you should see me in a crown

a good mood and good company | OPEN

music played in the background, not too loud that other’s couldn’t hear you speak, but enough to hear the lyrics and nod your head to the melody. and for once ( not once, but it wasn’t often thea let her hair down and she wasn’t pretending on a job ) thea was light, bright and warming. she was approachable, open for conversation and not a lick of stoicism sat on her features. she was even swaying to the music. but who got the credit for this rare side of thea? well, a successful day’s work, ( a success last mission ), and rum. 

“Come on, take advantage of my good mood,” she said, beckoning someone over. “It’s a rarity,” she joked, albeit pretty honest. although, it should be noted, that thea wasn’t often in a bad mood, she just seemed like she was because of the solemnity that usually clung to her.

.

Emmeline had allowed her current boy toy on her arm to take her out, in part due to the stellar mood that her new position had given her. She had begun to feel...well, untouchable. So she was plied with drinks and even returned the favor until her companion became a little too inebriated. She left him to discuss life and morality or some other dull topic with the bartender before making her way toward the woman she knew. 

“Thea,” Emmeline greeted, genuinely pleased to see her friend. “I’d be happy to take advantage of it. What’s brought it on?” She held her glass of wine carefully, holding it out as she took the seat across from her friend so as not to spill.

When: January 16th, evening Who: open Where: Deuxième Chance

Standing behind his bar, Nathan couldn’t help but be a little bit proud at how busy it was. Sometimes it still baffled him that he had a legitimate business. He had created something that was entirely his own, and built it from the ground up to be both sustainable and something good. Sometimes he enjoyed being back in the kitchen cooking, others he enjoyed being behind the bar just chatting and waiting on patrons. Tonight he was covering for one of his staff, so he stayed behind the bar and kept himself occupied as people filtered in and out. 

However, seeing a familiar face, he couldn’t help but approach with his casual cocksure smile as he asked, “Anything I can get for you?” he asked. 

.

She had avoided the restaurant for as long as she could, wrinkling her nose and diverting when it was brought up as a place to visit, but she always knew that someday her curiosity would get the better of her. She had been bitter when Nathan had left, all of her work had been for naught. She had sworn that he was worse than dead to her-- he was a waste of her time. 

Yet there she found herself. Stepping primly through the doors of Deuxieme Chance, glancing around her as if she were just a curious patron. Instead, she scanned the place for the owner, gaze finally settling on the bar. 

She made her way to the bar, taking one of the seats there and carefully keeping her gaze focused on the row of bottles behind the bar even though she wanted nothing more than to train her eyes on him once more. However, hearing his voice, she looked over at him, locking her eyes onto his. “Surprise me,” her voice was surprisingly level for all the thoughts that had raced to the forefront of her mind. “I want something strong.”

When: After Moody and Shaklebolt’s Release Where: Ministry of Magic Who: @emmvanced​

She was restless, but she’d been restless since the night Bellatrix had been murdered.  Gwenog had accepted that there was a certain level of uncertainty in life, regardless of how much she did to eradicate it.  She had expected some unfortunate causalities of that night, but she hadn’t dreamed of Bellatrix being one of them. Gwen had come to terms with that, for the most part.  Sometimes there had to be losses, even if they felt unacceptable.  But there was still a lingering something at the back of her neck, a feeling like she was missing something, something vital and it made her feel all the more the caged animal.

Being stuck in the country on desk duty was doing that as well.  Part of the plan had been the eradication of their superiors at work, and that part had at least gone without a hitch.  But now Gwenog was tasting the bitter side of power, being chained to a desk more often than not.  Still.  A move up, and a well planned one.  Gwen said a silent thanks to Bellatrix before leaving her office, her suit still perfectly pressed and not a hair out of place.  She offered the few people she passed a severe nod, but managed a hint of a smile when she passed Emmeline Vance.  “I haven’t been able to talk to you since our respective promotions,” she said coolly, looking the woman over.  Passable.  Bellatrix had at least trusted her.  “I’ve been so wanting to have a meeting with the other department heads, but you more than others.  Perhaps we could have a chat over drinks?  Combine a little work and pleasure?” she offered, lips quirking up almost imperceptibly.  

Emmeline, from what she could tell, had a keen sense about her, and while it was something Gwenog valued, she didn’t quite know how much yet.  She needed someone now that Bella was gone, and so far Emmeline seemed the best candidate.  Now was as good a time as any to find out.  

.

Emmeline had just returned from yet another meeting, time well spent though at the expense of her good mood. She mentally scanned through her calendar for the rest of the day, seeking any small amount of time that she might be able to use to visit Penelope. That would certainly make the day better-- there was something about her sister’s brightness that made even Emmeline’s own darkness illuminated. Or even time to visit Dorcas-- it had been too long since she had called on her friend and enjoyed bad television and gossiped about whatever mundane details were swarming around.

 She was so lost in her thoughts, she almost missed the woman’s voice greeting her. She turned her head, finding Gwenog Jones before her. 

Emmeline allowed her lips to turn up-- particularly at the suggestion of a discussion over drinks. Perhaps that was exactly what she needed at that moment. “I think that’s an excellent idea. I’d been hoping for the same thing recently. We have so much to discuss,” she noted smoothly. “There’s a little place around the corner that I’m rather fond of, unless you already had a place in mind?”

Remus was used to doing everything he could to fade into the background and was pretty successful for the most time.  So he was a little surprised that he had caught this woman’s attention so deeply.  He could feel her eyes on him and tried not to shift uncomfortably under it.  That would be telling and he wasn’t in the habit of telling anything these days.

“Maybe I’m not in the habit of starting arguments with strange women in bars,” he said mildly.  “Or elsewhere for that matter.  Sometimes it’s better to keep one’s head low to the ground.”  Still, Remus found himself smirking a little despite himself.  “Everyone lies.  Isn’t that what makes the world go ‘round?  Pity that I haven’t gotten better at it.”

He downed the rest of his drink and after a moment of consideration raised a hand to order another, turning more fully towards the woman.  "I’m sure you are.  It must be a banner day for you.“  He wrinkled his nose a little.  "What kind of benefits?  If you want to share.  I’ll buy you another drink to congratulate you on your windfall.”  Remus knew he was in danger of becoming an even sadder drunk, but he didn’t really see much benefit to being sober at the moment, and as long as he kept most of his wits about him, he didn’t see how this could endanger him too much.  Sad drunks were a dime a dozen these days.  All days.  Might as well join the ranks.

.

Emmeline turned her face ever so slightly then, lips curled up into a semblance of a smirk as she let her eyes slide over his face, reading. She looked for any word drawn across his features to show how he was truly feeling about anything, but the mild manner and his own faint smirk kept that all locked away safely. So Emmeline dropped her hand back to the bar, “You’re quite right there. Both about lying and most especially starting arguments with strange women in bars. It would look quite bad on you and that would be a shame.”

She considered the man opposite of her, and their position. She certainly would have to be more careful in the future, but she wanted to indulge. It was, after all, a night of celebration. She had a phone blowing up in her pocket and a fling of the month waiting for her call to visit. Yet she found herself considering. A night of celebration would be perfectly fine, but batting answers around cryptically sounded all the more fun. 

“A promotion,” she confided, though her promotion to head of her department was no longer a deal meant to gain her allegiance. It was a reality and one that was well known to anyone that had watched the events of the evening unfolding carefully enough. Still, she found herself laying her words out delicately. “I will certainly accept a drink for congratulations for that. But,” she continued, raising her gaze to meet his eyes. “You also have to play a little game with me.”

Evan couldn’t help but cut out a small, bitter laugh and shook his head.  “Of course you had it all planned out.  Probably since you left Hogwarts, right?  Laid out a nice little timeline for yourself," he said.  It wasn’t that it was a bad thing, but it just reminded him of his father and everything his father had pushed him to be, the positions he had to hold by what age to ensure that he was the power behind the power, etcetera etcetera.  They seemed to breed it into every Pureblood family.  Just another set of near impossible expectations.  That laugh though, he didn’t expect and it threw him off a little.  What kind of game was she playing?

"Rodolphus knows what he’s doing,” he followed up with, nodding in an almost consolatory gesture.  “You’re probably ten times more competent than anyone that would have held that position in the three years your timeline was giving you to get there,” he said and grabbed one of the biscuits from the tin near the coffee pot and popped it into his mouth.  

He shrugged. “Don’t take it personally.  I’m not a fan of most people,” he said with a small, predatory kind of smile.  "There’s snakes in the grass everywhere, and I’m never sure which ones are playing for the greater good or just playing for themselves.“  He shrugged again, trying to release some of the tension from his shoulders.  "But then Rodolphus does seem to like you, so I guess I should make a bit of an effort, for him,” he said.  As if Rodolphus liking someone wasn’t a really good reason to keep distance and not trust someone. But it was all a game, this fucking life of his, and he could play it a little longer.  "I think, Miss Vance, you’re saying that you actually want to spend time with me.“

.

Her plan had, in fact, been laid out while she was still at Hogwarts. Her seventh year was spent in meetings with various professors and discussing her future plans...along with some less official meetings with her parents and anyone they could connect her with. Every plan laid out neatly (color coded) in a little planner. Rather than answering with that however, Emmeline simply gave Evan a cryptic smile, picking up several of the little sugar packets near the pot and ripping the tops off to pour them into her cup of coffee. 

“Oh I most definitely am,” she agreed, giving her head a small nod as she chose a clean spoon to stir the sugar into her coffee, concentrating on the menial task at hand. “The imbecile in the position before me was completely inadequate.” His rather tragic and untimely death need not be brought up. And in all honesty, it could have been her own father in the position and Emmeline would have deemed herself a better fit. 

She picked the mug up, taking a tiny sip of the coffee as she listened to Evan, taking in that smile that reminded her that he was a Rosier and therefore one of the very snakes he spoke of. She craddled the mug in her hands, leaning her hip against the counter. “And what if the someone playing for themselves is the greater good?” she questioned, thoroughly intrigued by this thought he conjured. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it, Mr. Rosier. I think we have a lot in common.”

    He watches as she flings the hood of her cloak back, her face in shadows in the rapidly-retreating light of evening. The sun sets, and so their work begins. The hood of his own sweater remains over his head; he’s taken to adopting a more Muggle form of dress, nondescript coats and faded jeans, a rather dull departure from the hand-tailored robes and cloaks that other witches and wizards often wore. For their work tonight, he’s chosen an old pair of boots to go along with it, dusted with dirt and use. Dominic gives her a rueful smile. “Lucky us,” he murmurs.

    After another drag from his cigarette, he drops it underfoot, extinguishing the embers as he rises to his full height. He nods to the back garden behind the house. “Follow me,” he says as he unlatches the gate leading to the rows of roses, a well-manicured lawn, and, underneath the awning, a tarp-wrapped sack. Dominic clears his throat. “The preservation charm… well, preserved it, I think. No smell. No suspicions from the neighbors - at least, no one’s been snooping around here. None of the alarm charms I set around the property were triggered.”

    They come to a stop in front of what remained of the dearly-departed bureaucrat. “I’d say we’ve got two options here: stage it as an accident in his house and leave it there for someone to find eventually. The preservation will throw off forensics, make it hard to determine when he bit it. The second option is…” Dominic’s eyes lift, coming to rest on the woodlands behind the property. “I scouted the woodlands behind the property. Lots of caves, pits, ravines.” His eyes meet hers, and not for the first time, he’s startled for a split-second by their shining bright-blue intensity, undimmed even in the darkness around them. “Lots of places to get lost.”

Prior to this point, Emmeline had spent her time aligned with the Death Eaters pushing papers and playing the political game-- she was a more than capable witch, but her true gift was with people. People that were alive. She was dipping her toes into the water here and no one could ever claim that Emmeline Vance wasn’t a prize student and a quick study. 

She follows behind Dominic, the still night making every sound around them dramatically louder to her ears. She found herself peering around them, taking in what was left of her predecessor’s life. The roses, neat and undisturbed as if they hadn’t yet learned of the tragedy that had befallen the owner of the property. She turned her face back to Dominic quickly, no need to linger over a bunch of flowers that would be dead come the frost. “Good...there was no one else on the property when it happened, yes? When I looked around, there was only the nephew off curse-breaking in Egypt so there shouldn’t have been anyone else on the property.”

She stopped behind Dominic, almost entirely missing the sack on the ground right before them. She teetered in her heels for a moment, caught up for that moment in the hypothetical rather than the reality before them. She mulled over the two options set before them, knowing that the manner of death wouldn’t look suspicious, but this was a moment she wanted to tread carefully upon. “Was there anything in the woods that he would have been going to? Anything interesting? Or paths that he would have been walking along?” she asked, trying to paint the picture of the evening’s tale that would be told in her mind’s eye. 

Ever since Emmeline had come into her life, Nellie’s world had shifted just so. Before, the only person she had been concerned with keeping safe on this side was Rodolphus, because he was the only family that mattered to her. However, now there was Emmeline as well. The sister she never knew she had, never knew she wanted, until she appeared in her office one day. Penelope had wanted to push her away for no other reason than to keep her safe, but then, she couldn’t even do that, because something about Emmeline drew her in. Nellie had never been good at not caring, and she found herself caring about Emmeline almost immediately. 

“That’s true, but then, that’s why we’re fighting isn’t it?” she asked, giving her a soft grin. Of course, Emmeline thought Nellie was fighting with her and not against her, and Nellie desperately needed her to keep believing that. She had no idea what her sister would do if she found out that Nellie was one of the traitors amongst them. Grinning, Nellie raised her glass in cheers before taking a sip of the scotch in hand. Nel had always appreciated the warm burn that accompanied it. 

While she wasn’t overly keen with how the promotion came about, she was glad to see Emmeline in the position, and there was no denying that her sister deserved it. Seeing the pride on her face, made Nellie smile warmly at her, “You should be, it’s going to be amazing. I’m grateful to finally have someone competent in that position again. Besides, you’ll be able to utilize your team better,” she murmured, thinking about Rabastan and how he would fare with his new head of department. Nodding, she grinned, “The more of us in power, the better. Honestly, if I had my way, the Ministry would be run mostly by women, but then, we’ll get there eventually I think,” she smiled, giving her a shrug. 

.

Emmeline lifted her own glass of scotch, Nellie’s comment ringing cheerfully in her ears. It felt like the greatest blessing, having not only a sister, but one that actually cared about the same things that Emmeline herself did. Family had always been lackluster in her eyes; her mother was far too caught up in seeking love and affectionate where she could find it, her father too busy seeking out respect ineffectually. Penelope had opened her eyes to what family could really be. “And we’ll keep going until we have it all as we want it,” she agreed with a warm smile, taking a generous sip of the scotch.

She found herself nodding at Nellie’s words, thinking of the office that she had come into and the team that was waiting for her. “It’ll certainly need some cleaning up and then it should be perfect. I’m actually looking forward to it.” And in that, she was honest. It might take some messy tactics, but she truly did want to better the department. On her terms. “Here, here,” Emmeline chimed in, taking another sip of the scotch in response to Nellie’s words. “We’ll have Rodolphus for Minister now, but maybe in the future we’ll have someone better,” Emmeline stated with a little grin. “Though we can keep that comment between sisters.”

Emmeline Vance + Heathers

where: ministry of magic, outside of emmeline’s office when: one week after the election; 9:21am who: @emmvanced

    Life goes on.

    He tries to tell himself that. Repeats it in front of his mirror every morning when he rises to face another day - even if it’s bleary-eyed, hung-over, each day more pathetic than the last. I’m trying, he says, and he’s managed to convince himself of that. Even if the lump in his throat in hard to swallow, even if his stomach sinks like lead inside of him, Augusta Longbottom had raised him better than that. Make yourself worthy of the name, boy.

    And so he does. His hair is well-coiffed, an effortless look than can only be attained with the utmost care and forethought. The telltale dark signs under his eyes are masked away under the dull light of the halls of the Ministry, and he stands as straight and as tall as any well-respected dignitary. With a few smooth words and pleasant smiles, he gains access to the floor that houses the Department of International Affairs with a confident stride in his step.

    He waits in a chaise outside of her office. The sign outside the door is new, shining even underneath the dim lighting from above: Emmeline Vance, with her title decreed beneath it. Some gambles pay off after all, he sourly notes. When he sees her approach, he stands and gives a slight bow - a sign of respect, for he stands on her turf now, and he knows it. “Miss Vance,” he says as he straightens again. “I trust you’re doing well?” The smile that graces his features is a familiar trick up his sleeve, one used time and time again. He knows that Emmeline is much too clever to fall for such parlor tricks but - well, some habits died hard. Frank chooses his next words carefully, fearful of eavesdropping ears. “If I might have a moment of your time, I’d like to discuss… a business venture, if you will, that I believe can be greatly beneficial for our neighboring partners.”

.

Life had begun to take on a sense of normalcy in the Department of International Affairs as Emmeline’s office became comfortable. Those that had been loyal to Emmeline in her previous position were brought up and those that were heard to complain about the shift in leadership found themselves being transferred to a different department. 

And Emmeline was thriving. Her assistant, a young man that was proving to be more than capable at his job, had just brought her the coffee she had requested not five minutes previously. She was meeting with one of the sub-committees that had sprung up in the transition period in the week after the election. It felt that everything was turning out perfectly.

Then the bright little assistant told her that one Frank Longbottom had stopped by. The day would become much more interesting. Emmeline strode out of her office to find Frank and knowing that the employees of the office were no doubt looking on curiously, kept her expression carefully neutral. An ever-so-slight uptick to the corners of her mouth as he bows. “Luckily for you, Mr. Longbottom, I happen to have about forty five minutes free. We can head to my office,” she told him, turning her attention over to her assistant hovering nearby. “I don’t want to be disturbed in this meeting. Handle anything that comes up.”

With that, she waved her hand for Frank to follow and proceeded back into her office. She gave her wand a flick when they were both inside, the door closing soundlessly behind them. 

“You look better than I expected.”

Eleanor suddenly placed her and internally cringed. Emmeline Vance. The literal last person that she wanted to converse with right now. She was all anybody was talking about in the damn Ministry these days and even worse, she was a friend of Lucius’s, although Eleanor wondered if Lucius actually had friends, but she was sure that she had seen the two of them together at some point. She wanted to get up and walk away from this conversation, but knew that that would look suspicious. She glanced around for Hestia and cursed her that she wasn’t there yet. 

“Maybe,” Eleanor said with a shrug as she took a drink from her glass, glad that it bought her some time. “But i’m just here to drink with some friends and celebrate handing in a particularly rough paper this morning,” she lied smoothly. “The rest of it well…it is what it is.” 

She felt like such a liar but she felt on the defense sitting at the bar with Emmeline Vance and she wouldn’t falter. It was a relief when Emmeline didn’t place her at first, perhaps she was too drunk to figure it out. “Maybe?” Eleanor said with a shrug. “I work at the Ministry so you’ve probably just…seen me around there.”

.

Emmeline found herself analyzing the girl in front of her, taking the in the delicate features and the pale blonde hair. It was beginning to bother her, unable to place the girl, though in the grand scheme of things, she knew it didn’t really matter. She found herself tapping her finger lightly against the stem of the glass that the bartender had refilled as she searched her mind.

Her lips curled into a slight smile as she listened, though it held little of the purposeful warmth that she had donned it with earlier in the night. “So you work at the Ministry and have no great opinion on this election...” she mused, drawing her glass up to her lips to take a sip, peering at the girl still over the glass.

Then it dawned on her and she placed the glass down on the bar, feeling a surge of triumph on her chest as she placed the girl. “You’re the Malfoy girl. Lucius’s little sister, right?”

where: a vacation home in northern greece when: 7:42pm, two days after the election who: @emmvanced

    “Still on for tonight?”

    A simple message, sent earlier that day. In the flurry of activity of Rodolphus Lestrange’s election, Dominic’s had the luxury of fading away to the shadows. After all, now came the work of public congratulations, of endless political machinations at the Ministry - work for those more qualified, more talented, more intelligent than he could ever hope, could ever aspire to be. He kicks at the stones underfoot, turning them over in the damp evening mist as a rueful smile crosses his features, gone as fast as it had appeared.

    He knows his lot in life.

    Still, they need to finish what they’d started. He’d made sure to wrap what remained of the man - so honorable in his service at the Ministry, such a hard worker - clean away. All that’s left now is to put the pieces in place, to let nature reclaim what was left behind and let history tell the tale of what happened to such a great man. What a shame he’d lost his life to drink and a tragic accident. 

    He lights a cigarette as he waits and watches the sun sink low on the horizon. His stomach growls as the day grows darker, and he pulls the phone from his pocket - a gift from Severus, another so-called required tool as he adapted back to life outside of the four walls of his cell - and prepares to call her. That is, until he hears the footsteps behind him and he turns, slipping the small device back into the back of his jeans. “There you are - was afraid you were going to let me have all the fun.”

.

The transitional time at the Ministry was proving to be more of a headache than Emmeline had previously believed it would be. She had already gone through two meetings, one firing, and two small-scale promotions by the time that she saw Dominic’s text. She had internally cursed remembering the plans for the evening and knowing that her plans for movies and take-out with Dorcas would need to be rescheduled. 

The rest of the day passed quickly, a blur before the chaos of the night. 

The faint sound of her stilettos on the pathway and the rustle of her cloak were the only sounds in the night as she approached the meeting point. Her own path was lit faintly with her wand and surprisingly, she actually felt a stir of something in her chest. So far, most of her own job had consisted of behind the scenes work-- her hands had been clean. 

Seeing Dominic’s figure ahead, Emmeline tossed the hood of her cloak back from her face, swiftly unbuttoning the clasp that kept the material around her. It had been a gift and she was rather fond of it, no need to sully it. “No such luck for you tonight,” she told him, her lips curving up into a small smile. “I want in on all the action. So,” she glanced around them then, “Where’s the body now?”

.

Interacting with the people around him that actually wanted to be a part of this world was like being at one of those old dinner parties his parents threw all the time growing up.  All the fake smiles and carefully chosen words, knowing every single person you talked to would be chomping at the bit to stab you in the back if they could use you as a stepping stone to get just a little bit higher.

They were all snakes here, but some were king cobras and some were vipers and some, like him, were fucking black mambas.  Hiding in the corners, venomous and powerful but just biding his time until it was the right time.  He’d been here long enough, he felt like he could characterize most people right off the bat.  But some were harder.  Emmeline Vance was one of them and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her put in just the right box.

She was as icy as the best of them, wielding power and condescending to the people around her, carrying herself with the confidence that wasn’t just breeding but was earned.  Evan was sure he saw a little viciousness in there too.  The part he didn’t get was when she’d fucking smile at him like that.  The sneer would have been easier to deal with, at least he understood that.   This…he really didn’t know what to do with.  "Thoughtfully?  Looked to me like you earned it,“ he said mildly, sizing her up, his eyes narrowing at the way her whole countenance had changed since she realized it was him in the room with her. He smirked when she went on, even as he felt something cold and dark twist in his gut.  All her words did was remind him how much he hated himself.  "Oh, I always have been,” he said easily, almost haughtily.  Perfect Rosier superior attitude.  “It just comes with a fancier title now.  Also earned. Maybe a bit more for me than you.”

.

As quickly as Emmeline had warmed to Penelope and as naturally as their relationship had progressed, Evan was exactly the opposite. There was a thick layer of distruct that had built between them, one that she knew would need every tool in her arsenal to break through. If it was just for the sake of being liked, Emmeline might have cast Evan off as not being worth her time to dethaw, but Penelope was on the line here. So Emmeline simply painted on her most charming smile and went on.

“Hmm,” she hummed, tilting her head ever so slightly. “You’re right. I did earn it. Though,” she continued, “Without our new Minister it might have taken me a little longer to get here. In my original plans, this wasn’t scheduled for another three years.” Then, for good measure, she gave a lilting little laugh and brushed by him to go for the coffee pot, waving her wand to pour the coffee into a mug. Let him take it for a joke if he chose, she thought. 

The tone of his following words had Emmeline’s brow raised ever so slightly, glad that her face was mostly obscured by her hair as she faced the coffee pot instead of him. “Is that so?” she asked then, turning to eye him more closely now, her gaze raking over his own countenance. “I get the feeling that you aren’t a fan of mine. With how closely we’ll be working under our shared friend, I think we should change that.” And for our shared sister.