Emerson Wilmore was an exemplary Ravenclaw student, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and an unyielding moral compass. However, things took a twisted and deviated turn in her life after her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, was murdered by L...
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On the following Sunday, as the dawn light crept through the windows of the Ravenclaw common room, Emerson stared numbly at the headline in the Sunday Prophet: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Returns. A chill crept through her veins as she read through Cornelius Fudge's reluctant confession of Voldemort's return, knowing it was now undeniable to the rest of the Wizarding World after witnessing his appearance himself, thanks to Harry and the others. It was impossible to read the words without feeling as if something heavy was pressing down on her chest. But, it also came with a strange, guilty sense of relief.
The world finally knew. The world finally knew that Voldemort was back, and that he was responsible for Cedric's death.
For months, Harry and Dumbledore had struggled. They were isolated, labeled as liars or worse. But now... Everyone in the Wizarding World knew the truth and Cedric's memory was no longer insulted. There was no going back from this now.
But beneath her relief was something that twisted her stomach. Her mind shifted to Mattheo. While she spent the past few days fixated on their kiss, he was living with this shadow all along. He must've known that Voldemort was behind the break-in at the Ministry, hadn't he? He must've also known that it wouldn't take long for the Wizarding World to finally know and believe the truth that Voldemort was back, and that he was the son of one of the darkest wizards the world had ever known.
Her worry about what their kiss meant seemed so painfully insignificant now. She only felt a gnawing guilt settle over her, dulling the warmth that filled her since that moment in the rain. How could she have been so selfish? While she was dreaming about him, he was dealing with the harsh reality of his father's shadow looming over him – that same father who terrorised her own world.
She wanted to see him and be there for him. She knew there was no other choice.
Across the room, Olivia sat cross-legged on one of the plush blue armchairs, scribbling furiously in a letter to George. Emerson's eyes drifted to her friend, watching as Olivia's quill scratched against the parchment, her expression bright and cheerful in a way that felt worlds apart from what Emerson was feeling.
After a moment, Olivia looked up, noticing the look on Emerson's face. "You alright?" She asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Emerson took a shaky breath, looking at her best friend as if weighing her words. "I need to speak to him. I can't just... Sit here and wonder."
Olivia's face lit up, an almost conspiratorial grin spreading across her lips. "Finally! I thought you would never ask," She exclaimed, closing her letter and rising from her seat with a bounce in her step.
Emerson's heart pounded, her thoughts swirling with emotions she couldn't quite name. But she knew one thing for certain: she needed to see Mattheo.
They made their way through the castle, the quiet corridors empty on this early Sunday morning. As they descended the spiral staircase from Ravenclaw Tower, Emerson's pulse quickened. She replayed fragments of their kiss in her mind, but her thoughts were heavy with uncertainty. A hundred scenarios ran through her head. She wanted to believe it wasn't all a fleeting moment or small reprieve before he inevitably slipped back into the dark shadows that haunted him.
