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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Emerson woke up feeling as if she hadn't slept at all. The hours of sleep she had managed to get felt like nothing more than a blur. The events of the day before, ending with Theo's persistence in trying to get her to reconcile with Mattheo and starting with seeing him on the Hogwarts Express, all played in her mind like a constant loop.
When Olivia returned to their dormitory after speaking with Theo, Emerson quickly mumbled a "Goodnight" and rolled over, feigning sleep. She didn't want to hear anything about Theo or Mattheo. She didn't want to talk about Mattheo, and she certainly didn't want to explain to Olivia how deeply everything was affecting her. Pretending he didn't exist was her only strategy, and she was determined to see it through.
But as the hours passed and sleep eluded her, the words Theo had spoken rang through her head, uninvited, like an annoying echo she couldn't silence.
"Maybe you should let him explain."
It was absurd. Ludicrous. She would never believe anything Mattheo had to say. Anything that came from his mouth would be tainted with lies to try and force her to trust him again, just so he could completely destroy her. He used her and betrayed her in the worst way possible. She would never give him the satisfaction of an explanation.
But Theo's words still managed to plant a seed of doubt. Emerson hated how much they had shaken her resolve, even just a little. She refused to entertain the thought of forgiveness or open herself up to the possibility that anything Mattheo said could ever make it right. It was better to keep him out of her mind entirely. To act like he never existed. That's what she told herself, over and over again, as she tried to calm her racing heart and clear her thoughts.
Now, in the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the curtains, Emerson dragged herself out of bed. Her reflection in the mirror was as tired as she felt: dark circles under her eyes, her hair a tangled mess. She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom before putting on makeup and styling her hair, steeling herself for the day ahead.
When Olivia finally woke, the day already stretching long before them, they made their way down to breakfast. Emerson tried to shake off the weight of the previous evening, forcing herself to focus on the familiar routine. The Great Hall was bustling with activity, students chatting and laughing, the clink of cutlery on plates filling the air. Emerson scanned the Slytherin table instinctively, her eyes flicking over it with a sense of relief when she saw it; Mattheo wasn't there. Neither was Theo or Enzo. She assumed, with a slight inner sense of calm, that they must be outside smoking, as they often did. A small part of her, a part she tried to ignore, was grateful for the distance. She could pretend, for a little longer, that the whole mess with Mattheo was someone else's story.
The two girls sat down at the Ravenclaw table, Emerson immediately diving into her breakfast. It was easier to just focus on the mundane tasks like eating and drinking while pretending that the world wasn't heavy with emotional baggage. She tried to quiet the thoughts of Mattheo and the awkwardness that lingered from the night before. If she didn't think about him, he wouldn't exist. Right?
