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 garden of the Burrow was a sea of sunlit flowers and floating candles. Laughter rippled through the air as guests danced on the lawn, champagne flutes clinking and music weaving in and out of the summer breeze. But none of it touched her. Emerson stood near the fringe of it all, half in the sunlight and half in shadow beneath the white tent canopy. Her sage dress billowed faintly at her knees, and her fingers clutched the empty stem of her wine glass without thought. She smiled when someone caught her eye or when Fleur brushed past in her delicate white dress, radiant and lovely as always. But her smile didn't touch her eyes.
Emerson hadn't been herself for weeks.
It had been fifty-one days since the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. Fifty-one days since she last saw Mattheo before he disappeared with Theo and Enzo. Even now, with the warm wind in her hair and the sound of George and Fred bickering somewhere nearby, it still felt like the battle hadn't ended.
Because it hadn't. Not for her.
Her sleep came in snatches since that night, interrupted by memories she didn't ask for: of Cedric, of the Astronomy Tower, of the Dark Mark, and of Mattheo's bloodied knuckles. She often woke up reaching for someone who wasn't there and then hating herself for it.
He was supposed to be the enemy. Yet, she'd felt safest with him.
She didn't even know where Mattheo was. No one did. Not even Theo or Enzo's whereabouts were known either. Olivia hadn't heard from Theo at all either. And as much as Emerson wanted to believe they were okay and that Mattheo was lying low, her mind always ran to the worst places.
As she stood there, watching Bill and Fleur twirl beneath the enchanted stars, she let herself feel it. That night replayed behind her eyes with agonising clarity every time she closed them. And she had tried not to close them too often.
Her mind drifted back, unbidden, back to the night of the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.
The door to the Hospital Wing creaked open softly as Emerson stepped inside, the dim candlelight flickering across bruised faces and hushed voices. Her arm still ached, Enzo's healing good but incomplete, and her head throbbed from everything that unfolded that night.
The ward smelled like blood, burn potion, and lavender from Madam Pomfrey's endless calming charms. It was full of people, but the room still felt so hollow. Neville was unconscious in the bed closest to the door. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, and Lupin were gathered at the far end of the ward, around Bill's bed. Olivia was already there, quietly holding Ginny's hand comfortingly. The moment the door open, all of their heads turned.
"Are you okay, Em?" Hermione asked, rushing forward and pulling her into a hug. Her eyes darted to Emerson's arm, which was wrapped in a stained bandage. "You need to get that looked at." Emerson looked down at the bandage on her arm. It was stained dark red now.
