basically empty. The tables were round and relatively clean, so she deemed it safe to eat at. Sitting down at a table in the back corner, she picked up one of the plastic coated menus and scanned the items on offer. Deciding that waffles with bacon was a nice, frivolous contrast to the situation at hand, she hailed the rather blank looking waitress and placed her order for that as well as a cup of black coffee. The waitress had barely left when somebody else took her place, hovering over the seated witch. Amelia looked up: it was Yaxley.

"May I?" he asked, indicating the empty seat opposite her.

Amelia shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to be with anyone right now and was also unsure whether Yaxley's interest in the job was overshadowing his interest in her. But, given how rude she had just been to Fabian, she decided she shouldn't make a habit of being so to everyone. The wizard sat down, his blunt featured face wearing an expression that was possibly concern as he watched Amelia.

"I saw you leaving just now," he said after a while, absentmindedly playing with the salt shaker.

"Hmm," Amelia murmured, "that's very interesting."

His brow furrowed, though he was smiling, the look one of confused amusement. Amelia caught his eye and they both started laughing.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, still laughing, "I have no idea where my head is this morning."

Yaxley gave an indulgent smile and leaned back in his chair. For the first time in a while, Amelia felt calm. Yaxley confused her, he always had, with his intellectual stare and his habit of taking an interest at completely random times. However, she, at this moment, did not feel confused. She gazed at him and wondered why that was. Perhaps it was because she expected it from Yaxley. She never understood and so she wasn't surprised when he did something she couldn't interpret. Fabian, on the other hand, was crazy, yes, but she usually understood him and her feelings towards him. That's why it was so infuriating. She shook her head, trying to put it at the back of her mind.

The waitress arrived with her coffee and set it down on the table. Amelia gave her a smile and picked up the cup, blowing on the top, the steam dancing away. She took a sip and then sighed, though it was one of contentment as opposed to despair; it was fairly good, as coffee's went. Replacing the cup down, Amelia folded her arms and looked across at Yaxley.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said, "And receive an honest answer?"

Perhaps it was the way she phrased it, because Yaxley looked slightly surprised when he said, "yes, of course."

Amelia shifted a little in her seat.

"Are you here because you legitimately want to talk to me," she asked slowly, "or are you merely trying to ascertain whether Head of the Auror Office is still up for grabs?"

Yaxley seemed to deliberate for a moment, biting his lip slightly. Then he said, in a quiet voice, "if the job was no longer available, I would still remain sitting here."

"Because you had to?" Amelia said.

"Because I wanted to."

Yaxley reached out and placed his hand on hers.

"You fascinate me," he said, his head slightly tilted as if, even now, she was doing something that he had never seen before.

Amelia smiled, her eyes darting downwards to stare at the silver surface of the table. She wanted to respond, but, for some reason, as soon as he had touched her, all she could think about was Fabian. She was about to make some kind of excuse, when the waitress returned. She was holding a letter.

"Somebody left this for you," she said, placing it down on the table.

Amelia looked at it in confusion, removing her hand from beneath Yaxley's and turning it over. It had her name written on it in tiny block letters. She didn't recognize the handwriting. The envelope had been magically sealed, but she managed to open it. Removing the piece of parchment, she went straight to the signature at the bottom; Rowan. Her heart racing, Amelia read the rest of the message:

Amelia Bones,

I have information that I need to discuss with you right away. I can't mention it here, in case the letter is intercepted. Please meet me.

And she gave an address that Amelia knew from looking at it was at least a few miles outside of London. Amelia folded the letter up, frowning. Rowan had information for her and, given that she wished to meet somewhere private, it must've been fairly important. This presented a conflict of interest; Amelia knew she was off the case, she had shouted as much at both Frank and Fabian, but Rowan didn't know that. Should she just write back and tell the girl that her help was no longer required? Of course not. Not only was that rude, but it wasn't entirely true. If Rowan could provide her with new evidence, there might be a chance of reopening the case and finally bringing in Darius Finch and his cronies to justice. No, she had to go and meet Rowan, there was no other option.

"What's the matter?" Yaxley asked as she stood up to leave.

"Nothing," Amelia said quickly, giving a small smile, "I have to go back to work, that's all."

Before he could say another word, she walked out of the cafe and on to the street, which was busier than it had been when she'd first entered. Feeling in her pocket, she found that she'd left her wand on her desk, meaning she really would have to go back to her office.

Trying to be as quick as she could, she snuck back into the building and crept to her desk. She found her wand lying on top of some parchment, where she obviously thrown it earlier in a fit of frustration, and, putting in her pocket, she made to leave, only to find her way barred by Fabian. She almost wanted to stamp her foot, but deemed that it would look too childish. Instead she just stared down at the floor.

"We need to talk, Amelia," Fabian said calmly.

Amelia didn't respond, so Fabian, perhaps taking it as a cue, continued to speak.

"Do you remember," he asked, "when I said that after the case we would discuss why I cared so much about you?"

Amelia hadn't remembered, but, as he mentioned it, the interior of the black Sedan came back to her, as did the smell of his coat, the darkness outside and his softly spoken words.

"And, because you've been acting like a complete nut bar recently," Fabian was saying, "I think it's a good time to have this conversation."

Amelia shook her head, "it's not a good time."

"It's never a good time," Fabian interrupted, "That's our problem."

"This time it's legitimately not a good time," Amelia said.

She hesitated, then, glancing around somewhat furtively, she handed Fabian the letter she had received from Rowan. Fabian frowned as he read it.

"When did you get this?" he asked, his voice deadly serious.

"About ten minutes ago," Amelia replied, "It was dropped off to me at a cafe."

Fabian was still frowning. Amelia reached to take the letter from him, but found he was still firmly gripping it.

"So now you're going to meet her?" he said, "Has it occurred to you that this could be a fake?"

Despite her training, it hadn't occurred to her. All she had been thinking about was being able to reopen the case and finally bring justice to those involved, those who had been denied justice for so long. In her noble and determined mind set, she hadn't stopped to question the letter.

"I suppose it could be," Amelia admitted, "But what if it's genuine? Rowan might need us. And if she has new information, then we may have grounds to reopen the case."

That seemed to interest Fabian.

"So we're going?" he said.

"I'm going," Amelia responded.

"And I'm still your partner," Fabian said sharply, grabbing his coat from where it had been flung, "You're not going anywhere without me."