Chapter 44

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Chapter 44

Emerson sat at her desk in the quiet of the Ravenclaw Common Room, staring down at the folded pink note in front of her

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Emerson sat at her desk in the quiet of the Ravenclaw Common Room, staring down at the folded pink note in front of her. The room buzzed with the low hum of students chatting or studying, but she couldn't focus on any of it. Her mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the words scribbled across the ugly coloured page.

Miss Wilmore, you are no longer required to attend detention for the remainder of the week.

-    Headmistress Dolores Jane Umbridge

She read it over and over again, her brow furrowing in confusion. Why was she off the hook when everyone else from the D.A. still had to suffer through those brutal detentions with Umbridge? It didn't make any sense. Emerson knew she should be relieved and grateful. The opportunity of reprieve from the blood quills was a blessing but instead, she couldn't help but feel suspicion gnawed at her. It wasn't just a coincidence. There was only one explanation that made sense, and her thoughts kept circling back to Mattheo.

Mattheo. The boy who, for reasons beyond her comprehension, intervened that night of the D.A. meeting to make sure she wasn't caught. He completely went out of his way to protect her by placing himself on the line to keep Emerson safe from punishment. She never allowed herself to believe that Mattheo could be anything other than the cold, detached boy who didn't care about anyone, until recently.

And, he did care.

Ever since the Christmas holidays, other than the period where they stopped being friends, he truly showed to her that he cared about her. He showed her sides to him that involved him worrying about her, protecting her or showing up when she didn't ask for it, and now, seemingly pulling strings to get her out of detention.

She knew he was behind it. She didn't know how, or why, but she knew that he had done something. It didn't make sense otherwise. She hadn't had the chance to speak with him since that night, but everything pointed to his involvement. It all made sense. The signs pointed towards him with his anger, his protectiveness and the way he stormed away after kissing her forehead. He must have gone straight to Umbridge and done something. And, the thought of him doing something wrapped around Emerson's mind like a tight coil, squeezing tighter with each passing moment.

The possibilities behind his actions drove her mad. Did he feel guilty for being part of the Inquisitorial Squad? Was that why he did something, to ease his own conscience? Or was it something more than that? Something deeper? The thought sent a shiver through her, and she hated that it did. She hated that she was even entertaining this idea that she couldn't quite accept.

Finally, there was the kiss. The kiss on her forehead that she couldn't quite stop thinking about. Emerson rubbed her temples, trying to push the memory away, but it only made it stronger. She replayed it over and over in her mind, lingering there like a persistent shadow that she couldn't escape.

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