#mightyprongs

Only two days had passed since the day the owl had come and dropped off the letter; only two days in which Emmeline was able to at least pretend that everything was fine. If no one knew then surely the truth could be averted and altered and at the very least pushed back, to the very far corner of her mind. Perhaps if she tried hard enough none of it would have happened. Yet that very morning had marked the day when pretending to be fine would no longer work. The moment she’d stepped in the great hall things had felt different, like there was something brewing under the surface. It was impossible not to notice the occasional glance, the hushed tones but only when she’d sat down at the Slytherin table that it become clear why.

Hands that she couldn’t even remember the owner’s face of had pushed the Daily Prophet her way, unfolded so not a word could slip past her attention. There it was, ink on paper, announcing the truth the witch had so desperately tried to avoid: Her father, the attack and the resulting loss that came with such events. It was oddly bizarre how easy it was to ignore such things when others were hit with such news, how easy it was to ignore the trouble brewing outside when one wasn’t the one whose family and friends had suffered. No, until that very moment the people causing such things, the ones to laugh at the mere notion of yet another half-blood attack or slur towards muggleborns were her very friends and their families. It left a sour taste in her mouth, filled her eyes with confusion that was hard to mask. After all that time, perhaps this would be the day that the mask would fall.

The entire day had been a nightmare, moving from class to the other with the Daily Prophet tucked safely away in her bag as though one hidden copy could change the outcome. She ignored the polite gestures from some, avoided the gaze of the professors around, desperate to make it through the day. It was a time of oncoming war, surely something else would happen within the next day or two to tide over whatever mess this was. Emmeline felt so utterly desperate for a moment to breathe. It was the first time that the Slytherin common room felt small to her, not the home it usually had been. On one hand some of these people were still her friends, some of which she would have trusted with her life to a degree yet also faces that had become so distorted with a need to know what lay hidden behind their very masks that she felt herself ready to run.

It was close to curfew when she stepped outside the common room, wandering aimlessly past students hurrying back to their houses. For a while she allowed her feet to carry her, not caring where she would end up nor worrying about curfew. Her eyes were blindly ignorant to the world around her, ears closed to the echoes of voices around her as she walked. That was until her ears picked up something that made even the one witch adamant to slip by whirl around to face the source. A student Emmeline didn’t recognize, perhaps a year below her. They weren’t a Slytherin and yet their words almost sounded cocky enough to match it. “What did you say?” There wasn’t a lot that could push her as much someone daring to talk about her father in such a way. Normally the Slytherin in her would know to mask it but it was all too fresh, all too soon.

It was perhaps the one thing that Emmeline understood like no other; the fear that came with the loss of a person - missing or otherwise - and the need to act when Death Eaters were involved in the matter. The whole Order was a mess, really and who could blame them. Lily was and always would be an important part of it. That much the former Slytherin would have dared to admit; even out loud if ever asked. There wasn't much she'd have signed her name to but that was one of the few things of which that fact was true.

For a while she had stood by, observing. It was like watching a deer in headlights, freeze and then scurry away in a frightfully desperate attempt to escape the oncoming danger in clever ways. There wasn't much to be done as even fewer held the answers needed to help Lily. To her James appeared almost like a ghost. Was that what happened to one when their loved ones went missing? Even in the face of her own sadness, the loss of her own father Emmeline had held it together, kept her feelings locked away inside of her. To this day it seemed only Dumbeldore truly knew of them. Was this what it looked like when one let it all out?

Time felt as though it was rushing past, flying as though nothing could hold it back. In all honesty, that was the only way time could ever function; a messy rush through the race of life that they all seemed to be on. Yet the heist kept her busy, on her toes at all times. The planning phase had come and gone, the cup been studied and duplicated but there was still enough left to do. Mere hours, a night of sleep was between the here and now and the heist the next day. It still didn’t feel quite real to her. Emmeline reached out to ring the doorbell, a small frown forming on her face at the unfamiliar sound of it all. It took some time getting used to it.