Amelia Bones arrived without ceremony.
But her arrival was announced by nothing short of fireworks, as her spell had catapulted the unawares Sirius into the Stadium rafters.
She almost appeared out of no where, with the perfect timing to encounter a sentence uttered that would surely provoke her ire—yellow robes immaculate, hair pulled back with military severity, wand resting loosely in her right hand like an extension of her arm rather than a tool.
Even the few Arcanum sell-wands, and Aurors who were in the area quickly left after giving a simple gesture of departure in respect to the Madame
Cassius who was still simply just a thirteen year old boy could only deploy his innate cuteness to act as innocent as possible in the face of this overwhelming foe he felt deep within his bones he stood no chance against right now.
So that's Amelia Bones.
In the books, she had always been a footnote until she wasn't.
A senior Ministry figure.
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
A woman with a spine of adamant who had refused to bend to Dumbledore's soft compromises—or Voldemort's terror.
Dismissed quietly, by a minister growing more and more paranoid by the minute.
Then murdered loudly.
An obstacle removed, and a valuable life reaped before it could stand against the resurging dark lord's rise.
Cassius watched her with the careful, predatory curiosity of someone who knew the future—and delighted in the possibility of rewriting it.
Then she spoke.
"Black."
Not loud.
Not sharp.
Just… precise.
Sirius, who had been mid-smug-retort only moments earlier, now groggily replied while still hanging like a kite stuck in a tree.
"Yes, Bones?" he said lightly, too lightly, turning with an exaggerated grin that fooled absolutely no one.
Her gaze swept him from head to toe.
Lingering.
Judging.
"I see you still havent bothered to grow up at all, even with your time spent in Azkaban?" She replied her voice dripping with displeasure over his previous choice of words.
Cassius's lips twitched.
"Oh, don't mind him, Miss Bones" Cassius cut in smoothly, stepping half a pace forward. "He does stuff like this all the time, i swear it's a symptom of something worse, and i've often advised we get him checked out at St. Mungo's"
Sirius's head snapped toward him. "Oi—!"
Cassius continued, unfazed. "After spending a decade in Azkaban the poor old man, has suffered greatly bother physically, emotionally, and spiritually, i almost think his mind regressed to when he was a child as some sort of coping mechanism."
Amelia's eyebrow rose—just slightly though a smile threatened to tear its way across her mouth as well.
"Oh?"
Cassius nodded solemnly. "He hasn't even managed to find a woman to settle down with, almost as if he was a teenager thinking they had the muggle diesese cooties. i swear, at his age. Tragic, really. One worries he'll wander into danger zones unsupervised."
Sirius spluttered. "I am standing right here!"
Having managed to extricate himself from the stands and return to solid ground.
Amelia didn't look at him.
Her eyes stayed on Cassius, assessing, weighing.
"And you think I should… what?" she asked dryly. "Handle him with care?"
"Yes," Cassius said earnestly. "Like a malfunctioning magical tool, though of course you could always take the commission on yourself to try and mend the poor fool?"
Sirius opened his mouth to unleash a tirade—
"Black," Amelia said, still not looking at him, "another word and you'll be reassigned to the sanitation squad."
Silence.
Sirius's jaw clicked shut.
Cassius nearly purred.
Oh this is magnificent.
This woman was on the level, she was easily following the narrative he was drawing and reveling in the discomfort that it brought to that old horn dog Sirius.
No doubt once upon a time she had, had a crush on the mangy mutt, perhaps even still does.
Amelia finally turned her gaze to Sirius, arms folding.
"You were never good at following instructions. Even in school."
Sirius blinked. "We did not go to school together."
She tilted her head. "You were a year below me."
Pause.
Realization dawned.
"…You're that Bones?" Sirius said slowly. "The one who hexed Mulciber through a staircase?"
"He fell," Amelia replied evenly. "Repeatedly."
Cassius watched from the sidelines, eyes gleaming, as the dynamic unfolded with exquisite inevitability.
Sirius after having been forced to witness their back and forth could not contain himself and launched into a full length conversation that looked more like an old couple squabbling over where to eat dinner.
Without the repeated provocation he'd have just run away, but with it, his pride demanded satisfaction and he'd try to get it by hell or high-water.
But the comparison was uneven.
Sirius: loud, brilliant, reckless, all charm and chaos.
Amelia: unyielding, controlled, steel-willed, immune to nonsense.
Their conversation moved beyond the school days into more recent years, but it always circled back to one unavoidable fact.
"You always were uptight," Sirius scoffed.
"And you always confuse irresponsibility for freedom," Amelia shot back.
"I fought a war!"
"So did I," she said coolly. "I just didn't lose my wand every third Tuesday."
Cassius folded his arms, internally scribbling romantic tension in bold ink.
Merlin above, it's like watching a prophecy form.
Like watching when children get into fights because the boy cannot come to terms with his feelings so instead he winds up bullying the girl just to get her attention.
But through it all, it was plain as day the two were enjoying themselves and their playful little banter.
"Now now Sirius, enough from you, i did come with something meaningful to say afterall." Amelia forcefully ended their conversation leaving no grounds for rebuttle.
Her face hardened once more, as she began to speak.
"As i'm sure you're aware we are expecting an incident to occur during this tournament and we expect to get our galleon's worth for your support."
"Don't gotta worry about that, last i checked we had twice as many wands present than your own?" Sirius quipped back.
"Even still make sure none of your people get caught up in the festivities and forget that they are here to do a job.
Amelia turned to leave, then paused.
"Black," she said. "Try not to embarrass yourself."
He grinned. "No promises."
She walked away, robes snapping like a banner of command.
Cassius watched her go, mind already racing ahead—calculating, adjusting, rewriting fate with quiet glee.
Behind him, Sirius muttered, "I hate it when competent women intimidate me."
Cassius didn't look away.
"I give it six months," he said thoughtfully.
Sirius frowned. "Six months to what?"
Cassius smiled.
"Never mind," he replied. "You'll see."