She didn't have many letters come to her desk, so she picked it up and used her finger to pick off the wax seal. She didn't recognize the writing on the outside, but as soon as she unfolded the parchment, she felt dizzy.
"Liv-
Would love it if you'd grace me with your presence over a cup of coffee tomorrow. I earnestly think we have some things to talk about.
Best,
Simon"
She set it down, thinking it over. Did she have anything to discuss with Simon? If he was looking for help with Ames, she was not the person to be turning towards.
She considered their friendship, having known Simon just as long as Ames. Simon was obvious closer with Ames, but she couldn't deny that he was one person she didn't feel actively abandoned by.
Simon had done nothing wrong, she decided. He deserved to hear her half of the story.
She set the letter aside while she finished up working, though it was hard to put it off her mind. Was this a set up of some sort? Did she really owe him anything?
No. She didn't. But she had such a soft spot for Simon, she couldn't say no. She took a piece of fresh parchment paper out and replied that she would meet him.
"I honestly don't love the idea," Harry said, when she told him about Simon's invitation. He stood over the stove. She sat at the table, sipping a glass of wine, while he worked on dinner. The smell of garlic permeated the kitchen, and she couldn't wait to see what he was making.
She considered his opinion, but when he glanced at her over his shoulder, it was more discerning than anything.
"I just feel his message was very genuine," she said, tracing the table's wood grain with her fingernail. "And if the situation was reversed I would want to hear his side of the story."
"You don't have to convince me," he said, though he faced away from her, sprinkling the stir fry with fresh pepper. He divided it between two plates, then set them down on the table.
"I know..." She sighed, pulling the plate closer to her so she could spear a shrimp with her fork.
"If it's something you feel like you need to do," Harry said between bites. "Do it."
She nodded, still earnestly debating it. Was it a door she even wanted to open again? Not particularly, but for Simon...
Liv looked up at the man sitting across from her, who was so kind and supportive. She saw his green eyes fixated lazily on the table. As he took another bite of food, he caught her looking at him, and she couldn't help but smile at Harry.
"I absolutely trust you're going to do what's right for you," he said, between bites. "Just let me know what you decide, yeah?"
She nodded, absentmindedly pushing a green bean around her plate.
"I haven't seen you smoke in awhile," he observed.
"Oh," she said, realizing he was correct. "Just haven't felt the urge to, I suppose."
"Makes sense," he said.
"The smoking was a recent thing," she explained. "The last six months or so. It helped me stop and take a deep breath when I needed to."
"We've all got our vices," he said. Underneath the table, she nudged his sock clad food and he nudged back, briefly smiling at her. The simple touches of comfort especially grounded her, a flush creeping up her neck from the wine.
"Dinner is delicious," she said, scooping the last bite of it into her mouth. He was a great cook, and seemed to enjoy it. She didn't have any complaints about living here. There was nothing she was trying to escape from in this house.
When he was done eating, she picked up their plates and charmed them to wash themselves. "Let's go upstairs."
After thinking about it all night, she knew she wanted to speak to Simon. If she declined, she would always want to have a conversation with him. She had things to say, things he deserved to know.
"Do you want company?" Harry asked, when she told him over lunch that she confirmed with Simon.
"I think I've got things handled," she said, knowing Simon posed no threat.
"Do you think Ames is going to be there?"
"That never even occurred to me," she said, honestly. "I really don't think Simon would do that to me. It's just not in his nature. And if Ames truly wanted to get in touch with me, he could've already."
"Well, I look forward to hearing about how it goes," he said. "I'll be home late tonight anyways, Ron and Hermione invited me over for dinner."
"Ah," she said. "Enjoy."
"Hermione invited you as well," he said.
She found herself chewing on her lip at the thought of meeting his friends. Unsure of what they knew about her, and nervous in general, she was almost glad she had plans. But she couldn't hide from them, especially after everything he had done for her.
"That's kind of her. Perhaps this weekend?"
His eyes lit up in mild surprise. "Yeah, I'll see when they're free."
"Great," she said. She looked down at her watch and realized she needed to be back in her office in three minutes. "Anyways, I've got a meeting with Rutherford I'm about to be late for. Catch up with you later."
"Good luck, Liv," he said.
He apparated to their small cottage, enjoying the familiar sight. Moss grew on the thatched roof, while a handful of flowers bloomed in window boxes off the first floor. He let himself in.
"Hello?" he called, removing his shoes at the door.
"In the kitchen!" Hermione called, and he found her standing at the sink. He gave her a friendly hug, kissing her cheek to say hello. "Just you?"
"Sorry to disappoint," he joked. He poked his head out the back door, and when he caught a glimpse of Ron trying to light the pilot on the Muggle grill, he decided it was best to leave him be.
"Now you know that's not what I meant!" Hermione said, pointing an ear of corn at him and smiling. "Now come here and help me shuck this."
"How's work?" He asked, before grabbing an ear of fresh corn from the plastic bag on the counter, and starting to peel the thick green layers off. Once he removed the silky threads from between the kernels, he handed them to Hermione to wash.
"Same old, same old," she said. "So many projects fly in to my inbox, a few fly out, occasionally there's one I care about."
She seemed more apathetic than usual about her beloved job, and he wondered if she'd had a bad day or if she and Ron had rowed before he showed up. That didn't quite feel like the explanation though, so he left it. "Sorry to hear it."
"Nonsense," she said. "I hear your life's pretty exciting these days."
"Always people up to no good that need to be chased down. You know how the Ministry is," he said.
"Harry bloody Potter, you know that's not what I'm talking about," she said, turning to him and brandishing an ear of corn in his direction once more. He noted not to accept dinner invitations involving corn in the future.
He shrugged.
"Tell me about her."
"I'm certain Ron already has," Harry countered, though he knew Ron had expressed, rather vocally, an initial dislike of Liv. Harry wasn't certain how much of it was his desire for Harry and Ginny to get back together, even years later, and how much of it was genuinely based off Liv's character. Or at least, the impression of Liv that Ron had known.
"Of course he has," she said quickly. "But I want to hear your version."
"She's brilliant," he said, trying to think about all the qualities he wanted to present her as to Hermione. He strove for authentic, but also wondered if helping Hermione like Liv would ease Ron in that direction as well.
"She was a Ravenclaw."
Hermione nodded in appreciation. She'd always admired the Ravenclaws. "Younger than us?"
"Yeah, a bit," he admitted.
She turned to face him, trying to get an answer on how much younger without having to ask too nosey of a question.
"What's the rule?" he asked, jokingly. "If your years at Hogwarts overlapped, she's not too young?"
Hermione laughed at him, covering her mouth.
"It's a rule, innit?" he asked. "Seriously?"
"We'd have to ask Bill," she said, and they laughed again.
"Regardless, yes," he said. "But she's not a kid… she's a senior researcher, worked her way up from intern."
"That's impressive," Hermione acknowledged.
"She just looks at the endlessly complicated situations that they want us to solve and gets a totally different set of information than I do," he said. "I don't know how else to explain it, but she's incredibly gifted. She understands Astrology and Divination in a way that I didn't think possible."
He saw Hermione scrunch her nose at the mention of subjects she struggled with. "Keep her away from Bill, for sure."
"What about my arsehole of a brother?" Ron asked, appearing on the other side of the screen window in front of the sink. One eyebrow was a bit singed off. Harry wondered if he knew.
"That Liv sounds like just his type," Hermione said, playfully.
Ron groaned as he came in the house. "Actually, he can have her."
"She's mine," Harry said, possessively. Ron and Harry shared a glance, and Ron shrugged, grabbing the corn and a platter of chicken to bring to the grill. He didn't stick around long.
"Ignore him," she said, as soon as Ron was out of earshot. Harry knew his friend, and was secure enough to know Ron would eventually accept Liv. But it would be a group effort to get him there.
"I didn't like her at first, either," he admitted. "Oh, we've clashed plenty in the past at work. But I got to know her and… I found something I didn't know I was looking for, I guess."
"I want to take things a little slowly," he continued to explain. "And I mean, would you bring someone around that prat?"
"I know," she sighed.
Hermione turned around to face him, her hand resting on her hip.
"What?"
"You realize she's literally living with you already? That doesn't sound slow to me."
He shrugged. "I dunno what to tell you about that."
Hermione was quiet for a few moments, then asked earnestly, "Does she make you happy?"
"Deeply" he said, enthusiastically. "It's not… not what I expected. This relationship feels very different."
"What's Teddy think of her?"
"Adores her," he said, quick enough that Hermione knew he didn't have to think about it. "And it's mutual. They took to each other quickly. She doesn't have any family left, her Mum seemed a bit… absent, and she's dead, and so far, she's fit… in really well with us."
"She sounds excellent," she said, earnestly. "And he'll come around, you know that."
Harry nodded. "I know."
"But for that to happen, you've got to bring her around, yeah?" she asked. "Did you even invite her? Wait, did Ron even pass along my message-"
"Yes," he said. "She had plans."
"Before or after you invited her?"
"I… may have mentioned it after she told me she had plans," he said sheepishly.
"Next time?"
"I promise," he said, earnestly.
"Good," she said, nodding in approval. She grabbed two bottles of Butterbeer from the fridge. "I'm going to clean up in here, bring one to Ron?"
Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "I see what you're doing here, Granger."
"I'm not even pretending I'm hiding it," she said, defensively. "Now go fix his eyebrow, please?"
He smiled at his friend, and went to make conversation with Ron.
She left work a little early to meet Simon, unfamiliar with the shop he'd requested her to meet at. She'd been running late, and knew he would beat her there.
Surely enough, she found him sitting alone in the back of the coffee place, a pot of tea and two cups in front of him. "Liv!"
Upon her arrival at the table, he stood up and greeted her, kissing her on both cheeks. "How are you, Simon?"
"I'm alright," he said, pouring her a cup of tea, then offering her sugar. She plucked a single cube from the pile. "How are you?"
She shrugged. "Work has been keeping me busy. I'm alright."
"Where are you staying?" He asked.
"With a friend from work," she explained. There was no need to give him more details than that- it simply wasn't his business.
"You're okay there?" He questioned, looking earnestly invested in her well-being.
"Oh yes," she said. "I'm fine."
A moment passed, as neither of them wanted to bring up Ames first. She idly sprinkled the bitter tea with just a small amount of extra sugar.
"You said we had something to discuss?" Liv questioned, innocently, hoping that would provoke Ames to have the conversation they needed to have.
"Ah, yes," Simon said, nervously fidgeting his hands. "Ames is not doing very well."
"How do you mean?"
"He's just... in rough shape," he said. "His coach tried contacting you and when he couldn't get in touch with you called me for help. He's drinking a lot, he's very volatile, and we have no idea what to do with him."
She considered the situation. Part of her wanted to run to Ames' side, help him get back on his feet. To do what needed to be done. But she was hesitant, because the very idea of it made her stomach turn.
"I'm not sure what you want from me," she said.
"I was just hoping you'd have some insight into what his issue is," Simon explained. "You know him best out of anyone."
"His issue is that alcohol makes him violent," she said, trying to remain calm. "And he drinks quite a lot."
"Yes, but what can we do about that?"
When she heard him ask what they could do about that, she immediately got upset. She had to separate herself from his well being. She simply did not have the personal resources to help Ames. They had been depleted during her time as his punching bag.
"Simon," she said. "I'm sorry. I can't be a part of this. I can't help Ames right now."
"What do you mean?" He asked, eyes flashing in brief anger.
"For my own well being," she said slowly. "I can't help you get Ames help. I just can't. I want nothing but the best for him, but I cannot be a part of this."
"Liv?" Simon asked. "Was he violent towards you?"
She simply nodded. "That was the final straw for me. I gave him chances to clean up his act. I just couldn't be with someone who was okay with hurting me any longer."
"It happened more than once?" Simon asked, looking surprised.
She nodded.
"Fuck," he said, rubbing the hair on the back of his neck. "He needs help."
"I agree," she said, staring down at the cup of tea she didn't want to sip. "You might be the only person who could get through to him. I thought that I could but I couldn't and I got out and I have to stay out."
"How long has this been going on?" Simon asked. "Why didn't you go to anyone for help? That's not like you, Liv. You don't put up with being a punching bag."
"A few months," she explained, though felt a slight resentment he was turning things around on her. "I've got help now. I'm in a safe place and I have good company."
"You should have told me," Simon said, looking distraught. "Do you think I wouldn't have helped you?"
"I didn't want to put anyone in the middle," she explained. "I thought it was between Ames and I. I thought it was something temporary, something I could fix. I didn't realize the magnitude of his issues were beyond something I could help."
Simon just shook his head. "I can't believe he's let himself go like this."
She swirled her spoon around the tea cup, watching the dark tea form a small whirlpool against the stark white, ceramic cup. There was nothing else she could think of to say.
"Do you think he'd be violent towards others?"
"That's not a question I can answer, Simon," she said. "I never thought he'd be violent towards me. But I rather doubt it. Try to reason with him while he's sober, perhaps you'll have better luck."
The conversation between them stopped flowing eagerly as she saw Simon calculating, considering the best way to deal with Ames. She figured this was a good place to step out.
"It's been nice to catch up," Liv said, dabbing at her chapped lips with a napkin. "But I should really get going."
He nodded. "Thank you for meeting me, Liv. I'm sure it wasn't easy."
"Anytime." She stood, and accepted a hug from him. He held her tightly for an extra long moment before holding her an arm's length away.
"Please, if you need help, feel free to contact me."
She nodded. "Be well."
"Take care of yourself," he said. She exited the coffee shop quickly, figuring out where she was in relation to Harry's so she could begin a walk home.
She had only made it about two blocks away when the overwhelming urge for nicotine had her digging through her purse in search of a cigarette. She stopped on a street corner and lit it with a match, holding the small white tip to her mouth and inhaling.
The familiar smell, taste, and burn helped her simultaneously calm down and feel alive. As she walked home, she smoked another, and another, sinking into deep loathing. As she turned on to Grimmauld Place, she looked into the pack. There were only two left.
Her brain tried to justify things- she didn't want to waste the two she had left, she'd already paid for them. Smoking two more wouldn't kill her.
But she didn't want to feel chained to this pack of cigarettes anymore. She hesitated for a moment, before taking the two slender sticks out of the pack and breaking them in two. Small brown tendrils of tobacco littered the ground as she chucked the pack into a nearby garbage can.
The house was empty, which didn't help her feel any better. She couldn't blame Harry for wanting his own social life. She had been invited, after all. Her stomach felt sour when she thought about how she had chosen meeting Simon over Harry's invitation.
She made a brief stop in the fridge, peeking at what was available in the kitchen. Leftover chicken from the other night didn't appeal to her much, so she decided she could go without dinner for now.
When she got the the landing on the third floor, she took an unfamiliar left turn into the bedroom across the hall. Her bedroom, technically, though she'd yet to spend a night in this bed. Resting on the edge of the bed, she began to unlace her work boots.
She stripped off the work shirt and pants, the last clothes she'd ever make smell like cigarette smoke, before balling them up and tossing them into her laundry basket. Her bra was annoying her, as she couldn't get the straps to sit right, so that got thrown on top, in favor of her silk dressing gown.
Feeling weird about going into Harry's room without him there and also ashamed of smoking earlier, she laid down on "her" bed, though upside down so her feet lay on the pillow. She lazily traced the pattern in the wallpaper with her finger, losing focus on it until she succumbed to sleep.
Author's Note: Once again, so sorry for the delay! There will be a chapter posted every day between now and Friday to get us up to speed. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or left a message for me! And permanent thanks to my beta, potter-reading-coastie!