She woke up before the sun, for the third day in a row. The clock said five, and she knew sleep would not become her again. She rolled off of the stiff mattress, changed into a pair of jeans, and packed up her stuff. Holly had let her stay there without hesitation, but Liv felt like it was time to consider going home. She stuffed all her belongings into a bag, and quietly headed out of the still house.

She popped into the city, looking for somewhere to get a cup of coffee that early, and stopped at a sleepy cafe. The only other patron was an old man who sat reading a paper in one of the booths. The barista tried to make small talk with her, and she was polite but didn't chat much. As soon as she had her coffee, she dropped a couple Muggle pounds in the tip jar and was on her way.

Before she could think about it much, her feet took her to Mungo's. The hospital was exceptionally still, and she almost preferred it that way. The people, the noise, they were just distractions. She didn't have much hope that Harry would be much more present today, but she had a lot of work to do today and wanted to stop by before she went to the office.

The door to his room was open, and she peaked around it to see him propped up in bed, talking to the nurse. She dared to wonder if he was… more himself this morning. His glasses were on and he seemed engaged.

"Liv," he said, as he saw her. And this time— he really saw her. His eyes were wide and curious as he tried to take her in.

She entered the room, putting her rucksack down on one of the chairs. She didn't quite know what to say, but sat down in the chair next to his bed anyways.

"I'll leave you to it," the nurse said, excusing herself.

"Hi," she said, feeling entirely unsure.

"Come here," he said, extending his right hand towards her. She briefly noticed his left hand was still tucked to his body, which scared her, but she tried to forgot about it, if at least temporarily. She embraced him, pressing her face against his stubbly cheek. He brought his hand up to her hair, running his fingers through it.

She felt her eyes dampen, and the tears started flowing. She couldn't control it, she was filled with intense relief. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Shh…" he said, holding her close. "You're okay."

She nodded, wiping away her tears and pulling away to look at him. He was a mess, frankly, but she didn't care one bit. She held his hand, as she wiped away her subsiding tears.

"What happened?" He asked. "The last thing I can remember is bringing you breakfast on Monday. And I know I was awake last night, but I can't remember what happened."

"I have the reports," she said. "But they're on my desk at work. I'll bring them to you if you want."

"Hmm," he said, trying to work things through in his head. She didn't want to overwhelm him.

"Are you in pain?" She asked.

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "They've been medicating me plenty. I feel fine. Are you okay?"

She nodded. She couldn't imagine being anything but okay in that moment. It was easy to forget how wound up she had been the last few days when she saw him talk.

"I know there are other things I need to ask you about," he said. "But my head feels kind of fuzzy."

"It's okay," she said. "Don't push yourself. We have so much time."

She dropped her things off in the office, made herself coffee, then decided to take a walk. She'd never had a reason to visit Ron upstairs in the Department of International Magical Cooperation before, but she wanted to give him a status update.

She took the lift up four floors, and got out on the south wing. The ministry seemed entirely different up there. There was some natural light, and a newly installed water scape along the hallway. Not that she cared, at all, about the wood paneling in her office, but it was certainly a nicer set up. She opened the heavy, walnut door, and was greeted by Lance Culloughy, who had also been a Ravenclaw in her year. His partner worked in the Auror department.

"It's not often you make the trek up here, Wellwood," he said, leaning over his desk.

"That's for sure," she said, signing in. "How is everything, Lance?"

"No complaints," he said. "What brings you up here?"

"Looking for Weasley," she said. "He in yet?"

"Yes," he said, and turned a knob on his desk that would let him know there was someone looking for him. "He's expecting France at nine but I'm sure he has time to meet with you."

"Thank you," she said, and went to take a seat.

"Hey," Lance said, lowering his voice. "Am I correct in hearing congratulations are in order?"

"What?" She asked, honestly not sure about what he was referring to. She didn't want to give anything away without knowing exactly what she was committing to.

"Art mentioned you're taking over for Kensington, permanently-"

"Lance I wasn't expecting anyone until-" Ron said, but stopped when he saw Liv. "Oh, Wellwood. Uh, come in."

"Thanks," she said, following him through the door and into the real heart of the department. She knew Cian worked somewhere, but really hadn't spent enough time up there to know. Ron had a small office... a closet, really, with a desk in it. Liv didn't even have enough room to sit down.

"You're taking over for Kensington permanently?" He asked, a confused look on his face.

"Yeah," she said, waving her hand like it wasn't important. "Not til next year though, but that's not what I came her for. I visited him this morning and he looks really good, he's much more present and holding conversations."

"Oh, good!" He said. "Hermione was going to spend the morning with him, I can't miss much time today but I'm going to visit on my lunch."

"He wanted me to get as much work done as possible," she explained. "I just wanted to come deliver the news in person, I don't know who reads your memos."

"Just me," he said. "I'm not that important up here."

She chuckled. "I'm going to cut out early so I can meet with his Healers, I didn't get to this morning. His left side is still really weak, I'm sure it's going to drive him nuts, but I want to get him out of there as soon as we can."

"Believe me," Ron said. "As soon as he can be up and about and express his opinions, the nurses are going to be begging you to take him home."

She laughed, because she knew it was true. He wouldn't stay down for long. "Anyways, I know you have a meeting so I'll get out of here-"

"Thanks, Liv," he said. "I'm really glad he has you fighting for him."

She couldn't help but smile, but was entirely unsure of how to respond beyond that. "I'll see you later."

She had reached peak levels of exhaustion. Three days of intense stress had used up every ounce of strength she had, and Harry being well enough to satisfy her left her relieved enough to succumb to exhaustion. When she stopped by Mungo's in the afternoon, she was intercepted by a Healer before she made it to his room.

"Do you have a moment to talk?" The curly haired young woman who had been attending to him asked.

"Of course," she said, stepping with the young woman. They sat down in a small alcove near his room.

"He's making fantastic strides," she said. "You must be very happy."

"I am very relieved."

"Mentally... he's doing exceptionally. I'm sure you've noticed some fog, but it's absolutely normal. The sedatives can take another day or two to fully leave his systems. By Saturday, I expect his mind to be working as well as it was Monday morning."

"That's excellent news," Liv agreed. "What about physically?"

"Well... that's going to take longer."

"Have you had a chance to examine him?"

"Preliminarily. His right side is very strong, I would say nearly unaffected. His left side... well, his leg can't bear as much weight as normal."

"Was he up today?" She asked, curiously.

"We got him up briefly this afternoon for some evaluations, but he can't quite walk yet. One foot doesn't seem to want to cooperate. That's okay- it certainly doesn't mean he won't regain use of it. But we have established a baseline now."

"I've noticed his hand doesn't seem to be working as expected either..."

"That's correct," she said. "His foot can bear some weight. He can stand with support, with a walker, eventually a cane. However, he hasn't had luck getting his arm moving- yet. We have many avenues to explore, magical and Muggle, and I have lots of hope he will regain use of it. But I absolutely cannot give you a timeline on when."

It was a lot of news for her, and she sat there absorbing it all. For as much hope as she was given, a small part of her hesitated. She was curious if there would ever be Sunday afternoon hikes in their future, or if she'd feel him reach around her during sex with both arms to hug her tight to his body.

"Okay," Liv said, after a few moments' thought. She would need to put on a very brave face for him. "When can we get him home?"

"I thought you might ask. I think it's going to be sometime next week. Tuesday or Wednesday, likely."

Liv couldn't keep the groan in. This meant she was finally tasked with dealing with the upcoming weekend and how it wouldn't be what Teddy wanted it to be, which she had been avoiding for days. "If that's what's best for him."

"I really think it would benefit him to stay here, regain his strength, and perhaps make some headway on his mobility."

She nodded. "Okay then. I would like to be kept fully up to date on his status, I'll be in and out of the ward all day. And please let me know what I need to do to get the house ready for him to come home."

"Absolutely. Over the weekend, the three of us can get together and begin to discuss what the transition will look like."

Liv nodded, and decided she needed a few minutes to process all that information before discussing it with Harry.

So, she headed to the cafeteria. She was thirsty, and the hospital felt unnaturally cold. She settled on a mug of tea, hoping it would soothe her weary body.

"Liv?"

She instinctively turned to the sound of her name, not pausing to first consider who had called out to her. Ames stood there, looking at her blankly.

For a moment, she was too shocked to even regret turning around. He looked... better. He was clean shaven, his hair had recently been cut, and he looked to have lost a few pounds since she last saw him. But seeing him there, when she'd least been expecting it, left her a little stunned.

"Er, hi," she managed, after a moment too long. Using a wooden stick, she fished her tea bag out of the cup of hot water, desperate to keep her hands busy. The silence between them was a little awkward, and she didn't want it to intensify.

"You look like you saw a ghost," he said, moving in and cupping her shoulder with the palm of his hand. Before she could even consciously consider how to react, she shrugged him off.

But then, feeling the internal pressure, and not desperately not wanting to make a scene, she shrugged, trying to play it off nonchalant while her heart beat rapidly in her chest. "I wasn't expecting to see you there is all. What are you doing here, anyways?"

"Anders' wife gave birth last night," he said. She'd completely forgotten his brother's wife was even expecting.

"Well, congratulations, Uncle Ames," she said, snapping the cover on her tea and walking towards the witch running the cash register.

"What, uh, are you doing here?" he asked, his hand finding its way to the hair on the back of his head. She recognized it for exactly what it was: an old nervous habit. It was hard for her to look at him, to be this close to him, to smell his familiar cologne and not be firmly transported back in time. It made her chest tighten and her stomach hurt. At such a close distance, she couldn't separate him from his illness. What part of Ames was a terrible partner, and what part was desperately in need of help? She didn't know, and wasn't sure what to attribute to how poorly he'd treated her.

"They have the best tea in London, haven't you heard?" she quipped.

He chuckled nervously, but followed her as she paid for her tea, her shaking hands obvious as she dug through her change purse.

"Seriously…" he said, nudging her again

"My boyfriend's on the fourth floor," she said, trying not to dwell on how weird that was to say to him. For as long as she'd known Ames, boyfriend meant, well, Ames.

"Spell damage?"

"Mmhm," she said, taking the receipt from the old witch's hand and shoving it into her pocket. The cafeteria in front of them was mostly empty. An older couple sat at one table, though their food had long since been eaten. Two workers cleaned tables and swept the floor in the opposite corner of the giant room.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ames said, and she could hear the genuinity in his voice. "I hope he's okay."

"Thanks," she said, eyes cast downward. She was having trouble looking at him. "They think he'll recover alright."

"Good," he said, nodding. "Simon had said you looked…"

He trailed off, and suddenly she didn't have a hard time looking him in the eye. The way he paused, and opened his hand as if he were grasping for a word, she knew Ames was replaying their conversation in his head and looking for a suitable replacement.

"Fat?"

The way he opened his mouth but didn't say anything confirmed her suspicion. "Well-"

"It's okay," she said, looking down and examining her body for a moment. She couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all, and knew Simon had a strong preference for waif-like women. She had gained weight, but not in a bad way. It was just the kind of weight that one gains when they replace their dinners of cigarettes and alcohol with dinners of actual food. "I've gained weight. He's a good cook."

"He said you looked happy," he said, ignoring her interjection.

"That too," she said, softly. She blew the steam off her tea, grateful for something to do with her hands.

"Are you happy?" he asked, earnestly. His brown eyes met hers, and briefly, she could see the man she had originally fallen in love with.

"I am, Ames," she said, nodding.

He nodded, looking unsure of how to react. "You deserve it, Liv."

"How are you doing?" she asked, reluctantly.

"Haven't had a drink since Simon kindly forced me into rehab," he said, fidgeting with his hands.

"I'm glad someone was able to."

He nodded. "Me too."

A beat passed between them. She was ready to return to Harry, but she could see all over Ames' face that he had things he wanted to say to her that he was still trying to figure out how to verbalize. She gave him some time to put words together.

"I didn't mean for things to go like that," he said. "I was such a prat to you, actually, prat doesn't even begin to cover it, and I'm really sorry."

"I know you are," she said. She wasn't ready to accept his apology, or forgive him, and didn't know she ever would be, but she appreciated hearing it nonetheless. In the past, she would've probably felt inclined to squeeze his arm, or show affection and approval in some tangible way, but her hands stayed clasped firmly together on the tea in front of her.

"It's hard to imagine you with someone else," he said. She knew, from her years of knowing Ames, and the tone of his voice, that he was thinking out loud more than anything. "It just feels so soon."

"I didn't intend to," she admitted. "But life can't always be planned, sometimes things just happen even when the timing is wonky."

"Who is it, anyways?" he asked, full of gentle curiosity. "Simon wouldn't tell me."

Liv considered the answer for a moment. It wasn't something she necessarily was confident sharing. It wasn't really any of his business. She took a few strides in the direction of the lift, deciding she was ready to move on from the conversation. He followed. "Potter."

Ames' reaction caused Liv's eyes to widen as he burst into a deep laughter. "Well, shit, Liv."

She wasn't sure if it was a good kind of laughter or the kind of laughter that fills the space where otherwise tears might be. She was speechless, and sighed in the absence of knowing what else to say. He seemed to suddenly realize his reaction stunned her, and that he needed to say something with more words. "Y'know, I can see that, actually."

"It's worked well for us so far," she said. She turned a corner and saw the lift in sight, perfectly timed to rescue her from further small talk. "Anyways, I should get back to him."

"Of course," he said. "I hope he makes a swift recovery."

"Thanks," she said, nodding and stepping into the waiting lift.

"Be well, Liv," he said, "Yeah?"

As the doors closed, she nodded and murmured, "Yeah."

Author's Note: A lot of people messaged wanting more closure to Ames' story line, so I hope this satisfies that Otherwise, we're not too far off from the end, just a few more chapters! Let me know what you think of the story and if there's anything you'd love to see before the end. Thanks, as always, to potter-reading-coastie.