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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The late August sun was warm on Emerson's skin as she stood on Platform 9¾, her hand lightly gripping the handle of her trunk. She glanced toward the crimson train in front of her, its doors already bustling with students. The air buzzed with the hum of returning friendships and last-minute goodbyes, but Emerson felt a quiet unease beneath her carefully composed exterior.
It was a long summer.
After the shattering confrontation with Mattheo, Emerson was a hollow shell of herself when she returned home. She spent the first few weeks of the summer holidays at home, retreating into the quiet of her childhood bedroom. Her mother barely noticed, considering she was rarely home from the Ministry and when she was, Emerson merely faked nonchalance, despite the bleeding wound in her chest.
The betrayal clung to her like a heavy fog. She could still hear his voice and the words he said. She could still see the moments they shared like sharp, painful memories she couldn't escape. She hated herself for missing him, for letting her mind wander to him when it shouldn't.
It was Olivia who dragged her out of that darkness.
"Come to Italy," Olivia insisted in mid-July, practically packing Emerson's bags for her. "You need a break. You need to get out of your head and out of here."
Emerson resisted at first. She didn't want to intrude on Olivia's family holiday. She didn't admit it aloud but she didn't think she deserved to enjoy herself. But eventually, Olivia's persistence wore her down, and before she knew it, she was standing on the cobblestone streets of Rome, the warm breeze tangling her hair.
Italy had been like a balm for her soul.
Her skin was now tanned, glowing from weeks spent in Italy under the Mediterranean sun. A subtle golden warmth highlighted her cheeks, her hair falling effortlessly in soft waves. She spent the better part of the summer staying in a villa overlooking the Tuscan countryside.
And she had felt better.
The first few days in Italy were the hardest. Emerson felt like a ghost in her own skin, haunted by memories she couldn't seem to escape. Everywhere she looked, she saw his face. And worst of all, she felt the lingering betrayal that stung every time her mind replayed the moment she learned the truth.
Then came the mornings exploring ruins and afternoons lounging under the shade of olive trees. She learned to laugh again, truly laugh, as Olivia's younger brother and sister teased her and Olivia's parents insisted on feeding her more pasta than she thought possible. The sun and the sea washed over her, and for the first time over the holidays, she felt something close to peace.
But healing wasn't linear. There were nights when she lay awake in the dark, her thoughts spiraling back to Mattheo. She would stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling, wondering where he was and what he was doing. Anger battled with sadness, and sadness fought with longing. It was a vicious cycle that left her exhausted. Did he think about her at all? Did he regret what he did? Those questions haunted her, even as she tried to push them away.
