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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Mattheo remained cold and detached for the rest of the day on Monday. He didn't walk with them to Herbology, splitting up halfway to have a smoke on his own. He didn't join them for lunch until the bell was about to ring, busy spending the free time having another cigarette or five. His eyes lingered on Emerson once but when she caught him, he looked away with such finality that it cracked something inside her chest.
Every time she tried to speak to him, even if it was a quiet question about the day ahead, he answered with flat, one-word replies or didn't respond at all. He wasn't acting cruel or even particularly angry. He was just numb to her, because he decided the best way to stop whatever tether still existed between them... Was to sever it completely.
Even Enzo noticed. He cracked jokes that didn't land, poking at Mattheo with a spoon and even going as far as threatening to charm the laces of Mattheo's shoes together. When that failed to get more than a vacant glare in return, Enzo gave up, looking to Emerson with a shrug and a defeated expression.
The following day only proved worse.
Emerson barely slept the night before. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that flicker in him when he said, "You'll be safe."
Mattheo's voice somehow haunted her more than Cedric's ever had in a dream.
Despite the ache still sitting heavily in her heart, she forced herself to show up the next day for her Seventh-Year classes. She couldn't let this year and this regime take any more from her than it already had. So she walked with the new couple, Olivia and Theo, to Transfiguration, fingers clenched around the strap of her bag.
McGonagall didn't greet them at the door the way she usually did. She simply stood at the front of the classroom, hands clasped tightly in front of her and chin high. A tired sort of strength gleamed behind her spectacles, and the moment all of the Seventh Years filed in and taken their seats, she flicked her wand toward the board, wordlessly writing the day's topic in a tight and elegant script.
Her classroom had always felt like a sanctuary, but it was no longer the case. There was no welcome, discussion of their holidays or mention of the new headmaster.
Only:
Advanced Animagus Theory & Magical Concealment
She addressed them curtly about the changes to the curriculum. It wasn't much; most of what they were doing remained the same, but there was a new emphasis on 'practical obedience', a phrase that made Emerson's stomach knot.
"And while I expect diligence and discipline in this classroom," McGonagall said, her eyes flitting across the rows of students like steel blades. "I do trust that each of you is capable of thinking for yourselves."
She paused, long enough for it to echo.
It was long enough for every student in the room, but especially Emerson, Olivia, Theo, Enzo, Neville and Blaise, to exchange glances and understand the weight of what she just said.
