in my veins

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The dining table in our kitchen had not been used for dining in months

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The dining table in our kitchen had not been used for dining in months.

We had not had a nice sit down dinner with everyone since Hope's passing, and if everyone were to come over, it was generally for takeout which was eaten on the living room floor as some sort of movie played in the background.

The dining table in the kitchen, however, was used to hold the newspapers and mail that flocked in daily and endlessly.

It was getting a bit ridiculous, and Lily was growing increasingly annoyed with the mess, but it would never end until Remus and I found jobs. 

"We can support you," James always said. "You don't need to go to work."

But it would never sit right with me, or Remus for that matter, if we were to live off of James's gold.

So we subscribed to every newspaper and sorted through every job search ad.

But then Hope's death led us each into our own spiral.

And then things picked up with the Order.

And then we nearly broke up.

And then we were sent on a mission.

And then Theresa died.

And so the papers became an afterthought and they piled up along the dining table in the kitchen amongst the insurmountable supply of letters.

But, though she never explicitly said it, Lily was growing increasingly annoyed with the mess. So Remus and I decided to finally sort through the papers and put some real effort into finding jobs.

As soon as we began, however, I realized that the real reason we had been putting it off for so long was not because we were busy or grieving. It was because there were no decent jobs fit for a mermaid or a werewolf.

"Maybe I could apply to be a seer," I suggested jokingly. "I was really good at Divination."

Remus snorted from across the table, not looking up from his paper.

"You told me my tea leaves meant I would die before we graduated and then cried about it for two days."

"I was on my period, okay?"

"Gross!" Cried James, who was seated beside Remus and had offered to help. "Why do girls feel the need to talk about that stuff?"

"Jimmy, in the nicest way possible, you're literally a five-year-old."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"What about an assassin?" Remus interjected. "They might actually like the fact that I'm a werewolf."

"I don't see why you don't just apply to be Aurors," James said, his eyes glazing emptily over his paper. My eyes lifted to meet Remus's across the table but neither of us spoke.

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