Eagles Belong Where They Can Fly

Unsurprisingly, situations had changed for the Hayes family once again. It was the late-middle of September, and although Millie had stayed on staff at Hogwarts, Keiran had not done so. He would never admit it, but he would have gone on as professor or even as Headmaster if he had been asked to. He didn't very often have a moment of being asked to do something because that person thought he had the proper skills for it. Keiran Hayes had a fair bit of ego that he couldn't quite ignore, and over the past two years, he had not been moving up or really feeling like anything he did would matter down the road. He was just surprised that Millie had not asked what has changed in him recently. Perhaps she had noticed but not asked, he mused, wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt.

So while Keiran was gone rather frequently, he had made a point of coming back in the afternoon to be with the kids while Millie taught. The only real issue? They may have fought about their issues, but never had the couple found a way to have just casual, everyday conversations with each other. Sure, niceties were exchanged. But he wasn't sure what to ask, and praise was rarely exchanged. Keiran wasn't convinced that he had ever been able to surprise or impress his wife, but now he was confident that there was little he could do to manage that. So, when the job had been offered to him, why would he have considered saying no?

The door opened, interrupting his thoughts, and Keiran finally realized he had no idea how to handle this. How to tell her what he wanted. Maybe she would just hate him and finally be through with him. She wouldn't be the first woman to decide that it needed to be done, the tossing him aside. But, maybe, she would see it as the opportunity it really was.

Instead of standing to greet her as he usually would have done, Keiran just looked over at her from the couch. The twins were tossing things around on the floor, but he had Darcie in his arms just as he always seemed to want to. There was something different this time. He had a real chance to ensure that their third child loved him in return, while he had quite unhelpfully messed up the start of his time with the others, so the protectiveness was through the roof with Darcie. Keiran wasn't sure that it was entirely fair, but he didn't understand the twins, so he had no idea where to start.

"Hey, Millie." He greeted, giving her a second to put things down and gather herself before beginning. "I have some news but I need to discuss with with you before I give my answer. I know what I want, but it never helps when we don't actually talk things out, does it?" He asked almost sadly. Shaking his head he looked down at the dark-haired little girl in his lap. Holding Darcie to him, Keiran actually pushed off of the couch to sit on the floor with the twins. "C'mere, would you? You'll maybe want to sit."

It had been an excellent morning. So much so that she felt she had finally gotten her head around that teaching lark. She’d been hesitant, especially after Keiran had expressed no desire to remain on the staff. Theodore had said nothing, merely let him go with a steady flick of his wrist. When Millie had expressed her interest in leaving, quietly a week or so later, the headmaster had said no. For a moment, she’d been utterly stunned and unsure about what to say. Then finally she had sharply asked him why not and his mild yet solemn gaze found hers.

“Have you told Keiran about what happened in London during the summer?” He’d asked, clasping his hands expectantly in his lap. She’d not answered but that was answer enough for the man, it seemed, because he went on easily. “You’re not leaving until this is dealt with and if you insist on lying to your Baldric and not facing this then I’m keeping you where I can keep an eye on you. Besides, all of your students passed. Even that idiot cousin of yours. You’re an asset.”

It turned out, she was quite a good teacher – or, at the very least, she could limp her students through the exam. Indeed, even her bone-headed cousin had passed and was taking her N.E.W.T class. She didn’t think she’d ever get over that day she’d sat in his kitchen, trying to explain to his mother that he wasn’t going to be completing his sixth year with the rest of his friends. Alas, being in charge of Gryffindor lacked its perks somewhat. With a new flock of first years, though, she was ready to get underway and having just gotten essays from her third years, she really felt as though she was in the swing again.

So it was with a spring in her step that she entered her rooms. Her rooms. Keiran had the password, not the name on the door. There was something that unsettled her about that, though she was reluctant to get to the bottom of why he’d declined the renewal of his contract. Naively, perhaps, she had supposed that he would tell her in his own time. Her long purple robes swished behind her and with a bunch of essays under her arm, her satchel hanging off of the opposite shoulder, she greeted her husband with a broad smile and a ‘hello.’

Setting her things down on the dining table which had been turned into a heaving mess of lesson plans and essays – so, it was a good thing, really, that they’d eaten on their laps lately – she took a minute to divest herself of the plum coloured outer robes before taking her hair out of its pony tail to put it back up again. It was as she was doing that, Keiran began to speak and her eyes flicked over to him, a little frown appearing between her brows at his words. Once her hair was secure she dropped her arms down and did as she was bid, moving to the sofa.

“Hi puppy,” she murmured to Bean who was snoozing quietly at his end of the sofa.

The twins exclaimed nonsense at her in an attempt to get her attention and she passed them both a grin before dropping her hand to Bean’s fur, beginning to gently run her fingers through the knots in it. Darcie, meanwhile, seemed happy enough with her cuddles. Millie was half-envious, really, but knew she’d get her snuggles later on in the day.

“Okay, shoot,” she told him, glancing over at the work that was literally piling up before her eyes.

Keiran thought he caught something strange in Millie's gaze, but he supposed that, more likely, she had had a funny sort of day. So he intended to ask, but she let him have his turn first, so it was a bit late to change tacks now. Really, there was no putting it off. It was too real now for him to pretend that he wasn't excited about it. So he turned slightly to look up at her from his spot on the floor. He felt a bit strange being down there, but he just got comfortable and acted as though there was nothing at all strange about it.

"Right, so I've been working Robert since May and all," he began, "but it was more of a... well, it was unofficial in some ways. However," Keiran continued more brightly, finding a smile without having to think about it, "there's a spot that's open, with a title and office and everything. I didn't really expect to be asked, but... This is really good, Mills."

Keiran paused, sort of nodding to himself. "But the problem... is that all of my work has to be done in London. So it doesn't make a lot of sense to stay here full time. And with you teaching, you obviously won't be able to consider moving. And I wouldn't ask that of you, anyway. So what I want to do is, I want to get a flat and be there for work. And I know that, when most people do something like this for work, it isn't sensible to make one person take care of all of the kids. So I'd really like to have Darcie with me.

"Then, when we both have time off of work, we'll actually have things to talk about. I don't say that in any sort of judgmental way, love. But we don't really have much to say. So staying here and traveling to work every day, it wouldn't make that any better." Keiran frowned, looking over at the twins. "You're better with Liam and Kelly than I am. I still have trouble understanding them. And I know that leaving won't help that. But when we get together for family things, it'll mean more. We'll be excited and interested, and hopefully supportive. There's no perfect solution to this, Millie. And I don't know how to make it easier. But this is the first thing I've been really excited about, career wise, since the start of last school year. And I was actually asked to do it, instead of just stepping up. This could be really, really good."

“Yeah, that’s great,” she agreed, raising a smile instantaneously. Something about his tone gave her pause but with half of her mind still buzzing around her curriculum for classes she wasn’t focusing in on the minute aspects of the situation. One eye was also lingering on Liam, a hair’s breath, always, from some sort of mischief.

He was only weeks away, now, from being able to walk unattended. He and his sister had perfected routes into the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom using the furniture but soon enough they’d be handfuls in their own right, running everyone who knew them ragged in a similar style to their mother and uncle once upon a time. Well, mostly their mother. There didn’t appear to be a docile Elliot in this pair.  

So, she could be accused of being distracted but she was also happy for Keiran. She had wondered after the grand plan. So here it was and the cogs were beginning to turn. She just wasn’t yet sure where the wheels were going to convey them. Only, Keiran had an answer for that, too. Her cart was being disengaged from the rest, empty weight that hers was, and her end of the doomed steamer was changing tracks – or, rather, following the same one. His was changing.

She sat back against the cushions and stared at him once he’d finished, her eyes wide and full of disbelief. Her mouth she managed to keep shut, though letting it fall agog wouldn’t have looked out of place. Her hand slipped uselessly from the dog and the one beside her squeezed at the sofa as though she feared it going belly up and depositing her and Bean on the floor behind. Her eyes skipped to their infant and she inhaled shakily through her nose.

“I don’t ….” She swallowed the breath and pursed her lips, frowning a little bit. She leaned forward and pulled her hands off, her nails snagging awkwardly at the fabric and betraying the tightness with which she’d been clutching onto the sofa. She brought her hands together in front of her face, her index fingers steepling together up under her nose. She looked at him for a long time, as though trying to work out what she’d missed. Her gaze alighted on the smallest one again, bundled up in her father’s arms, warm and oblivious.

”They threated my family. Mine. You’ve had yours to mess up plenty. I’ve not had them five minutes and someone already wants to take them away. So that’s what’s worthwhile about getting irate about you empathy-wanton bitch!”

Baldric was as sharp and as clear as day, his words rattling in her ears as damning as they had been when he’d first said them. She wondered if he was the Seer. If he’d known. If he’d always, always known. She liked that one. Empathy-wanton bitch. It was one of his better ones. Perhaps this was another example of it. Empathy-wanton. Bitch. Empathy. Wanton. Wanton, definitely wanton – and wanting of empathy. Perhaps she was.

You’ve had yours to mess up plenty.

“So,” she broached, her voice oddly controlled. “I’m not sure I really understand.” She held out her hands. “I am happy for you, really. I’m glad you’re excited about this and I am too because I know this matters and having a career that makes you want to get up in the morning is important. So, I am pleased for you but … this … whole … idea? I’m not particularly comfortable with it.” She said the last bit in a rush, wincing and enclosing her fingers hesitantly back into her palms, burying them into her lap.

“Why is the best solution to you working in London splitting up the children?” She took a breath and proceeded over her words slowly and carefully. “We’re not really most people, are we? And to be honest I’ve never actually heard of that ... I mean … they’re babies. They’re … she … Darcie … she probably won’t mind but the twins … me?” She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “I mean … they,” she gestured to the pair, “they’ve got that cool object permanence thing going on and the world is sort of beginning to get really quite interesting for them and stuff … there needs to be a routine and they’re just getting used to Darcie and it would be weird to upset the routine and …”

“I mean … they’re definitely going to … they’re going to notice that you’re gone and it’s not going to be necessarily that meaningful because … I mean,” Millie cut herself off with a groan and brought her hands up to her face, reaching up under her glasses to rub furiously at her eyes. “Can we start talking right about now, please?” She asked behind her hands as she pulled them down again. “If that’s the end goal here, aside from job fulfilment?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Then we need to talk about this.”

“I really, really do not think that splitting the three of them up is a good idea. They need to be together they’re … they’re siblings. They’re … I mean … Elliot was all I had so I … I want that for them I don’t think Darcie should be on her own. And, I guess … I mean … when are these family things even happening and … and … if you really think this is a good idea then how are they ever going to have a meaningful relationship with each other and how are you ever going to have a meaningful relationship with the twins if you only see them high days and holidays because that’s what it’ll be in the end, won’t it?” Her voice deflated completely, her shoulders sinking forward.

“Can’t someone else have them?” She asked. “My grandparents or … or … Bridget or … or ... Eli!” Millie frowned. “No not him, he’s got ten already. Theo. Theo loves kids. Esme and the twins get on great and …” She dropped her chin into her palm, knowing that listing was a fruitless endeavour. She looked at him finally, properly and steadily before quietly asking: “Is this an indirect way of saying that, actually, you don’t want to be in this anymore? Like ... like ... do I need a lawyer or ... or am I now making this about me when it’s not and actually you just want the job and ... and our baby? I don't get it, Keiran.”

Empathy-wanton bitch.

Claire.

Millie spoke, and he thought of Claire. And not in the sort of 'Gee, I wish I were with Claire right now,' sort of way. No, in the, 'Last night, I could've gone with her but we both knew we shouldn't,' sort of way. He hadn't even had to think about picking Millie over the blonde who, at the time, he didn't realize was Avery's sister. Sure, he'd considered what would have happened if he wasn't with Millie. But that was an entirely different question.

Now, though, when Millie immediately took the defensive - and not in the way he expected her to - he had a breath of wondering whether he had made the wrong decision. A decently drunk Keiran had picked his wife, but even while sober, she didn't seem intent on picking him. Surprise, surprise. It isn't like this was really anything new, was it? She didn't want him anymore, did she?

Keiran stared at her for a long time after she finished speaking, completely unable to even find the words to explain how ridiculous she sounded and how much of a villain she had just made him out to be. How she had become so easily affronted by every little thing he said still amazed him. It hadn't always been like this. They used to joke about their situation, would kiss in a barn because he wanted to hide it from her brother. Then, they were kind of the stuff of movies, in the sense that he felt younger than he was and he tried to help her feel prepared to do things she felt too young for. Somehow, they hadn't needed to try. But now, when Keiran did try, he was shoved away or shot in the face instead. He was failing to see the benefit of being the man he wanted to be. Maybe she would have preferred it if he just stayed home and did nothing all day. He would have resented the hell out of her, but he would have been something she perhaps could have wanted. Someone she might be able to express some sort of love for. He just didn't know anymore. Why would she want him to change after she had said she loved him? It was possible that she had only ever thought she loved him but never did.

That didn't make him feel any better.

When he did come up with something to say, unfortunately for Millie, he was looking right at her and speaking with what must have been his most subtly threatening tone of voice. He knew better than to raise his voice and frighten the children, but she needed to know that, on the inside, he wanted to rage at her like he never had before.

Melissa...

"Millie... I don't even know where you begin with you right now. Do you realize that, every single time I suggest any sort of change to our setup, you assume it's time to go fetch a lawyer? What the hell does that say about me if I've made you think that's the only option? I'm sitting here, explaining how this can be helpful for our relationship and you somehow twist that up into grounds for a divorce? How badly do you want one if that's all you can think about? You may as well just tell me, if that's the case.

"Second, it does not help your case that you couldn't give two shits about the fact that I'm moving out. But somehow you are convinced that a few months apart while you teach is going to ruin the kids' chances. You don't need to lie and say you don't think it's done just because you don't agree with me, you know. Besides, the sheer amount of time that we both will have to work means that we'll be passing the kids off or asking friends to watch them just like we usually would. So they won't be apart nearly as much as you're implying or assuming."

Looking down at Darcie, he wanted to just stand up and take her away right then. What was the point in arguing if he was just going to lose her, along with the other three? Keiran didn't want to be away from any of them, but he knew how hard it would be to forgive her and want to spend time with her, if he didn't have someone with him to bring him back home.

"Millie, I know I could stay here. But it would be a bunch of extra travel every day, and it would mean that my work days would seem even longer. I don't want to relive what happened last time I worked too much, do you? If so, add that to your reasons for leaving me, too, but just go ahead and tell me as much. I'm tired of having nothing to say to you. What do you expect me to talk about when you say we should talk about it right now? The whole point is that there's nothing here! Time apart would give us so much more to say. We never did the time apart and getting to know you thing. And that is probably what got us to this point, Mills. I'm going to go mad if I'm stuck in these rooms anymore, and you're going to go mad along with me once you finally notice it."

Keiran glanced down at the twins almost sadly, noting the similarities to himself within them. Darcie was much more like her father in looks, but a great deal more calm, it seemed, than either parent. Merlin, he hoped she wouldn't turn into him. Equally, though, he hoped she wouldn't turn into Millie. Neither of them were quite whole, were they? Darcie deserve a life without half as much drama as Millie's and without nearly as many questions as Keiran's.

"You know what the worst part of all this is actually? It's not that you're apparently fine with my leaving or even that you think the kids can't get along without being together every second of every day. I mean, look how that worked out for us, huh? No, it's that - two years later - you somehow don't know me at all, and you don't seem to want to. The things I do share, you ignore them or forget them. And just when I decided not to bother with the whole trying to fit in deal, because you asked me not to, you found somebody that you liked better. You haven't even noticed that I've given up on that attempt. I'm much more like the man who you first met. The one that, presumably, you didn't like since you expected me to change. You haven't even registered that change or questioned it. And - Now, when I have a chance at a job that is not only exciting but something I'll be really good at, you would literally rather divorce me than let me spend time with one of my kids."

An audible, disappointed sigh left him, and Keiran looked at Darcie once more. He almost felt sorry for involving her in this mess of a relationship, but he wouldn't have given her up for anything. "I wanted to ask you to help me pick a place so you'd know it's safe and know where to find me. But it's clear you are more interested in twisting my words, as usual, rather than accepting how helpful this situation could be. So I'll leave it up to you. You can have Darcie here with you if that's really all you want. But I can't even fathom why, after I proposed to you for real when the law broke, you still can't be bothered to try. Millie, if you refuse to let me take care of Darcie, I don't think I'll ever forgive you. I'll stop bothering too, and Merlin knows what she'll think of her mother when she finds out why I did. Don't do that to her. Or to yourself. Millie, I've been here all along, trying to understand where Missie went and why she doesn't care about me anymore. I can't sit around here and keep on like this. In those moments where she comes out, there's nobody on this planet that I could love more.

"But I miss her, and it's killing me. It's killing what we had in those days that it really worked. Why won't you just give it a try? For all I know, I'll hate being away more than I can bear, and beg you to let me come back. For all you know, you'll love being free of me and be glad I'm gone, anyways. Give it a month. After that we can re-evaluate it. And if you decide you're done with me, then I'll sign whatever you want, so long as I can have joint custody."

At some point, she’d slumped against the pillows. It was a posture that Cael had sternly warned her against as it did nothing for her shoulder. It dawned as her as soon as he began to speak that what she’d said had been wrong, on most if not all counts. Even though she’d tried to be careful and pick over her words in a way that wouldn’t hurt him, she’d done it anyway. She’d messed up. She’d actually created friction she’d perceived in the first instance when in that instance there had been none. She had caused this. And she’d not even meant it.

Vicious in both kinds, she knew exactly who she was. When she had become that woman, though, she couldn’t pinpoint. I’m sure you’ve got half an idea, kiddo. Millie glanced at the twins, wondering if in time she’d find them sat on the landing poking their heads through the bars to watch them argue just as her own mother used to. She could still remember the slap she’d gotten once and the way her mother’s nails had scratched through her cheek for listening and then for having the nerve to defend her father. She didn’t think she’d ever be like that but then she’d never thought she’d be this, either.

Millie had always said that Lavender made Seamus hate her within five years. You could tell, she used to say, from the photographs of them, though never would have admitted to it. It had always been in his body language, though. He was markedly more uncomfortable around her even and especially when they were putting on a show of affection. There was no relaxation there. It was always as though he was waiting for her to scream at him. It had been the same for their children, although to a lesser extent Elliot who had always got along with her better. None of them had loved her and she had loved none of them. Was that going to be her reality? Was she going to be hated with as much venom and vitriol as her own mother was?

“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, emerging from her reverie. Five years. At the rate she was going, she could probably go ‘home’ to Lavender and laugh humourlessly that she’d beaten her by a country mile. What an accomplishment. One she didn’t want. Ever. “I didn’t say that I wanted it,” she sighed, pushing her glasses up onto her head. “I’m sorry.” And that was it, really. There was nothing more she could say, especially as her words had gifted her with nothing but her own self-produced turmoil. And she’d hurt him. God, she’d hurt him. The words … the words would never mean enough. They didn’t mean anything, after all. Not when he wanted action.

Her fingers pulled at her neck, worrying the skin that she’d been told time and again would lose its colour if she left it alone. Instead she rubbed at it, aggravating the grooves and making them blush pink.

“Of course I care about you, Keiran. I haven’t gone anywhere … I’m not …” Millie closed her eyes and gradually found her words. “I’m not going to stop you from taking care of her. I just …” she bit her lip and shook her head. Because what was she saying really? They were just words. How could she prove either of those statements? She cared about him. She wasn’t gone. Sometimes she wanted to know herself what poltergeist was sat inside her, making her hurt and, more importantly, making her hurt him. But it wasn’t a poltergeist, was it? It was just her.

She felt as though she was suffocating. Millie reopened her eyes but couldn’t quite bring herself to look at him as shame lapped up through her.

“Whatever … whatever you need,” she murmured, looking down at her hands. “I … okay. You... you take Darcie and I'll ... I'll do ... yeah ... and then in a month ...”

Millie shook her head again and got to her feet, no longer able to stomach staying in the room. Half-panicked with nowhere, really, to go she picked the kitchen. It was clean and ready for use again whenever she didn’t go down for dinner with the other teachers. Ready for the year.

She pulled open one of the cupboards and tugged down a glass which she turned over and tried to fill with water but it slipped. The crash made her seize up and she jumped half expecting the glass to spray across the floor. Contained within the sink, it was of no consequence to her but that was what brought tears all the same.

“God, you’re pathetic, Melissa.”

Keiran didn't realize how tense he was until she spoke and his shoulders relaxed. She was agreeing? Keiran wasn't sure what to do with that information, and he didn't really understand why the kids were looking at him strangely until he noticed the fact that he was still frowning. And Millie had gotten up. It only took a moment for him to decide that, if she could agree to give him what he needed, it was his job to try and to the same for her. He could hear glasses clinking in the kitchen, and he immediately worried that she might be drinking as she had the last time they'd gone through a massive fight.

Setting Darcie in her little rocker, Keiran cast a quick charm to ensure that the twins wouldn't run into anything sharp or fall too painfully, and got up. A crash sounded in the kitchen and picked up his pace, entering the little room just in time to see her panic over what she had apparently dropped. He broke forward from the doorway, coming up alongside her and wrapping his arms fully around her.

"Okay," he began, slowly lowering them to the floor. If he had paused there to think about it, Keiran might have noticed the overwhelming sense of deja vu that surrounded the pair of them. "Okay, love. Just breathe... I'm sorry, okay? That was harsh." Keiran sighed, pressing his forehead to her temple and hoping she wouldn't shove him away. "I just want to make things better. I want me to be better.

"Just... hear me out, hmm?" he requested, leaning back for a moment and tilting his head to look at her. When he felt she might be cooled down enough to listen, he set his chin on her shoulder and went on. "This isn't the first fight we've had, obviously. And they just keep getting worse. And, I know it probably feels like the best way to fix it is to just try and be closer, to try and... cling to everything here. But it hasn't worked so far, and d'you know what? I'm excited about this," he admitted, dropping his voice to a near-whisper for that sentence.

"Just, imagine your students do something bloody hilarious. I won't have heard about it by the time you see me. Or if I get to hex someone at work for being a prick, I'll have time to cool off and find the fun in it before telling the story. We've never been good storytellers, and we've never had reason to be. But I haven't seen that fun side of us in a long time. Not unless it had to do with the kids. Y'know? And I'm not asking that we go on like this forever. But we need to find that rhythm and feel good doing it and get back to being interesting and being able to impress each other and..." He paused, shrugging slightly. "I mean, that sounds a great deal more entertaining than arguing."

“All I want,” she whispered shakily, her fingers running gently along his arm. It felt easier with the contact, with his arms around her. The air between them was a divide, like this now she felt stronger. “All I want is for you to be happy, Keiran. All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy and better and to have everything you’ve ever wanted. I just … yeah.” She nodded tiredly, leaning against him. It made the most sense to cling on for fear of loss. He was right, though. It hadn’t worked. She wanted to say that it wasn’t for lack of trying, too, but that was a lie. So much had gone one it had felt like they’d never had time to breathe and when they had they’d not used it conductively. She’d not. She didn’t know him, really. He was right. Of course he was right.

“Would you really hex someone?” She asked with a little laugh, reaching up to wipe away her tears. She reached down and covered his hand with hers. She turned her head to the side and pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling softly into him. “You’re going to be the best thing that’s happened to that place in a long time,” she murmured. “You should be excited. Ignore me, I’m a misery. But, I am going to try and be more supportive than, well, right now. Go do your thing, mister man. You’ll be brilliant.”


Stretching her arm into the air, Millie let her jumper sleeve fall back a little so she could see her watch face. She squinted at the date and sighed testily. It was tonight or bust. She wouldn’t have anything to give Michael and then Urien would find them and everything that she’d fought to protect would be at risk. Peter was nursing his sick son’s cold, however, and it meant he couldn’t go with her. It was too late, by the time she found out, to go in search of Michael. So there was one place left she wanted to chance finding someone to go with her, and it felt somewhat ironic that it was at the Ministry where she found herself.

“Keiran in?”

A pair of pale eyes peeked over the top of the latest issue of PlayWizard. Millie adjusted her stance, her hand closing tighter around the black rucksack she wore off of one shoulder. Her lips pursed as she stared at the other witch, lounging carelessly at the desk as though she was at home rather than in a government building. Millie had showed off a similar sense of leisurely abandon while sat there a few years ago but she’d never quite stooped to looking at, well, that quite as unabashedly as this witch was. Carenza seemed to catch her looking, too, because immediately Millie found herself face-to-face with ‘Miss March.’

“What’s up, female Hayes? You look like a cat burglar.” Carenza laughed, her gravelly voice echoing through the marble foyer outside of the four offices that held the four most important men in the country inside. That was a strange thought, indeed, and Millie felt a swell of pride as she cast her eyes in the direction of the door that had Keiran’s name embossed on it. The action served a few purposes – the first being that it took her eyes off of the voluptuousness that was Miss March, the second being that it allowed her to look at the door for the first time and the third being that it reminded Carenza what she wanted.

“Keiran,” Millie repeated, turning her eyes back to Carenza who had turned the page. “Is he about?”

“Yes female Hayes, Hayes is in,” Carenza replied, turning another page. “Pray tell what do you want him for? I will have no debauchery in this office.”

Millie almost choked. In fact, the sound that died in her throat sounded remarkably like it. She swallowed and shook her head, feeling her cheeks warm as Carenza’s slow smirk widened into a grin.

“Do you think Miss August is too skinny?” The magazine was flipped round and Millie flipped her head round, screwing her eyes shut. A barking laugh rose from behind the desk. “What’s the matter, love? Never seen lasses like this before? God… her tits aren’t real.” Carenaza’s face contorted into quiet wonder.

“Yes!” Millie retorted hotly. “But I don’t sit around at work looking at them! How have you not been sacked already?”

“The Minister is a soft lad,” Carenza called out as Millie sloped off towards Keiran’s door. “See you later, female Hayes!”

Millie shook her head. She was glad, in a way, when she drew up to the door. She didn’t know if she was ever going to be able to burn Miss August off of her retinas. At least once she knocked on the wood she had something else to focus on. Her hand fell to door handle and she twisted it, opening it up before stepping inside, letting it fall closed behind her. She dropped the rucksack onto the floor and she licked her lips nervously, glancing around the room.

A warmth washed over her as a familiar sense of home wrapped her up in a way that for a few moments made her feel absurd because there was no cause for it but then she realised it was him. It had always been him. The sight of him burrowing away at work, albeit now thoroughly disturbed by her presence, was a heartening one that brought a shy smile to her face.

“Hey,” she voiced, the sound carrying gently across the room.

When her gaze flicked up beyond him, she felt her feet move her away from the wall she had half plastered herself against. She drew close to the windows and peered out over London twinkling like a blanket of stars over the earth. Out there, life went on, sleepy and peaceful. She’d forgotten what it was like to be amongst the tower blocks and the tightly packed houses at night. She’d forgotten its strange beauty.

“Merlin, look at it,” she found herself whispering, her hands unconsciously coming to rest against the windows. “It’s so beautiful. How do you get any work done in here?”

She took her hands away when she realised and ducked her head embarrassedly. She reached up and rubbed at her shoulder with no idea how she was going to pose this to him. This wasn’t the sort of thing you came and asked anyone, let alone your husband. With Peter out, though, she needed a partner and it was too late now to track down Michael and pull him along. She had said she would sort it out and get her end of the bargain. She wasn’t about to go back on her word.

“How’ve you been?” She asked, coming to perch on the corner of the desk. She’d seen him rather recently. It felt silly to ask in a way but she was interested. He’d certainly been right that distance had bred something to talk about. Their days were distinct, their lives paralleled but different, and so she was truly interested in how he was and what he’d been doing.

She cast her eyes curiously over the desk and laughed. “You look busy,” she assessed as she reached over and picked up one of the quills. She sat back and began to draw her fingers along the feathers, smiling at the way the softness tickled the pads.

“I was wondering,” she hedged, glancing at him furtively. “Do you think I could borrow you tonight? If you can’t leave this, though, don’t worry about it. This is running the country stuff so it’s more important but I … I really need your help if you have some time.”

Why did she look so flustered? Keiran tried to hide any visible confusion, instead leaning back in his chair and allowing his dark gaze to follow her across the room. "Hi," he returned, a slight question of why she was there evident in his tone. He did feel a bit bad for it, but she hadn't exactly been around the office or anything, so he could admit to being surprised.

After a month of being apart, more or less, he had started to notice subtle differences. In the way she walked or the fact that, the last time she'd seen him, he had been clean-shaven, where now he let scruff cover his jaw. She was open, somehow, as she stood at the window, and he couldn't help the little smile that pulled at his lips.

"Uh, good," Keiran said with a nod, leaning forward once more to sort of close off a bit of the space between them. She was busy playing with one of the quills he had set aside in case his preferred one was being irritable, so he took a moment to tilt his head to either side and come to a conclusion about what he wanted to say. "We've got some word about people being angry over in the Order, but what can you do, y'know? So I guess we'll have to make some statement or other about it eventually," he gestured towards the page he had been marking notes on. It was a cutout of the Prophet, marking news of Audriana. Merlin, he still felt bad about his hand in all of it, and having to talk about it day in and day out did not help.

"It's hard to explain the Ministry's take on it when I had my hands in it without meaning to," he admitted, his fingers scratching through the hair at the nape of his neck. "But, really, I'm not terribly busy. Why? Are things okay?"

He frowned slightly at her question, but nodded immediately. Something was off, and not just in the usual Hayes way of being "off." She was upset, and Keiran realized now that he didn't know enough about her life anymore to explain it with facts or events he already knew and understood. To his surprise, that irritated him, and he had to pause for a second to wonder if this living apart thing would finally get on his nerves enough to admit that he missed her.

Pushing out of his chair, he came around the desk to stand in front of her, gently taking the quill from her hands. "Whatever this is... it matters a great deal, doesn't it?" He didn't have to wait for her reply to get the feeling that he really did need to be involved in this, for her sake. "Alright."

With that, he started packing his things, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye once he'd sorted himself and was good to go. "Ready, then?" He held his hand out to her as he picked up his jacket. "You can explain over some dinner, hmm?"

Millie swung her feet idly, continuing to run her fingers up and down the quill as she listened to him. Her neutral features broke into a cynical smirk when he mentioned the Order and she rolled her eyes, though at them rather than him.

“They’re always mithering about something.”

She followed his hand and frowned a little bit at the Prophet page. She glanced at him and then leaned forward to look at it properly, pushing her glasses up onto her head as she did so. She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, an interested “huh” parting her lips, and she straightened up again, her smirk deepening when he went on.

“Fingers in every pie in the bake house already, Hayes?” She teased, reaching forward with the quill to tickle underneath his nose. “You don’t hang around. Have you developed Eli’s penchant for always having pardon papers to hand ‘just in case?’” She didn’t spare the air quotes.

Wiggling her brows at him cheekily, Millie looked down. She spread her legs and reached for the drawer handle, pulling out the drawer between them. She didn’t look but made a show of doing so before closing the thing almost as quickly as she’d opened it. She crossed her legs and set down the quill, her smile growing lazy and tinging with concern as asked after her.

“Okay, yes,” she said with a shrug of her shoulder. “In a general sense, yeah. Everything’s okay. I have a House Elf now, actually, called Yeti.” She shook her head fondly. “Stupid creature. She decided one day when I went down to the kitchens to get a midnight marking snack … probably ice cream,” she lifted her eyes upwards and had a thought before nodding, conceding that it was. “She decided she wanted to stick her five eggs in, anyway. So now I’m stuck with her. That said,” Millie held up her hand and then reached to pull up her jumper and tug her pants, a shock of Gryffindor red, up over the waistband of her jeans. “She irons underwear. It’s brilliant. Socks, too.”

“But,” she drew out the vowel, rolling her lips together as she righted her clothes. She glanced at him and nodded, smiling ruefully. “Not by my own choosing, though,” she hastened to add, then she paused, blinking at him. “Alright? Just like that?” She wasn’t going to argue though. Nope. Instead she watched, semi-shocked, as he packed up and she felt a grin take hold of her when he offered his hand. She slipped their grasps together. “Ready,” she declared.

“Dinner?” She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds good to me. I might even stretch to dessert for you,” she laughed and offered him a wink before crossing the room to retrieve her bag, a spring bouncing her steps along.

When they exited the office, the PlayWizard magazine came down again, bending over at the spine.

“That was quick,” she commented. “Has it been a while, kids?” She waggled her brows at them and Millie felt her cheeks heat up, heartily wishing herself back to when they’d had dinner with Ollice and Bendric last. She much preferred being in the position of the wind up merchant.

“Sod off, Ren,” Millie decided to call out.

“Ooh, feisty. No, I’m serious though. Take time with each other. Re-acquaint yourselves with each other’s—”

A pink flash of magic was sent hurtling in Ren’s direction and she squeaked, hopping out of her chair and onto the floor just as it reached her, crashing into the painting mounted on the wall behind her desk. At first nothing happened and Millie brought her wand to her lips, puffing the pink sparks off of the end. Carenza perked up behind the desk, a smirk already on her face. Only then did the magic kick in. The painting exploded, showering pygmy puffs – of all things – down over the secretary. Some of them were already making a beeline for the deputy minister’s office, too.

Grabbing hold of Keiran’s hand, Millie pulled them out of the management offices and laughed as a shout rang out behind them, Carenza cursing one of the puffs particularly loudly for biting her, apparently. Once they were clear of everything and into the apparation area, Millie pulled Keiran close and with a crack they disappeared out of the Ministry as though they’d not even been there at all.

They landed in an alley way in Muggle London, not too far from the museums. Mentally, she immediately began to run through the timetable that Peter had given her. There was never a time when a guard wasn’t on duty. That is, apart from two hours during the evening from ten to twelve when one guard left early to go home and the other arrived an hour after him. There was time. That window was all they needed. However, it was only just gone nine which did conveniently mean time for dinner.

“I like this by the way,” she commented, grasping at his chin. “Very sexy,” she leaned up and stole a kiss before ducking away, laughing as she strode out into the lamp light of the capital’s streets.

There was an independent café down the street that had an excellent vantage point from one of the window seats. Peter recommended it to watch and to wait in. It was warm, there was food and they had decent coffee. What more could you want? They crossed the road and Millie opened the door, immediately throwing her bag down to claim the table they needed.

“The menu is limited but I’ll make it up to you at the weekend if you want. We’ve got stuff to do, though, so can I tempt you, sir, to …” she glanced over at the board. “A ham and cheese toastie and some coffee and, ooh, some cheesecake for dessert? We have time, too. A whole hour, yet. I think we could probably even fit in two cups.”