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Stephen let himself into his office once the taping was over, wanting nothing more than to collapse behind his desk and stay there through the weekend, only to find Amy already sitting in his chair and Paul inspecting some of the newly-framed portraits of Stephen lining the wall behind her. At the sight of the surprise intruders, Stephen’s inner Veela reared up and hissed, only to fall back at Stephen’s mental rebuke of Down, Sweetness, down! They’re our FRIENDS!
“I’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be an anti-Apparition ward on the whole building,” Stephen said out loud as he closed and locked the door behind him.
Amy shrugged. “Not anymore, there isn’t. Don’t look at me—Paul took care of it.”
“Crap job, by the way,” Paul called, having moved onto Stephen’s bookshelf and starting to toy with one of the Emmys on display there. “Whatever you paid them, it wasn’t worth it if I can shatter the whole thing in under five minutes.”
“Gee, thanks for the respect of my personal property.” Stephen rescued his Emmy before Paul could shatter that, too, and set it down carefully on his desk before perching himself on one corner. “So what can I do for you two? Surely you didn’t have Paul pulverize my wards just for idle chitchat.”
“Maybe I did, and don’t call me Shirley,” Amy fired back, eliciting a snigger from Paul. “Seriously, though. Stephen, we’ve been worried about you. Very worried.”
“Worried? What’s there to worry about?” Stephen gestured expansively. “I’m fine, never felt better. Happy now?”
“Then why’ve you been using a glamour charm for the past week?” Paul challenged.
Stephen forced a fake laugh. “Glamour?” he lied. “What glamour?”
“The one you use to hide how big your hips are.” Amy rolled her eyes. “The one on your face, doofus, don’t try to play innocent with us.”
“You know we’d never buy it, anyway,” Paul added. “You always were a shit actor.”
“Now that was just uncalled for.” Stephen slowly crossed and uncrossed his legs, trying to buy himself time before the inevitable confession. “How obvious is it?”
“Oh, only someone who knows you like their own shadow would be able to tell the difference.” Paul waved a hand dismissively. “Basically, just us.”
“And unless you’ve already forgotten,” Amy cut in, “Metamorphmagi can identify glamours from a mile away with their eyes closed, much less when they’re watching you on television every night. So, spill. Whatcha hiding?”
Stephen sighed and, with a wave of his hand across his face, dissolved the long-lasting glamour. It had been a small and simple one, but it had been enough to hide the growing dark shadows under his eyes, his ashen complexion, and his general skeletal appearance as he slowly lost appetite day by day. The only thing that hadn’t changed over time had been his energy levels, though that he could attribute to downing four doses of Pepper-Up Potion over the course of the day.
“There,” he said bitterly, watching with only a little vindictive pleasure as his friends’ eyes widened. “Like what you see?”
“Christ,” Amy breathed, her hands flying over her mouth. “The fuck?”
“Stephen, y-you look—terrible,” Paul stammered. “What happened?”
“Oh, nothing!” Stephen’s voice crawled up the octave as he fought the tears threatening to break through the dam he’d so carefully built up over the past several weeks. “Nothing at all! It’s absolutely nothing when Sweetness decides to damn me to hell by mating with one of my married, straight-as-an-arrow coworkers who just so happens to be one of my closest friends!”
“Oh, sweetie.” Amy got up and walked around Stephen’s desk before pulling Stephen into a tight hug. Stephen practically dwarfed her, but still he managed to bend down enough to bury his face against her shoulder and cry like he hadn’t done since he found out his father and brothers were dead. Amy rubbed his back and held him quietly until the tears ran out and the dry sobs slowly faded away into a hiccoughing silence.
“So.” Amy raised an eyebrow at Stephen as he pulled back and started blindly groping for a Kleenex. “Have you told Steve yet?”
Stephen choked into his tissue, and Paul let out an inelegant snort. “Honey, I don’t think Steve’s the one we’re talking about here,” Paul deadpanned while Stephen tried to catch his breath.
“Paul’s right,” Stephen croaked, then blew his nose before clarifying, “It’s Jon.”
“Jon? Jon Stewart? The guy who comes before you?” Amy swatted Paul when he started sniggering again. “Shut up, the innuendo can wait ‘til later. But seriously—him?”
“Yes, him.” Stephen chucked the dirty tissue at Amy’s head, which she batted away easily. “I’m glad you have such faith in Sweetness’ choice of a mate.”
“Oh, Stephen, it’s not that—Jon seems like a perfectly nice guy!” Amy scrunched up her nose, and a second later Stephen found himself staring at a startling close-up of Jon’s face. “‘Before we go, let’s check in with our good friend, Stephen Colbert of The Colbert Report!’” she said in a reasonable approximation of Jon’s voice. “I do love watching you two toss.”
Paul was staring at Amy with a mixture of horrified fascination and awe. “I’ll never get used to her doing that.”
“You never seem to complain when we’re role-playing.” A shake of her head, and she was back to her normal Amy-face. “There, that’s better. Anyway. Stephen, I’m serious. Have you told Jon yet?”
“No.” Stephen shook his head, miserable. “I mean, he knows what I am and he knows that I’ve mated with him, after that stupid dementor attack back in September—but he’s a Muggle, Amy. He doesn’t know all the consequences of getting saddled with a part-Veela mate. I can’t just shove a decision like this on him and force him to choose between—between me and his family!”
“And why not?” Amy gently shoved Stephen’s shoulder. “Don’t you trust his judgment?”
“It’s not that...” Stephen worried at his lower lip in silence. “You both studied Magical Creatures at Salem,” he said after a moment. “What do you guys remember about Veela mating?”
“Any creature with at least a drop of Veela blood will, at some point in its life, find a suitable mate with whom it will spend the rest of its life,” Paul recited, clearly quoting directly from their old textbook. But then, he always had been the one with near-photographic memory. “The mating will occur at the whim of the inner Veela, and often the non-Veela side will not realize who their mate is until circumstances demand the Veela’s protective nature to surface. Once the mating is consummated, the Veela and its mate will love only each other for the rest of their natural lives.”
“And the Veela’s mate has a chance to accept or decline the mating within a period of thirty days,” Amy added. “But if the mate chooses to decline, or simply doesn’t choose, a normal Veela won’t suffer any negative effects, while a part-Veela experiences the Second Curse of Ondine.”
“Which is?” Stephen prompted when Amy suddenly fell silent.
“It’s the punishment for the part-Veela’s mistake,” Paul said faintly. “For choosing the wrong mate. You—you waste away, and then—your magic gets sucked out of you and—you die. Painfully.”
“Oh, Stephen.” Amy’s eyes were quickly filling with tears. “Jon wouldn’t let that happen to you, you know that!”
“And if he does, couldn’t you always turn on some of your Veela charm and convince him?” Paul suggested.
“No! That’s the whole problem!” Stephen shook his head vehemently. “If he accepts because he feels bad for me, then I’m going to feel guilty for taking him away from his family for the rest of our lives. And if he accepts just because I’ve brainwashed him, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself for that, either.” He sighed and tugged at his hair. “You know, it would be easier if I just annulled the mating myself. A lot less fuss, and since it’s the same result either way—”
“Don’t you dare, Stephen Colbert!” Amy cried, flinging her arms around Stephen. Her hair was furiously changing color, in a mad cycle from blonde to red to purple to green and back to blonde, as it liked to do whenever Amy became upset. “You are NOT giving up on us, not now, you hear me? If you’re going to give up before this fucking game’s even started, I will grudge you forever!”
“Amy’s right,” Paul said as Amy clung to Stephen’s front, their roles now reversed. “If you think we’re going to just let you give up now, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Guys...” Stephen gently pushed Amy off of him. “Look, I appreciate the support, I do. But there’s really not much I can do here—”
“Not much you can do, maybe,” Amy interrupted, crossing her arms and staring at Stephen pointedly, “but there’s a lot the two of you can do together. If you’d just get up the balls to talk to Jon about it, then perhaps the two of you can come up with something better than suicide!”
Stephen opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Oh,” was all he could say. “Well. I guess. Maybe?”
Paul chuckled and clapped Stephen on the back. “Good man,” he said approvingly. “You’ll talk to Jon, then?”
Stephen fidgeted. “I would, but I wish I knew what to say,” he admitted. “It’s not really like I can go up to him and say, ‘Hey, Jon, I think I need to take you away from your wife and kids for the rest of our lives, if that’s fine with you!’” Stephen huffed in frustration. “Honestly, I wish Sweetness would’ve just picked my wife, especially seeing as we’ve had the time to mate for the past twenty years—!”
“Oh, honey, you know that’s not how it works,” Amy clucked. “Sweetness must’ve seen something in Jon that was perfect for her—perfect for you. Jon’s meant for you, Stephen, and that’s all there is to it.”
“As for what to say,” Paul chimed in, “first try telling him the truth. From what I’ve seen, he seems like a pretty reasonable guy. I’ll bet my wand he’ll understand and do the best for both of you.”
Stephen studied his swinging feet for a long moment; when he finally looked up at his friends, there was a glint of something in his eyes—was it hope? Tears? Whatever it was, it hadn’t been there when they’d started. “Thanks, guys,” he said softly. “I really—I don’t know what I’d do without you. Both of you.”
“Aw, Stephen, don’t get sappy on us now. Save it for your mate!” Amy grinned and checked her watch. “Jesus, it’s getting late. Got a ride home?”
“Yeah, I’m driving. Evie’s probably making dinner as we speak.” Stephen leaned over and rummaged through the papers on his desk as he spoke, pausing only to stifle a yawn. Paul noticed that, and he also noticed the slight tremble to Stephen’s fingers as the other man retrieved his car keys.
“Uh-uh-uh.” Paul wandlessly Summoned the keys out of Stephen’s hand before Stephen had a chance to protest. “You are in absolutely no shape to be driving, mister. We can take care of that little chore, can’t we, Amy?”
“Of course!” Amy beamed, then grabbed Stephen by the arm and practically hauled him off of the desk and out of his office. “And you’re going to be taking a nap on the way back, mister, even if I have to put a Sleeping Charm on you. Ooh, I cannot wait to taste some of Evie’s delicious cooking again!”
“As long as I don’t have to sit across from you and the kids. If I have to watch you change your nose into a pig snout one more time...”
“You’re just jealous I’m not doing it for you!”
Stephen was only half-listening to the two of them bicker as he closed up his office for the weekend. For the first time in weeks, Sweetness had fallen blissfully silent; and Stephen allowed himself to push any thoughts of Jon into the back of his mind while he got his phone out to text Evie, letting her know that they’d have two extra guests for dinner if she didn’t mind setting up the places.
Stephen grinned to himself. Life actually wasn’t so bad when he had Amy and Paul to give him a helping hand.
“Hey, slowpoke!” Amy’s voice snapped Stephen out of his reverie, and he looked up to find both her and Paul waiting for him down the corridor. “You coming?”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Stephen said, and he tucked away his phone before running to catch up to the two best friends anyone could ever have.