I got bored at work so I decided to update! I hope you guys like it! I'm excited for where this story is headed (even though I'm kinda winging it as of right now!) Let me know what y'all think! I love reading your comments!

Ellison walked down a sidewalk in East London, the sunny sky above, a stark contrast to the bitter air that stung her cheeks. She had left her flat that morning fully intent on returning to Saint Mungo's, but instead, had found herself on the opposite side of town.

Today was supposed to be her first day back at work, and though she was glad Ella was well enough now to stay with her Gran, Ellison had been too preoccupied to think about the prospect of returning to her job.

Ever since Ella's discharge from the hospital, thoughts of Tom had crept back into Ellison's mind. It had been nearly two weeks since they had last seen each other, and a part of her felt guilty for not reaching out sooner, though she wasn't sure what she would've said if she had.

If she were honest, she still wasn't sure what she wanted from Tom, or if she wanted anything at all. She had responsibilities ... something too easily forgotten when she was with him. Ella's sickness has placed things back in perspective though, and she damn sure wasn't going to lose sight of it again.

She walked along the familiar sidewalk, staring out at the same street she had gazed down at from the window of Tom's flat. She was getting close now. Continuing down the street, she stopped as she came to a familiar red brick building. She turned down the alleyway parallel to the flat, stopping in front of the bare wall at the back of the alley.

Ellison rapped against the brick where she knew the entry to the flat stood. Instantly, as though someone had already known she was there, a shabby, green door appeared, opening wide. Ellison looked down, her eyes falling on Beasley the house elf.

"M-Ms. Ellison," Beasley stuttered, his wide, buggy eyes filling with surprise, though he looked pleased to see her.

"Hello Beasley," Ellison smiled down at the elf. "Is Tom-"

"I thought The Ministry'd be breaking down our door by now," a voice sounded, cutting her off. She looked up from Beasley just in time to see Avery round the corner into the foyer.

"Is Tom here?" She asked, her smile quickly turning into a scowl. Avery walked towards her, palming the top of Beasley's head, pushing him out of the way.

"The Dark Lord's in his study," Avery replied flatly.

"Well, can I come in then?" Ellison asked, squaring her shoulders defiantly in reply to Avery's glaring scowl. He narrowed his eyes, staring at her for a moment, before stepping aside. Gliding past him without a word, she maneuvered her way through the house. She drew in a deep breath, staring at the wide, oak door of the study, before knocking softly against the wood.

"What part of do not disturb don't you understand?" An annoyed voice called from the other side of the frame. Turning the knob with a gentle click, Ellison opened the door, her eyes falling on the top of Tom's head. He was bent over, his dark wavy hair obscuring his eyes, which were glued to the book sitting on the desk in front of him.

"I take it this is a bad time?" She called from the doorway. Tom instantly looked up, his eyes widening in surprise. 

"Ellison," he said, gaining composure over his expression after a few seconds, his features settling back into their usual collectedness. "You came back."

"Of course I did," she shrugged, taking a step inside as she closed the door. "I gave you my word."

"I was beginning to think you'd gone back on that word of yours," Tom spoke matter-of-factly.

"Have I ever?" Ellison asked, raising an eyebrow. She walked towards him, propping herself up on the edge of the desk, leaning back slightly, bracing her weight against her hands.

"How is Ella?" Tom relied, leaning back in his chair to look at her properly.

"Much better," Ellison nodded. "She's back to staying with my mum, now that she's got her strength up, so I can get back to work."

"Yet you're here, all the way on the other side of town, instead," Top replied questioningly.

"That's actually," Ellison began, pushing herself off the desk, "What I came here to talk to you about." Tom raised an eyebrow, watching as Ellison walked over to the end table at the center of the room, and grabbed the Fire Whiskey bottle along with two glasses.

Uncorking the bottle, she placed the glasses on the desk. "The way I see it," she began, pouring each of them a drink, "You need my help."

"Oh, do I?" Tom smirked in amusement.

"Yes, you do," Ellison retorted, sliding one of the glasses towards him, before taking a sip from her own. "Your line of work isn't particularly the ... safest," she continued. "And I don't suppose you can just walk into Saint Mungo's with an injury like Lestrange's ... that is, without raising questions."

"Your point?" Tom asked, eyeing her with more interest than before.

"I could be your personal healer," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Personal healer?" Tom raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," she pressed on, ignoring Tom's patronizing smirk. "I'd make potions ... wellness tonics, things like that. And, when the time arose, attend to more ... serious injuries. In return, my family would stay safe, and I'd go home to my children every night. Calla, and Ella have already lost their dad, they won't lose their mother too."

Tom studied her for a moment, considering her words. "You've thought about this quite a bit, haven't you?" She nodded in reply, though in all actuality the idea had struck her only a few minutes ago. " You wouldn't be paid like you are at Saint Mungo's," he spoke after a brief pause, taking a swig from his glass.

"I didn't go back to work for the money," she retorted. "Amos left us plenty of gold to live on," she added, ignoring Tom's look of annoyance at the sound of her late husband's name.

"Then why did you?"

"To keep busy mostly," she shrugged. "And because I like helping people."

"And you know the kind of people you'll be helping here?" Tom asked, giving her a skeptical look.

"I never cared what someone I was taking care of had done ... why would I start now?" She replied matter-of-factly. "What?" She asked when Tom's smirk widened, her tone a bit more indignant than before.

Tom chuckled, shaking his head as he took another sip from his glass. "You can't save every poor soul who crosses your path..."

"I can try."

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