Indestructible

Jeezus Christ, you two look like you're eating each others faces.

The two older-looking Hogwarts students that Jack had spent the last fifteen minutes didn't seem to take breathers as they sat there, their saliva and bacteria swapping at the mouth in a grotesque fashion apparently known as kissing. Jack used to relish the thought of doing that to a girl, maybe going beyond that stage. But now, he was 18, a fully responsible adult, able to do whatever he pleased, and he didn't feel like doing anything. It had already been four months since he graduated from Hogwarts, and the new students already seemed to be coming this year. He wouldn't deny it, Jack was a bit jealous of them.

He already missed getting in trouble with the teachers, although, his final year at Hogwarts, he didn't really remember much of any punishments sent his way. He had become pretty quiet the last few years of his life. Jack wasn't as into causing peoples misery as he used to be. Now, he's been a lot more quiet, a lot nicer. Why, though, was hard to guess. It might have something to do with his constant fights with his mom. Or maybe it was his Step-Dads recent behavior towards him. Or it was just an assortment of not very dandy things that have happened to him recently, now clogging his fun arteries.

He took a finishing swig from his Butterbeer before setting the third empty glass back on the table. Jack had never been too fond of the taste of Firewhiskey, and if he were to start working next week Monday, he didn't want to start drinking now and go into his new job completely drunk off his ass.

Jacks mind wandered to his current life. He lived by himself in a beaten down apartment in the Leaky Cauldron, but at least he had received a job as a Dragon Keeper, and who knew where that would take him. At least it'd be exciting, and he might get a cool scar. Or maybe a tattoo. Jack has been thinking about getting a tattoo for a while, he just didn't know what.

Amelia Lyons was not prone to drinking. In general, she thought it made people do things they otherwise wouldn’t do, and for good reason. On the list of things Amelia hated, losing control of a situation was right up near the top, and alcohol was the quickest and most voluntary way to facilitate the loss of one’s faculties.

But despite all this, today, Amelia Lyons was making an exception.

It had taken Amelia all of an hour to put her hair back to normal after one of her tutoring students’ spell to turn his own hair from blond to brown had gone terribly wrong. Instead of changing the color on his own head, the boy had done as he always did and royally screwed up, only this time, it was at the expense of Amelia’s long, previously strawberry blond locks. Not only did he manage to turn them completely grey, but her hair was also three inches shorter and crimped in such a way that she looked like she had just stepped off the set of an 80s movie. Not her best look.

After a day like this one, all Amelia wanted was to be alone, but unfortunately for her, she hadn’t yet found a place of her own since her illness a few months ago had robbed her of the headmistress position and the living quarters that came with it. She had been living with her parents since getting out of the hospital, and being there was nearly as tiring as tutoring the bratty offspring of high wizarding society. Her father was too busy with his work to talk with her and Amelia only wished her mother was too busy to talk to her – Antoinette seemed to make all too much time to talk at Amelia, giving her the growing list of things she needed to change in order to attract a suitable husband and proclaim her own rightful place in the social hierarchy.

Now that was a speech she could stand to miss.

After apparating herself to Hogsmeade, Amelia slipped quickly inside The Three Broomsticks, which was pretty crowded for a Wednesday, but that made it easier for Amelia to blend into the crowd and avoid notice. She headed for the far side of the bar where there were several empty seats in a row, which would help her avoid the obligatory chit-chat with complete strangers.

Sliding into her seat, Amelia crossed her legs neatly beneath her skirt, letting the heels of her shoes catch on the lower runs of her barstool. It only took a moment for the bartender to head her direction, the middle-aged man leering at her slightly, but Amelia cut him off with a curt drink order before he could make any advances.

“Firewhiskey. Neat,” she said, setting the sickles on the counter to let him know this would be a business exchange and nothing more.

“A fire whiskey for a fiery woman,” the man said, giving a wink as he brushed an invisible bit of something off his colossal gut and turned to fetch her drink.

I’ll show him fiery if he makes any more comments… Amelia thought to herself, closing her eyes to try to push away the world around her. Didn’t anyone ever get to be alone anymore?

Jack grunted, rubbing his eyes, roughly with the palms of his hands. Those three glasses of Butterbeer did absolutely nothing to him, except maybe get his taste buds excited. He was hoping for a little bit more, maybe he would wake up a little bit from them? But alas, it was just a childs drink, and held no such ingredients to help one wake up. For that, he'd have to order something special.

But that required to much work, so Jack left himself with his three empty glasses.

As the door to The Three Broomsticks opened, Jack looked up. His eyes stared at the lady that waked in, not really expecting much out of it, and for a second, he registered nothing. Then, like a slap in the face, it hit him who just walked in. Was it really the dreaded lady? Jack couldn't even remember the last time he had confronted Amelia. Maybe fifth year? He couldn't remember. It probably ended in hell for one of them.

Jack looked at her, looking all nice and prissy, then took a look at himself, his chin pressed against his chest as he took a look at his wrinkled, messy, striped blue and red flannel shirt, and his cargo shorts, that were dotted with undistinguishable black spots on the front. He had to admit, he looked pretty good looking in these. Well, he always looked good looking, but that was beside the point.

He took a deep breath, his eyes closed, a whole scenario of him approaching Amelia, she saying something witty, him retorting an ultra-cool response, and Amelia getting flustered or something because of his cleverness. Because Jack is pretty clever. Or was. Or is.

Bloodly hell, maybe she won't notice me.

Jack sunk back into his seat, the table he sat at pushed back into the corner of the room, so hopefully it was the least visible area she'd be able to see. Hopefully she got blind in some freak accident and couldn't see in this direction.

Jack was one of the regulars at the Three Broomsticks bar - she was sort of a regular at any bar within a twenty mile radius of her workplace or home. The Three Broomsticks was not a favorite as it was lively and full of great company, which was (in Jack's opinion) a fine example of the worst sort of drinking spot. Jack was not a friendly drinker, nor was she a lively one anymore. When Nemo had been her drinking buddy, she had been a downright giddy drinker. They would sing, dance, make new friends, and run about like hooligans. Before and after Nemo, however, Jack had remained a solitary drinker, one who drank for herself and not for society. 

But there were always those rare exceptions of people who could tempt her out of the solitude of drinking. It was strange how she had chosen the Three Broomsticks despite her better judgement, but she had walked into the bar and had settled there like dust, her hand resting on the rim of a glass of Scotch. For a long time, she stared forward, not bothering to look at her surroundings. The girl once plagued with paranoia, unable to enter a room without looking at every patron and every exit, really found herself not caring what those around her would do.

But finally, she was tempted by that all-too-human force of curiosity and, as weak as it was, it still managed to lead her to glance around and check out her surroundings. Some other regulars that she found bounced between bars to get a fix; the friendly waitresses; the cheeky pair of bartenders; some students enjoying the last days of summer; and the usual colorful mix of other. But one face caught her eye, for it was someone she didn't think she had ever run into at a bar. 

Jack stood, her knapsack clinging to her shoulders as her fingers clung to her glass. She took another drink and walked towards Amelia Lyons, curiously trying to place the last meeting the two girls had found themselves having. Right, the hospital. So, she was out and looked alive and... tired. The woman looked a bit run down, something very contrary to what the girl had always tried to project. Amelia had always been very sharp, and she had always seemed casually alert. But Jack was beginning to think that she and Amelia had began at opposite ends of the spectrum and were slowly but surely meeting halfway.

"Amelia," Jack said, not fully smiling but able to say the name with the pleasure of acquaintance. She sat next to Amelia, for who had times for manners where there was drinks to be drank, and set her glass down. "It's been awhile. How have you been? I'm glad to see you out of Mungo's."

No matter what she thought about his manners, the bartender was good at his job, and her whiskey was sitting in front of her in short order. Amelia immediately picked up the glass and took a heavy drink, relishing in the way the alcohol made her throat burn for a few seconds. She wasn’t here to get too carried away, but the feeling was a nice change.

There were so few things these days that made her feel anything different than the day that came before. She was in a rut and without any real goal she was working toward. Yes, she tutored students and went to her parents’ dinner parties and started each day with a long run… but that was just it. There was nothing bigger that she was doing – just the day, to day, to day. She was doing it well, but that wasn’t enough. She needed something more, but she didn’t know what that should be.

When she had first gotten out of St. Mungo’s, she had looked into whether or not she could get a job at Hogwarts again. That was the place she had always felt most secure. She had been impressive there, received praise for her academic prowess and been chosen as Headmistress. But when she had inquired after a position, she was unsurprised to found that the school had moved on without her during her absence. All the positions were filled, so the only place Amelia had ever known was no longer an option.

At first, this had left Amelia at a loss for what to do next, until she started thinking about what she might do with the opportunity to start over. Once, when she was talking to a career counselor, Amelia had mentioned wanting to work for the ministry as an Unspeakable – be a code breaker, or a wizard tracker. Although the thought had terrified her, it had simultaneously excited her. But her parents had quickly squashed that idea as being unbecoming of someone of her status. Those people were unknowns; nothing special would ever become of her with such a position.

So she had taken a different path. But she was given a second chance to choose what she wanted. To try again.

And what did she do with it?

She let her mother manipulate her into doing what was expected. Yet again.

So for now, she was tutoring, and frustrated.

This might take more than one whiskey… Amelia fumed, swirling the amber colored liquid around her glass as she ruminated on her current situation for what seemed like the 100th time this week.

At the sound of her own name, though, Amelia’s self-pitying train of thought was broken, and by a welcome interruption for a change. She looked up from her glass to find a familiar redhead taking a seat at the barstool next to her and offered the start to a conversation. Jack was probably one of the only people Amelia could think of that she could honestly say she liked, which had changed considerably since the two of them had first met. Although they were a terribly unlikely pair, Amelia had a great deal of respect for Jack, which made up for their more-than-slightly discrepant personality traits.

“It has been a while, Jacquellene,” Amelia said, returning the same smile of familiarity that Jack had offered her. “And I’m certainly glad to be out of St. Mungo’s. One can only eat so much flavorless mush before they start to long for something with a bit more of a bite,” she said, gesturing to the whiskey in front of her.

“I’ve been… keeping busy, I guess,” Amelia said, figuring this was as true a statement as any. She was busy with tutoring, but it ended up being nothing more than busy work.

“But how have you been?” the former Ravenclaw asked, shifting the attention off herself before she fell back into the trap of self-pity. “I remember last time we spoke you weren’t in the best of situations,” Amelia said, adjusting her tone to match the sensitivity of the topic, “Did you manage to work things out with your roommate’s situation?”

Amelia realized (too late, as usual) that this was the type of question that one generally saved for later in the conversation, after the usual pleasantries had been exchanged. But social graces weren’t always Amelia’s strong suit, and one of the things she liked most about Jack was her ability to get straight to the point. It was obvious that both Amelia and Jack knew about that situation because Jack had told Amelia about it forthright. To ignore it in favor of banal chit-chat would to do a disservice to both of them.

Jack smiled as Amelia greeted her, glad to see that her presence was not unwanted. When you spent most of your school years getting underneath someone's skin, you began to pick up on when they wanted you gone. Fortunately, since their graduation, the two redheads had only seemed more and more pleased to interact with each other. It really begged the questions - did they grow into more similar traits, or had they always been somewhat similar and had never noticed. Jack could not begin to answer such a complicated question - not when there was Scotch nearby. 

"It's really good to see you out," Jack said, in response to Mungo's. "It didn't seem right to see you restrained to those terribly sterile beds. You seem much more at home doing pretty much anything else." Well, with a few exceptions she knew all too well, but Amelia had too much of a moving mind to be forced out of action by disease. The woman always seemed like she had a million things she ought to be doing, and laying around waiting to get better definitely wasn't one of them.

Amelia told her she had been keeping busy and Jack smiled. "That's much more fitting I think. Much more." She grinned.

Oh. Yes. That was right. The last time Jack had seen Amelia, Jack was on the mad hunt to rescue Nemo. That was back before she was in the Order. Back before she had the Dark Mark branded on her to save Nemo. Back before she had disobeyed orders, and Matt had taken the fall. Back before she had to send the man she had loved away without a memory of her in his head, memories removed be her own hand. A lot had changed, and she knew she could not tell Amelia most of the story. People couldn't know, because Nemo's 'kidnapping' was still under investigation. 

"I..." she paused. "I'm better now. We never were able to recover him, and it was a rough time. I moved into a new place with someone I found in need of a flatmate, and then my niece was sent to live with me. She's really helped out - she's the cleverest person I've ever met, and she's six years old." Jack smiled, taking another drink. "And a Hogwarts boy has been living with us, because he was thrown out and came across my path, and then, not a month later, a cousin of mine came out of the woodworks with no place to go, so you could say I've been keeping busy too." Se laughed, trying to get on these happy topics of family and friends, rather than think of Nemo. "Kids are... different. But some of them will blow your mind. They're pretty amazing, the ones living with me."

Jack watched as Amelia had sat down, and then his eyes drifted to the door as it opened once more, and another familiar face entered the fray. Jack sucked in his breath as the other 'friend' walked up to Amelia, spoke, and sat down next to her, and they hit it off right off the bat.

Oh shit, double trouble.

Jack sunk a bit deeper into his seat, praying silently that neither of them would see him. Not only would it be a complete waste of time talking to people that didn't like him in the past, but he just wasn't in the mood to talk. Both of them were probably doing great things by now, while Jack had barely done other than eat Cheetos and watch tv in Muggle Malls.

Of course, with what little money had, he had rented an apartment in the Leakey Cauldron, but that hardly amounted up to anything. He needed to find something cool to do, something noteworthy, to tell them, if the worst-case scenario of them approaching him happened. But, hopefully, they'd both stay on their own, and he would try to avoid staring at them, and keep to himself, because people sucked.

Amelia could see the hesitation written across Jack’s face when Amelia asked about her roommate. That conversation in St. Mungo’s hadn’t been easy for Jack, and Amelia hadn’t been able to help her in the slightest. It was frustrating for Amelia to want to help but have absolutely nothing to contribute- it made her feel like she couldn’t give Jack what she needed.

But that was likely nothing compared to Jack’s frustration at the situation, Amelia knew. She tried to offer a smile to Jack even now, but it ended up looking forced. She dropped it.

When Jack’s response came, Amelia was glad she was no longer trying to offer a comforting smile, because there was nothing to smile about in Jack’s response to her question. She said she was better, but Amelia had a hard time believing she could have recovered so quickly from losing someone so close to her. Jack was different from Amelia in that she was really and truly connected to people in her life. Maybe not many people, but she loved more deeply than Amelia did. It was a little bit embarrassing to think that Amelia felt that way about… no one. What did that say about her?

But Jack didn’t linger on the subject, instead moving on to her current living situation, and Amelia couldn’t help but raise her eyes at her friend as the list of people living with Jack got longer and longer. Jack had always seemed to Amelia to be a bit of a kid herself; not that she was immature, but rather than she had held onto the love of chaos that children tend to grow out of as they become adults. She seemed to be genuine when she praised her new “roommates” though, and Amelia smiled as she laughed a bit at this, thinking how very differently she herself would react if she had three children living with her.

“You have been busy, then!” Amelia said between laughing, her mind still trying to wrap itself around the idea of Jack being the head of a household of five, “That was awfully generous of you, to be taking in so many people. I can’t imagine handling that many kids.”

Kids weren’t exactly a specialty of Amelia’s. Interacting with children meant softening her usually brisk demeanor and entering a world of pretend and mischief, things Amelia wasn’t ever very good at. Some part of Amelia suspected that since her childhood had been cut short by high parental expectations, she now didn’t know how to interact with children who were still a part of the world she had left too early.

“What do you… do with them?” Amelia asked genuinely. It wasn’t meant to be an insult – she simply didn’t know the first thing about being the adult figure in a child’s life, “I mean… for fun. Or whatever,” Amelia clarified, blushing slightly at her own question. Jack was probably going to tease her for a month over this question.