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 sat by the window in the quiet corner of the Ravenclaw common room, her Advanced Potion-Making textbook open in front of her. Outside, the grounds were bathed in the sunlight of an autumn afternoon, but she wasn't paying attention to the rolling hills or the grass swaying in the breeze. She wasn't even reading the words on the page.
Her mind was elsewhere.
The ache behind her temples kept returning, subtle at first but now pulsing with an annoying regularity. Emerson pressed her fingers against her temples, massaging the faint ache that had taken root there again. It was happening more often now, and she couldn't explain it. The tension would strike at the strangest times: mid-conversation with Olivia in the corridors, during class, or when she was sitting in the Great Hall. Always accompanied by the same unwelcome intrusions.
Memories.
Fragments of moments that seemed to appear out of nowhere, unbidden and vivid, leaving her breathless and disoriented.
This morning, the flash came on the way to her first class. She was walking with Olivia in the corridor, laughing about something Fred and George said, when she noticed Mattheo standing in the middle of the corridor, as if he knew that she was heading in this specific direction.
It was strange because Mattheo was always everywhere that she was. They didn't share identical timetables, yet it seemed like they did because he was always walking in the same corridor as her, or loitering around the same classroom as her. She didn't understand how he managed to get it every single time.
He was staring right at her as he always did, his dark brown eyes catching hers with an intensity that made her heart stutter. She turned away immediately, but the tension followed her, spreading across her temples.
And then it had hit her: a memory of him.
It was a memory in the library. It was last year when she was sitting at a desk with Mattheo. He was lounging in his chair, his legs stretched out under the table, one of her textbooks in his lap. He asked her to help him with Charms, which she realised later he didn't actually need help with, but she didn't care. He stared at her for over an hour while she explained topics to him, too entranced in admiring her than actually learning. She smiled at his compliments and laughed at the way he annoyed her. She could still hear his voice, low and teasing, calling her "Emie".
It wasn't the only one.
Later in the day, another one appeared during Potions. Her hand accidentally brushed Mattheo's on the desk when they reached for the same ingredient at the same time. At the physical contact, Emerson was greeted with a new memory as she felt the ache blooming between her temples.
New Years Day.
The two of them were sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast, closer than she ever thought she allow herself to be with him. His voice was soft and hoarse from the late night, as he told her she looked different. Good different. She remembered the way his gaze lingered on her unstyled hair, his lips twitching into a rare, genuine smile as he said, "I prefer your hair down... And you looking all natural."
