All For You - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“I really don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done,” Amelia said appreciatively.

She’d been staying with Jameson for the better of three days, but now it was time to leave.

Oddly, she felt nervous doing so. Even if Harry was certain she would be safe now, Amelia couldn’t shake the feeling of concern about returning to work and walking the streets easily, not after what had happened to her.

“There’s no need,” Jameson assured her with a smile. “I promise it has all been rectified.”

“You still haven’t told me how you did it,” Amelia pointed out.

“If I did, I expect you’d have to arrest me,” he chuckled.

Amelia had no idea what he’d done, and in truth, she knew she was probably better off for it.

She was an Auror who had to conduct herself within the letter of the law, and Jameson was something of a maverick. He was no less effective in what he did, but she had no doubt he’d probably broken a dozen laws in the process throughout his life.

“Are you still coming for Christmas?” she asked hopefully.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Harry assured her. “Go on. I would bet that your family is waiting for you.”

Amelia nodded as she approached the fireplace, still uncertain if she was ready to leave.

However, with nothing else keeping her here, she offered Harry a final smile as she threw a handful of floo powder into flames.

“See you later, Bones,” he called.

“Goodbye, Jameson.”

Stepping into the fire, she appeared in her own home a moment later and was immediately enveloped in a tight embrace by her brother.

Edgar held her tightly for several moments before releasing her.

“Well, he kept you fed,” he commented amusedly. “We’re glad to have you back.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Amelia replied, though she couldn’t deny she’d enjoyed the few days of peace that Jameson’s home provided.

“Amelia!”

The wind was almost knocked out of her as the boy nestled himself into her midriff, and Amelia gasped for air.

“I think you’re getting too big to be doing that,” she groaned. “How much are they feeding you at Hogwarts?”

Chris was now in his third year of school, and he seemed to take after Edgar more with each passing day. That wasn’t a bad thing. Edgar was a brilliant wizard in his own right and had done well for himself at school.

“Are you home for Christmas now?” Chris asked.

“She is,” Edgar said firmly. “Moody has already said you’re not to go back to work until January. He will be joining us for Christmas Day.”

It seemed that Amelia’s plan to throw herself into work had been changed. She would have to find something else to occupy her time.

“Where’s Eliza?” she asked.

“Shopping,” Edgar chuckled. “I did offer to help, but according to her, I’m more of a hindrance.”

“She’s not wrong,” Amelia snorted.

Edgar scowled at her and shook his head.

“Well, we are decorating the last tree if you want to help?”

Amelia nodded eagerly.

She loved Christmas, and decorating the four trees they had was one of her favourite parts of the holiday.

“Come on, go get your things unpacked. We will wait,” Edgar urged.

“Will you?” Amelia asked sceptically.

“Maybe.”

“You’d better,” Amelia huffed.

“Is Harry still coming?” Edgar asked with a grin.

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“No reason,” Edgar said dismissively.

“Who’s Harry?” Chris asked.

Amelia shot her older brother a glare before she left the study.

“Who’s Harry?” Chris repeated, his words falling on deaf ears.

She expected Edgar to tease her.

There wasn’t much he’d been able to torment her with over the years, and he wouldn’t miss such a rare opportunity, even if there was nothing to truly tease her about when it came to Jameson.

Not that it mattered, and though she wouldn’t deny she was looking forward to seeing him again, Amelia had no doubt the teasing would continue when he arrived.

(Break)

It had been a strange few days, to say the least.

With Yaxley and his ilk cowed, for now, and Amelia having returned home, Harry could shift his focus to the things that required his attention. Fortunately, he always ensured he kept up with marking the work of his students, and with Thomas in charge of the restaurant, he needn’t be there so often.

It still wasn’t an apt time to visit the werewolves. With the full moon coming on Boxing Day, that trip couldn’t be made until after, but there was something he could do along with completing his Christmas shopping.

As ever, he was grateful that he was not such a recognisable figure here, so his trip into Diagon Alley was unhindered by people staring or the braver ones approaching him.

As such, he’d managed to buy presents without much trouble, and as Harry made his way towards the Magical Menagerie, he shivered from the cold.

The snow had continued to fall thick and fast, blanketing London thickly.

Diagon Alley had not been spared, giving it a most festive feel.

“Ah, good morning, sir, how may I be of service to you?” the shopkeeper asked as he entered.

Harry smiled as his gaze travelled around the variety of creatures stocked here.

“Well, I do need an owl,” he replied.

As useful as sending messages via a patronus was, it wasn’t the most subtle way of communicating, and it tended to draw considerable attention to him.

“Of course,” the man replied with a nod. “Did you have a particular breed in mind?”

“No,” Harry answered, avoiding looking at the one Snowy Owl amongst the others. “What about that one?”

“Ah, she is a Great Gray,” the shopkeeper answered, putting a large leather glove on before coaxing the bird onto his hand. “She is rather feisty,” he chuckled.

The owl hooted at him and began flapping her wings, smacking the man on the back of the head.

He merely chuckled as he chided the bird.

“As you can see, she is quite the diva.”

Harry grinned at the owl and held out his hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the shopkeeper warned.

The owl cautiously stepped onto Harry’s extended arm, her amber eyes boring into his own.

For a moment, he thought she might bite him, but she decided against doing so. Instead, she began bobbing her head and flapping her wings.

“Well, she seems to like you,” the shopkeeper chuckled. “Try and give her one of these.”

Harry accepted the treat, and when he offered it to the owl, she took it, nipping his finger gently in the process.

“I’ll take her,” he declared with a smile.

He’d refrained from replacing Hedwig for more than five years now, and though he knew he would never have another owl like her, this one reminded him of her in all the best ways.

“Excellent!” the shopkeeper declared. “Will you need a cage?”

Harry shook his head.

“She won’t be kept in a cage,” he replied.

Hedwig had been confined to one during his time with the Dursleys, and Harry wouldn’t see this one suffer the same. No, he would set up a perch for her in the house, and she could come and go as she pleased.

Still, he would need to find a suitable name for her.

“Was there anything else, sir?”

“There is something, but I’m not sure I’m in the right place.”

The shopkeeper looked at him curiously.

“I have considerable land and hoped to obtain some larger animals.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking either some Thestrals or something similar.”

The shopkeeper hummed.

“For something like that, you would need to find a licenced breeder. Mind, they won’t just sell their creatures to anyone. You have to prove you have a suitable home for them and can meet their needs. Thestrals require fresh meat, an available water source, and woodland.”

“I have a woodland with a river,” Harry explained.

“Then you might be in luck,” the shopkeeper replied. “If you leave your contact information, I can pass it on to a friend of mine who breeds a variety of creatures. He comes in regularly enough, so I expect it won’t be long until he gets in touch.”

Harry nodded and wrote his name on a piece of parchment before handing it to the man.

“Ah, you must be Professor Jameson, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor,” he acknowledged. “I will pass this on to Claude when I see him.”

“Thank you,” Harry said gratefully. “How much for this one?” he asked, nodding towards the now sleeping owl.

“Three galleons.”

Handing over the fee, Harry took his leave from the shop and headed towards The Leaky Cauldron.

As much as he enjoyed having decadent meals at his whim from his own restaurant, sometimes Harry longed for the heartier food served by Tom.

Whilst there, he could ponder what he would do for his remaining days of holiday before he made his way to Canada for the remainder of it.

He would be returning to Hogwarts this evening and to the Bones’ home the next.

Amelia had insisted he didn’t miss the Christmas Eve festivities. What that entailed, Harry didn’t know, but other than with the Weasleys, he’d not experienced a truly magical Christmas.

The one he’d spent with Sirius had been marred by what had happened to Arthur in the Department of Mysteries and had been a rather depressing affair.

Since the war ended, Harry had spent Christmas alone, mostly.

He would visit Teddy and Andromeda, but the woman hadn’t had it easy since Ted and Nymphadora had been killed.

Harry had ensured she had more than enough gold to last her and his godson twice what they could ever spend in a single lifetime, but he knew that Andromeda would give every Knut to have her husband and daughter back.

Teddy was the one thing that kept her going, and she’d become fiercely protective over the boy.

Harry couldn’t blame her. She’d lost everything during Voldemort’s last rise to power, and her grandson was all she had left.

Shaking his head of his maudlin thoughts, Harry entered the pub and took a seat before perusing the menu.

“What can I get for you today, young man?” Tom asked with a toothy grin.

“I’ll have the steak and ale pie,” Harry decided.

“An excellent choice,” Tom replied, noting down his order. “And to drink?”

“A Butterbeer will be fine.”

With a nod, Tom left Harry to his thoughts once more, and he absentmindedly considered the past few days.

He’d given Amelia her space to come to terms with what had happened to her, but they shared their meals together and had walked the length and breadth of his property several times.

Harry learned that she was just as restless as him and preferred to keep her mind occupied.

Staying in his home without the option of leaving had not been easy for her, and Harry suspected Amelia was pleased to have her freedom again.

Thinking of what had happened to the woman caused a frown to crease his brow.

Perhaps it would’ve been easier to kill Yaxley and the others, though that would’ve only served to draw unwanted attention.

No, he believed he had frightened the man enough that he needn’t be concerned.

Nonetheless, he would be keeping a very close eye on those he knew would one day become Tom’s followers.

A very close eye indeed.

(Break)

“Well, what did you find, Moody?” Grimm demanded as Alastor entered his office.

“Nothing, sir.”

“Nothing?”

Alastor could only shrug in response.

A report of considerable magical activity had been detected outside of Blackburn, and yet, no trace of anything had been found other than some ash mixed in with the dirt.

“So, whatever happened was covered up,” Grimm sighed.

Alastor nodded.

“It seems that way, sir. I find it odd that the report came in, and there was nothing to be found,” he said thoughtfully. “Unless what happened was hidden by whatever protections were in place. The alert we received was probably the defences being collapsed.”

“Do you really think that?”

“Aye, I do,” Moody replied. “Our sensors aren’t very good at picking up defences. It’s every British person’s right to defend the home as they see fit, so it was never something focused on when installing the sensors around the country.”

Grimm frowned as he nodded.

“Very well. Any word from Bones?”

Alastor shook his head.

“I saw her the night she was retrieved, and Jameson insists she will need some time to recover up here,” he explained, tapping the side of his head. “I agree, sir. She’s tough, but something like that doesn’t just go away.”

“That is why I granted her the leave,” Grimm sighed. “Well, for now, I want you to keep working together. The new recruit can be partnered with Perkins, at least until Bones is well enough to go it alone.”

“Aye, sir,” Alastor replied. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

Grimm grunted.

“Go on, get yourself home. You’re back on duty on Boxing Day.”

“Merry Christmas, Sir.”

Grimm chuckled humourlessly.

“My mother-in-law has currently parked her fat, sweaty arse on my favourite chair and is doing her best impression of a pig with its face in a troth. I keep telling myself that it will get better, but I think the old bag will outlive me out of spite. I don’t know, Moody, but I do know I won’t be having a merry anything, not with her there.”

“You have my condolences, sir,” Alastor said amusedly as he left his superior’s office.

Grimm liked to complain about his wife and her mother.

It seemed to have become something of a hobby, and the man had become rather adept at it.

Still, there was nothing to be done for him.

Alastor now had the joy of a rare couple of days off duty, and he intended to enjoy them, even if Grimm couldn’t.

(Break)

“I’ve noticed I’ve been seeing you more dressed up recently,” Edgar said nonchalantly, though Amelia did not miss the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Could this have something to do with a certain Professor?”

She glared at her brother in the mirror, and he grinned in response.

“I’m sure you’re a glutton for punishment, Edgar,” Eliza sighed. “Leave Amelia alone. If she wants to impress Professor Jameson, that’s her business. Is he handsome?” she asked Amelia.

She rolled her eyes, and Eliza offered her a grin.

“Never mind, I’m sure I’ll see for myself soon enough.”

“It’s not like that,” Amelia denied.

Eliza hummed, evidently not believing her.

Amelia and Jameson were little more than passing acquaintances who she liked to think had started a budding friendship.

They’d been through too much together to not have grown close in some ways. He had saved her life, after all.

Twice at the last count.

“What is it like then?” Eliza asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

“It’s not like anything,” Amelia huffed. “He’s helped me a few times, and I’ve helped him.”

“So, you’re friends.”

Amelia nodded.

“I think so.”

“What do you mean?” Eliza questioned with a frown.

Amelia released a deep breath.

“When he came to get me from where I was, it was the first time I’d seen him in months,” she explained. “I know he works at Hogwarts, but after the Greyback thing, he made it clear he didn’t want to see me.”

“But then he came to your rescue, and you stayed with him for a few days,” Eliza pointed out. “How was that?”

“It was nice,” Amelia admitted. “We went for walks and ate together. I don’t know, he’s just so aloof. He said he doesn’t date witches.”

“Doesn’t date witches?”

Amelia shrugged.

“He said he dated two, and they were just horrible experiences. Besides, none of that matters. He doesn’t have time to date, and nor do I.”

“Are you just using that as an excuse?”

“It’s not an excuse.”

Eliza hummed again.

“Of course not,” she said with a smirk. “You look great, by the way,” she added as Edgar returned with the first of their guests in tow.

“Look what I found lurking,” he chuckled, gesturing to Moody.

“You’ve made an effort, lass,” her partner grumbled. “There was no need to do that on my account.”

“If any of you make another comment, I swear I will start cursing people,” Amelia warned.

Alastor chuckled heartily as he held up a hand.

“I’m just winding you up,” he placated. “You look better, Bones. The rest is doing you good, but I wouldn’t get used to it. Grimm has partnered us back together for a while. He’s given Perkins my rookie, so, I suppose I’m stuck with you a bit longer.”

Amelia beamed happily at the thought of continuing to work with Alastor.

“Is that so bad?”

“Aye, I thought I’d be rid of you,” Alastor quipped. “Now, I don’t get much time off. Where’s the sherry?”

“I’ve already poured one for you,” Edgar informed the man, handing Moody a glass. “Ah, I expect that will be our final guest. Amelia, do you need a moment to finish preparing yourself?”

Edgar laughed, fleeing the room as Amelia drew her wand.

He took too much joy in teasing her, though she supposed she’d never given him much to do so over the years.

Nonetheless, it was no excuse to try to make up for it now.

Especially when there was nothing to tease her about.

“You can be quiet too,” she warned the grinning Moody, who had situated himself in an armchair by the fire.

“I didn’t say a word, lass,” he defended.

“You didn’t need to, Amelia grumbled, smiling unwittingly as Jameson entered the room with her brother.

“Of course, I didn’t,” Moody snorted.

Amelia ignored the barb and straightened her dress.

“Harry Jameson, this is my wife, Lady Eliza Bones,” Edgar introduced.

Amelia quirked an eyebrow as Jameson took Eliza’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it in the customary pureblood way.

“It is a pleasure, Lady Bones,” he offered warmly. “Moody, how’s it going?”

“Living the dream, lad,” Alastor replied, raising his glass of sherry, eliciting a chuckle from Harry.

“And you have already met my little sister, Amelia, many times,” Edgar continued.

“You don’t need to introduce us, Ed,” Amelia sighed. “Hello, Jameson.”

“Bones,” Harry acknowledged. “Managing to stay out of trouble?”

“Only because you’ve not been here,” Amelia returned.

“Oh, straight for the jugular,” Jameson snorted.

“Aye, she’s vicious that one,” Alastor commented.

“I think I’m beginning to learn that,” Harry replied amusedly. “You look beautiful,” he offered to Amelia.

The compliment caught her off guard, and Amelia did her utmost not to blush, especially because Jameson was making that stupid smile he did when he knew he’d gotten to her.

“What’s your poison, Harry?” Edgar asked, leading him towards the table where several bottles were laid out.

“He is handsome, isn’t he?” Eliza murmured with a grin. “You could get lost in those eyes.”

Amelia frowned at the woman.

“I won’t deny he’s good-looking,” she muttered.

“Not that you could,” Eliza replied. “How you lit up when he came in told me everything I needed to know.”

“I didn’t light up,” Amelia denied.

“Keep telling yourself that, but I’d sort that blush out if I were you.”

Before Amelia could respond, Eliza took her by the arm and led her towards the drinks table.

“What are you having?” she asked.

“Something strong. I think I’ll need it to get through this.”

Amelia accepted a glass of amber liquid and began listening to the conversation Harry, Edgar, and Alastor were sharing.

“How is it teaching?” Edgar asked.

“It’s fun,” Harry answered. “I suppose I have Moody to thank for it. He’s the reason Dumbledore came and offered me the job.”

“Aye, I mentioned you to him,” Alastor confirmed. “After what you did to that lot in the pub that night, I thought you’d have a thing or two to share. I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

“You weren’t,” Amelia interjected. “I know you can’t really say much, but how did you get so good?”

“I got tired of being lucky,” Harry sighed. “I found myself in a lot of trouble when I was younger, so I decided to dedicate myself to my magic.”

“You’re self-taught?” Moody asked.

“Mostly,” Harry answered. “I’ve been lucky enough to meet some great wizards and witches who’ve helped me, but I started off with a set of books and went from there.”

“Well, I don’t doubt you, Jameson,” Alastor offered sincerely. “You helped Bones out, and she’s one of the best I’ve come across. If I’ve not already told you, I’m grateful for your help.”

“As am I,” Edgar added.

“Well, I did what I could,” Harry said dismissively, and Amelia got the impression he didn’t know how to handle praise. “Anyway, it’s supposed to be Christmas. Let’s not dwell on the less pleasant incidents.”

“Hear, hear,” Alastor agreed.

Harry seemed to relax as the topic of conversation shifted to more mundane things, and Amelia simply sipped her drink, occasionally adding her input but mostly listening to the three men discuss all manner of things, from business to work as an Auror and the Wizengamot.

“Ah, dinner is ready,” Edgar declared as the bell sounded in the room. “Eliza, would you send for Chris?”

The woman nodded and left the room to do so, followed by the rest of them, who made their way to the dining room.

“How many Christmas trees do you have?” Harry asked amusedly.

“We always have four,” Amelia answered. “It’s tradition.”

He nodded and held out a chair for her at the table before taking the one next to her.

Amelia frowned at her brother as she realised he’d made name cards and had put them together purposely despite being able to seat at least a dozen.

“Professor Jameson?”

Chris had arrived with Eliza, and the boy was staring wide-eyed at Harry, surprised by his presence.

“Bones,” Jameson greeted.

Amelia was taken aback as her little brother positively beamed at the man.

“What are you doing here, Professor?”

“I came to check and make sure you’ve done your homework. What was it again, three feet on vampires?” he asked, offering Amelia a discreet wink.

“Three feet?” Chris gasped. “I thought it was only one!”

“Oh dear,” Jameson tutted. “I suppose that will be detention for you.”

Chris looked horrified, and Amelia swatted Harry’s arm.

“Really, Jameson? At Christmas.”

Chris breathed a sigh of relief as he took the seat on the other side of Harry.

“You’re not funny, Professor,” he grumbled when he realised it was a joke. “I’ve already done the homework.”

“Of course you have,” Harry sighed. “You’re too much like your sister…which isn’t a bad thing,” he added when Amelia shot him a glare. “Just not as scary.”

“Amelia isn’t scary,” Chris denied.

“Maybe not to you, Bones,” Jameson snorted. “To us regular people, she’s scary.”

“And to me,” Edgar interjected. “Come on, everyone, help yourselves. There’s plenty of food.”

They did so, and Amelia watched as Chris engaged Harry in conversation.

It was odd to see the boy so animated as he spoke.

Mostly, he was quiet, but with Harry, he seemed to come out of his shell.

“You should try the potatoes, Professor,” he urged. “Eliza makes the best ones.”

“Does she?” Jameson asked interestedly. “In that case, maybe I’ll keep the bowl for myself.”

“Then you won’t get any pork,” Amelia broke in.

Jameson narrowed his eyes at her.

“That does look like good pork,” he observed, eyeing the plate next to her.

“If you want some of this, you’d better hand over the potatoes.”

Whilst he wasn’t paying attention, Chris had already helped himself to the bowl Jameson held, much to Amelia’s amusement.

“I’ll give you the potatoes when you give me the pork.”

“No deal, Jameson,” Amelia returned.

“At the same time?”

“The same time,” Amelia agreed. “No tricks,” she warned.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Moody growled. “I’m hungry too.”

With a flick of his wand, Amelia found herself holding the potatoes and Jameson the pork. The man grinned victoriously, then frowned when he realised he hadn’t taken any of the former for himself.

Amelia rolled her eyes at him.

“Here,” she huffed, adding some to his plate. “Better?”

Jameson nodded satisfactorily.

“Much better,” he agreed, digging into his meal.

Amelia could only shake her head.

They ate mostly in silence, with Chris being the one to lead the conversation by asking Harry questions, mostly pertaining to his lessons.

“Is it true you showed the fourth years the Unforgivable Curses?” he asked.

Jameson nodded.

“They are something every witch and wizard should be aware of,” he explained. “I’m sure you’re aware that using any on another person will land you a one-way ticket to Azkaban.”

Chris nodded.

“Why are they so bad?”

“It’s not the spells themselves, but mostly the intent behind them,” Jameson answered. “The Killing Curse speaks for itself, but I would say the least worrying.”

“Dying is better than the others?”

Harry nodded.

“It is quick and painless,” he pointed out. “With the Imperius Curse, you can control people and have them do whatever you like. Many people have become unwilling killers or done things they never would because of it.”

“That sounds horrible,” Chris declared.

“It is,” Harry agreed, “and the Cruciatus Curse can cause permanent damage to the mind if someone is subjected to it for too long. What makes them so dangerous is that none of them can be blocked with a magical shield. Anyway, I don’t think this is suitable dinner talk.”

Chris nodded.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Edgar announced as he stood. “To everyone here. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the rest of the table echoed.

“Are you alright, Bones?” Harry asked.

Amelia nodded.

The mention of the Cruciatus Curse had reminded her of what had happened whilst she was held captive, and though she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, she had no doubt Jameson had recognised the symptoms of the after-effects when he’d rescued her.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

He nodded.

“You will be,” he murmured, giving her hand a squeeze under the table.

Somehow, she believed him, and though her ordeal continued to haunt her, Amelia got the impression he was speaking from experience.

“Have you…?” she asked.

“More times than I care to count,” he answered simply before returning to his meal.

His own expression had darkened considerably, and Amelia returned the gesture, squeezing his hand comfortingly, the two of them understanding the damage such a thing could do to someone.

(Break)

He rested the tips of his fingers together as he gazed into the fire, more than a little disturbed by what had been bothering him the past couple of days.

Whoever it was who had interfered with his plan, whether knowingly or not, was troubling the Dark Lord.

Forgetting the fact they had single-handedly killed around twenty people, simply breaching the defences deeply enough that they were not detected immediately, was quite the feat.

He’d inspected the trace of magic left behind, and no stone had been left unturned when it came to casting the magic. However, the perpetrator had extensive knowledge of such measures and had navigated them expertly.

The mere suggestion that it could’ve been Dumbledore of all people who carried out what had been done to the kidnappers was laughable, though the Dark Lord could scarcely deny that whoever had was undoubtedly a gifted and dangerous wizard.

It was troubling, indeed, and the more he pondered it, the more troubling it became.

What’s more, is that the magic of the individual was not familiar to him, but in an odd way, it was at the same time.

It was dark and foreboding, and yet, there was a glimmer of something quite brilliantly pure within it.

Just a glimmer.

Still, it was disturbing.

Leaning back in his chair, the Dark Lord nodded to himself.

He must be cautious in his approach, and although there was no fathomable way the perpetrator could be aware of him and his intention, it would not do to forget what had happened.

No, it would be both negligent and foolish to do so.

How the house had been found and all that occurred after would remain a mystery, but to Lord Voldemort, it would serve as a reminder of what it was he was up against.

Even so, he would not be deterred from his course of action.

Britain would be brought under his heel and would tremble with fear at the mere mention of his name.

That day was not today, but it would come in the end, and when he was ready to claim it, there was none who could hope to stop him; not Dumbledore, not the Ministry of Magic, nor any phantom would-be hero lurking in the shadows.

(Break)

“He doesn’t look too good, does he?” Harry whispered to Amelia as he nodded to the pale Moody.

“He drank too much sherry,” she replied amusedly.

“So, he’s nursing quite the hangover?”

“I’d say so,” Amelia sighed. “Maybe I should get him something to settle his stomach.”

“Or we should remind him that he shouldn’t drink so much,” Harry suggested. “Let him suffer through it. Besides, I have a plan.”

“Jameson, why is it when you’re up to something, you always look gleeful?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Harry replied airily, aiming his wand at one of the empty boxes and summoning it discreetly towards him.

He didn’t allow Amelia to see what he was doing, but when he was done, he returned it back under the tree.

“What did you do?” Amelia asked.

“You’ll see,” Harry replied with a grin.

Despite being rudely awoken by an excited Amelia even before the sun had risen, he was in good spirits, though not as much as his host, whom he’d never seen this side to.

Amelia Bones had always been rather focused, serious, and at times, intense. In the comfort of her own home, however, and surrounded by the festivities, she was relaxed and at ease.

“He looks pleased,” she commented, nodding towards her younger brother.

Chris was tearing through his pile of presents with gusto, much to the amusement of Eliza and Edgar.

“You all make it so special for him,” Harry replied.

Amelia nodded.

“He was just a baby when it happened and didn’t know them the way we did. Edgar raised him and then Eliza when they met. They both sacrificed so much.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, they’ve done a fine job with him,” Harry said sincerely.

Amelia smiled and continued to watch Chris opening his presents.

“Here, Alastor, this one’s for you,” Edgar called, sliding the box Harry had tampered with towards the Auror.

He fought the urge to smirk as Moody fumbled with the bow, and Amelia shook her head.

“It’s light,” Moody commented as he lifted the lid, only to splutter as a jet of water gushed out of the box and sent him sprawling with a scream of surprise.

Chris laughed uproariously at the sodden man, and Harry pretended not to notice what had happened, though he was shaking with amusement.

“Got him,” he whispered.

Amelia huffed but couldn’t hide her grin as she helped the shell-shocked Alastor to his feet.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Moody growled.

“A pick-me-up,” Harry answered.

Moody’s mouth fell agape as he glared at him and the others as they fought to hide their own amusement.

“I’ll have you, Jameson,” he vowed.

It was difficult to take him seriously when he resembled a wet dog, and Harry took mercy on him, drying the man with a wave of his wand.

“Here,” he sighed, offering him his real present.

Moody eyed the wrapped package suspiciously and shook it before removing the lid.

A boyish grin broke out as he removed the book within, and he began to chuckle.

“Where did you get this, lad?” he asked.

“Just something I had in my collection,” Harry replied.

Moody nodded as he thumbed through the volume, his smile widening.

“Oh, I can’t wait to use some of these,” he murmured. “They’re not strictly legal, but they’re not specifically illegal either. Thanks, Jameson.”

He returned to his chair and began studying the book.

“I hope you know what you’ve unleashed on the world,” Amelia muttered.

“Jealous?” Harry asked.

“Not at all,” Amelia returned.

Harry chuckled as the grin Moody wore did not shift.

He’d gifted the man a particularly rare book of curses used to apprehend and restrain people.

A century prior, the spells it contained had been used by the Aurors readily but had fallen out of favour due to their cruel nature.

Harry had come across a dozen or so copies in the Department of Mysteries archives gathering dust.

At the time, he’d been at odds with the Ministry and Gringotts and had decided to sell a few copies if necessary.

It hadn’t been, and he had three remaining in his collection.

“Oh, wow, thank you, Professor!” Chris gushed as he unwrapped his own gift.

“You did register your interest in joining the team,” Harry pointed out.

Chris nodded as he admired the Beater’s bat.

Although it paled in comparison to the ones available when Harry had played, it was still the top of the line here and a fine bat.

Chris gave it a couple of practice swings and nodded satisfactorily.

“Did you get me a Beater’s bat?” Amelia asked with a grin.

“Is that what you wanted?”

“It could be useful,” Amelia mused aloud.

“Well, then, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Harry sighed as he handed her a gift.

Amelia opened it, and her gaze flitted between Harry and the gift.

“Jameson, this must’ve cost you a fortune,” she whispered as she removed the bracelet.

“More in time than anything else,” Harry said dismissively. “The magic only works when you use certain elements together. It just so happens those elements are quite expensive.”

“What magic?” Amelia asked curiously.

“Put it on,” Harry urged.

She did so, and the silvery chain vanished, along with the stones that adorned it.

“Where did it go?” Amelia asked.

“You have to want to see it,” Harry explained.

Amelia frowned, but it appeared once more.

“It will stay invisible and undetectable until you have need of it,” Harry explained. “It works as a portkey and as a locator when you activate it. It means that any time you need it, you can be found. If you use it as a portkey, it will take you straight to my home and alert me.”

“That’s… I don’t know what to say,” Amelia said, in awe at his creation. “How did you make this?”

“I know things,” Harry replied with a grin.

Amelia rolled her eyes at him.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said sincerely. “The present I got for you is nothing compared to this.”

He accepted the two gifts she handed him, and he chuckled as he opened the first.

“Payback?” he asked amusedly.

Amelia nodded.

“I thought I’d see how you like it when people make assumptions,” she huffed.

Harry grinned as he held up the white underpants.

“Not bad, Bones,” he praised. “At least they’re clean.”

Amelia nudged him with her elbow as she laughed.

“Now open your real present.”

He did so and found a watch carefully nestled inside.

“It was one of my father’s favourite watches,” Amelia said fondly.

Harry shook his head.

“I can’t take this,” he denied.

“Yes, you can,” Amelia insisted, closing his hand over it. “Edgar and I agreed you should have it. You’ve done so much for us, and it would be a shame for it to just gather dust with the others. It’s not worth much, but it would mean a lot to us if you’d accept it.”

“You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

“No.”

Harry chuckled as he took the watch out of the box.

The leather strap showed signs of wear, and the casing was scratched, the markings showing how much it had been worn by the late Lord Bones.

“I’ll take good care of it,” Harry promised.

Amelia smiled, though she scowled as Edgar stepped between them and picked up the white underpants.

“Bloody hell, Jameson, you don’t wear these, do you?”

“They are a joke present, idiot,” Amelia huffed.

“You brought him pants as a joke?” Edgar asked confusedly. “Anyway, we will have breakfast soon. Oh, before I forget, we are having a get-together for New Year’s Eve. We’d love for you to come, Harry.”

He wrapped his arm around Eliza’s shoulder as she joined them.

Harry offered the man an apologetic look.

“Unfortunately, I’ll be abroad on business.”

“Restaurant business, or the other kind of business?” Amelia asked.

“A little of both,” Harry answered. “Worried about me, Bones?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Harry chuckled as he shook his head.

“Apologies, if it weren’t important, I’d delay it.”

“No, no, I understand,” Edgar assured him. “I know what it’s like running businesses. Well, when you’re back, you’re more than welcome to join us for dinner. Maybe Moody will be sober enough to come.”

Alastor was currently sleeping in his chair, nursing a bottle of sherry he’d evidently received.

“There’s always one,” Harry snorted. “Would you like some help with breakfast?”

Edgar nodded.

“We can leave this lot to clean the mess up,” he chuckled, leading Harry from the room to the sound of the protesting Amelia and Eliza.

(Break)

“That’s quite some bracelet.”

Amelia was startled from her observations of the craftmanship. Jameson had done an excellent job, and though she could not identify everything that was in it, she could feel his cool magic gently pulsing.

“It is,” she agreed.

“You’re disappointed he can’t make it for New Year.”

“I’m not.”

Eliza shot her a pointed look.

“You did a terrible job at hiding it and the fact that you’re worried about him going away on business,” she added. “I don’t know what it is he does, Amelia, but he found you when the Aurors couldn’t. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t,” Amelia murmured.

“You like him.”

“What?”

Eliza released a deep sigh.

“Are you really going to deny it?”

“It’s not like that,” Amelia replied. “I don’t think it is.”

“So, you’re unsure?”

Amelia shrugged.

“How could I know if I like him for who he is or if it is just because of all the things he’s done for me?” She asked. “He saved my life, more than once. I can’t even put into words how grateful I am for that, but that already complicates things.”

“Well, what about the other times when your life isn’t in danger?”

Amelia frowned thoughtfully.

“He’s quiet, but he makes me laugh a lot,” she answered. “He has these rare moments when he relaxes, and I get to see the real him. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” Eliza replied. “He strikes me as someone who hasn’t had an easy life, so it’s understandable that he’s guarded.”

Amelia nodded.

She wouldn’t profess to know much about Jameson, but what she did know spoke of a life of trial and tribulation.

“He hasn’t had it easy,” she murmured as the memory of him telling her about witnessing the murder of his mother surfaced.

“Then it seems to me that it will just take time to get past that guard so you can get to know him.”

“If he lets me,” Amelia murmured.

“Come on, Bones!” Jameson called from the doorway. “Breakfast is ready.”

Eliza gave her an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder and headed towards the door.

“What about Alastor?” Amelia asked.

The man was snoring in his chair, and someone had put a hat from a cracker on his head.

“Are you going to wake him?”

Amelia shook her head and followed the other woman from the room, gasping as a wave of magic washed over her.

Her eyes widened at the sight of Eliza sporting a large red nose and antlers and realising she too had fallen victim to the prank, Amelia growled at the laughing Edgar and Harry.

“Oh, I’m going to kill your brother,” Eliza declared.

She sprinted after the man drawing her wand, and Edgar fled.

“Where do you think you’re going, Jameson?” Amelia called after Harry as he, too, ran. “Jameson, get back here!”

His laughter rang out around the house, and Amelia continued to chase the man, firing spells whenever she caught sight of him.