Emma Potter; Going to War

56: Won't, Won't, WON'T

[A/N] Tried online art for the first time, I tried making Emma; I gave up on the face. 

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My brother  was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in achair beside our bedroom window for the best part offour hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finallyfallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold windowpane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open. The mistyfug his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange glareof the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face ofall color, so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidyblack hair. 

I was at my desk, my black hair tied in a messy bun and my hazel eyes focused on the letter from my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. Which, over the summer, have become more and more curt. 

Yes, mother is upset ,he had written, Of course she is. Father left us a pretty decent sum of money so she doesn't have to work yet. My aunt. . .

I bit my lip, and for the hundereth time worried about his aunt. I know it couldn't be Andromeda Tonks, Nymphadora Tonk's mother, because she had married a Muggle-Born and thus brought shame to her entire family. So, it must be Bellatrix Lestrange. My hatred for that woman battled my hatred for Dolores Umbridge, my ex- Defense against the Dark Arts Teacher. 

My aunt says he'll be out soon. Love, "Dray"

I sighed, bit into an apple and chucked it's core in the dustbin. And looked around the room I shared with my brother.

The room was strewn with various possessions and a goodsmattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores, and sweetwrappers littered the floor, a number of spellbooks lay higgledypiggledy among the tangled robes on Harry's bed. My side of the room was much neater; My robes and Hogwarts uniform was neatly packed in my trunk, my books were in a neat pile on my desk below many letters tied by rope,  and a messy pile ofnewspapers sat in a puddle of light on my desk. The headlineof one blared:

HARRY AND EMMA POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONES? 

Rumors continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, duringwhich He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sightedonce more.

 "We're not allowed to talk about it, don't ask meanything," said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry lastnight.Nevertheless, highly placed sources within theMinistry have confirmed that the disturbance centered on the fabled Hall of Prophecy. 

Though Ministry spokes-wizards have hithertorefused even to confirm the existence of such aplace, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theftwere attempting to steal a prophecy. 

The nature ofthat prophecy is unknown, although speculation isrife that it concerns Harry and Emma Potter, the only people ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, andwho are also known to have been at the Ministry onthe night in question. 

Some are going so far as tocall the Potters "the Chosen Ones," believing that theprophecy names them as the only ones who will beable to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if itexists, are unknown, although (ctd. page 2, column 5) 

A second newspaper lay beside the first. This one bore theheadline:SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE 

Most of this front page was taken up with a large black-and-white picture of a man with a lionlike mane of thick hair and arather ravaged face. The picture was moving — the man was waving at the ceiling.