emmelinevrp-blog

[emmelinevrp-blog]

{ moodboard } ✷ the order of the phoenix members ✷: emmeline vance

❛  I keep on keepin’ on keep fighting the fight for the days are long but there is stillness in the night and through all of this I’m still here through all the pain and loss I can still shed a tear I have fought and won by some kind of miracle though I am not a believer I still believe life can be quite lyrical I guess all of the suffering has taught me this; the light may go out but I am always stronger than all of this.❜   (x)

[emmelinevrp-blog]

the-curious-weasley:

Though she didn’t talk but only a few words, Arthur had paused to see if she had more to say. He hoped that she was coming out of what terrible grip she was in. It wasn’t surprising to hear that she didn’t feel very well, though that just made him more worried about her. Looking around, he couldn’t see anything that he could use that might make her feel better. From what he could see, the barren floor was concrete and the walls were just as empty.

How did they get to you? Arthur frowned and he bit the inside of his bottom lip as he tried to remember. It was all blank, for some reason. The last clear memory he had was locking the office door and heading out to run a few errands before going home; Molly had asked him to pick up a few things. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what they had been. “I was heading to Diagon Alley,” he started, still trying to churn up memories. “I don’t think I made it there.” Now he was starting to panic a little. What if what he was supposed to have picked up something important? He mentally gave himself a hard kick for having been caught off guard so easily. “I don’t remember the details. I can’t even say how many there were.”

His stomach felt as if it weighed a hundred tonnes. He tried searching for any memory, but he couldn’t find any. The only reasonable conclusion that he could come up with was that he’d been hit by a stunner from behind, or very soon after he left the Ministry. At least, that’s what he hoped and not that whoever had kidnapped him wiped part of his memory. The latter downright frightened him, for it begged the question, what other memories might he be missing? This line of thought triggered his mind to try to recall everything that he could. He sat in silence as he cycled through his memories, trying to find any blank spaces. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like there were any obvious ones. “Yeah,” he shook his head slowly, “I think I was definitely taken off guard. Pretty quick, I guess.” Now he was just disappointed with himself. And this is why you’re not in the Order, he told himself. Clearly the fact that he hadn’t even noticed he was about to be taken meant that he wasn’t all that capable of even joining the Order’s ranks.

Arthur thought about asking her how she ended up here too, but he wasn’t sure how she might react to it; and he didn’t want her to fall back into her even more traumatized state. Besides, did it even matter now? The only thing that they should even care about was the fact they were somewhere stuck in a cell-like room. “Let’s talk about something else, how about? Get our spirits up. That’s the best thing we can do. Keep our spirits up.” The last bit was more for himself than anything. He nodded his head as if he were agreeing with himself.

“Right, umm. Me and Molly like listening to the Muggle radio. I fixed one up a little while ago. They play some pretty cool songs.” Arthur furrowed his brow to try to remember a tune and words. “Yeah, Molly’s favourite band is, uh, Fleetwood something. Have you heard of them?” Closing his eyes he did his best to play back one of the songs that they listened to recently. “I think one of their songs goes something like, ‘Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow. Don’t stop it’ll soon be here’,” he tried singing. He didn’t think he was all that great of a singer, but he figured that it couldn’t be worse than what they had to put up here.

Suddenly, there was a sound of rusty hinges opening. Someone was opening the door. Arthur stopped his (poor attempt at) singing and promptly stood up from his spot. A dark hooded figure approached him and before he even had the chance to react, the redhead felt something solid take the wind from his gut, followed by a swift and hard impact to the side of his face. As he hit the ground, all he heard was the same rusty hinges closing. Then the world went dark again.

She almost wondered, not for the first time, if they indeed would ever get out of there - it seemed too easy, way too easy, to give up from the pain and have somebody kill them, let them run from their bodies, let Emmeline - herself - run from her own body and never have to worry about her mind, the swords, the terrible way the memories wouldn’t come, would only turn into shattered images. Yet they needed to hold on to life, she needed to hold on to life.

 Things were painfully hard to understand, to see, yet she was stronger than those demons, wasnt she? Maybe not. Perhaps not. Having dealt with so many people who suffered from the same curses before - and she remembered those patients strangely vividly now -, she was more than aware people didn’t simply recovered, they survived through it and coped the best way they could. How could she even start coping?

Then, he spoke. About how life had happened just the way it normally did, about how Arthur’s day started just like many others and yet… things didn’t go according to the plan. If only she could say something, speak louder, if only she even believed they would be fine and out of there, yet how could she lie to him? When he just helped her snap out of all those terrible feelings. She longed for the moment her mouth wouldn’t be dry and her voice there, clean and outspoken, when she would be able to do more than just stare, perhaps even hug him, let him know she cared. How could she with such a cheating brain? 

At least his wasn’t cheating them both. She couldn’t see inside his mind, couldn’t notice the worries and how he felt but she thought she knew of thing or two still, and maybe Arthur was ok… better than them. Maybe he would survive through it, even if she died in the next days.

“R-right.” She tried smiling, noticing the words, hearing them clearer now - something about changing subjects. Even though she couldn’t think much about anything else other than how it must have happened, the moment they took them away. She couldn’t even think of them without noticing her entire body prepare to a flight response, no matter her legs wouldn’t move too well.

 “You are right.” She rested her body once again, looking at him, separating the details from what her mind made up. Arthur, Molly, Bill, George, twins, girls… no, not girls. Boys, right? They were boys. She had made a mistake - boys, brothers, not sisters. And songs. Bands. Muggle bands. There were wizard bands but she loved muggle ones the most… hadn’t she and Molly talked about it one day? She could almost remember. Almost. “Yes. Fleet..wood. Fleetwood. I think so.” It tasted funny in her mouth, yet sparked a memory. A melody, actually - good enough for now.

Then she was smiling again, for Arthur was singing and the pain wasn’t taking over herself like before. She still didn’t trust her body enough to move or to say phrases with more than five words in it, but it wasn’t too bad. Hopefully things would stay this way… hopefully… she closed her eyes, wanting to sing as well, but letting him lead. The final words of that first phrase approached, then the second and… there was another sound. A very different, unwelcoming sound. Soon her feet moved, her hands were shaking and her eyes opened too fast, too soon - she realized there was something different in the dark, and Arthur did too. Something worse than good muggle songs and the good feeling of knowing there was somebody there who cared, because whoever had entered didn’t care.

“No-no… don’t... “ Emmeline tried, for nothing. What would they care for? Would they even look at her? With a racing heart, scared eyes, a cheating mind and cheating hands, an unwanted body at the moment for it worked for nothing else. Suddenly there was a sound and light, too much light, and she saw it too well - the healer thought the urge to snap her eyes shut. Swallowing hard, she tried recovering her voice - way too fast, and it worked for nothing at last. The attacker, whoever it was, was too far away when she spoke “what are you going.. to do with him? Why can’t you leave?” Fuck. They wouldn’t leave. They would never leave. She would die there. Arthur would die there. How could she even fight like that?

No.

She couldn’t leave things like that. 

If only her movements hadn’t been so much like a child when she threw herself, trying to reach them - perhaps she wouldn’t have been forced to unconsciousness again.

A Hellish Place || Down the Rabbit Hole || Emmeline & Arthur

[emmelinevrp-blog]

edgarbonesknows:

The girl didn’t appear to be hurt. Edgar let out an audible sigh of relief. Not only would he have felt completely terrible if he had hurt her, but he would have been grounded for years. Edgar had gotten into his fair share of trouble at these sorts of gathers before, but he’d never seriously injured someone before. He was glad that he hadn’t started that streak now.

As the girl picked herself up, he chewed his lip directing his gaze towards the bust that was now on the ground. It wasn’t until the younger girl spoke that he turned his worried eyes back to her, eyebrows quirked in surprise. She was gazing at the painting beside the statue in awe, looking thoroughly impressed and offering him a smile with her name.

Edgar looked up at the painting as well, tilting his head to see what she was seeing. Sure, it was an impressive painting and not something he could achieve, but it looked like every other fancy thing in every other pureblood home. It was difficult to be impressed by something that, to him, was only there to impress. He doubted the beauty was the reason it was hung on this wall, but rather to offer the illusion that these people were better than others because they could hang such beautiful things on their walls. It was stupid.

Scowling at the painting, it took him a moment to realize that his expression might be insulting Emmeline as well as his prolonged silence. When had he gotten so bad at pretending? Running a hand through his hair, he looked down and gave a shrug. “It’s pretty good, I guess,” he told her quietly, trying to compose his features into something more welcoming before looking up again.

“I’m Edgar,” he introduced himself, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place now that the crisis was over. He wasn’t used to having other pureblood kids interact with him. Lance usually made sure that they wanted nothing to do with him. “Um — yeah — I’m sorry about knocking you over. I don’t really care if you were looking around.”

Leaning down, he grabbed the head of the statue and pulled with all of his might, trying to lift it. He managed to move it slightly, but he was quickly realizing that it was extremely heavy. “I — uh — I was also looking around. Anyway, I think I did more damage — shit.” The swear escaped him with purpose as he failed to lift the statue on his own, though he couldn’t help the blush that tinted his cheeks after he said it. He wasn’t allowed to swear, but Sean had taught him that one and had used it quite frequently.

Whereas many people wouldn’t be sure what to think, Emmeline didn’t do much besides accepting his answer - she thoroughly believed his words, agreeing that it was pretty good, more than pretty good actually! The little girl couldn’t see why anybody might disagree and, not yet having been stripped from her innocence and naivety, it only made sense people would have paintings in their walls for the beauty it offered. She should have held on to such naive thoughts, and so did at those years of youth; this is why she kept smiling despite the few signs of hurt, ignoring those to stare at both decoration and the boy. He reminded her of a small one who lived just a few streets from her home - he was always saying bad things about her though, but Edgar, as he introduced himself, seemed like a good person. At least she had a feeling that he wouldn’t hurt her… he did ask if she was ok, after all.

“That’s… not a problem.” Gulping, she ignored as the redness took over her face; her mother had told her never to blush during those parties, but how could she control such reactions? Emmeline had no idea so, instead, decided to keep her head high and don’t think too much about it. “This is okay, I- let m…” She stopped, walking one, two steps away from him after she heard the curse. They… they couldn't curse! Could they? These words were only for the adults and if her mother ever knew… but… but Edgar had helped her, and he seemed like a good person despite the word. Could a word even influence in somebody’s worth? Wasn’t everybody worth? Merlin, her mother words and Emmeline’s own thoughts created quite a mixture inside her head, and it was all boiling way too fast.

Finally she made a decision, stepping closer once again and lowering herself to help him. “T-two people work better than one, right?” She said as she tried to help him lift the statue. If only her strength was better, like those big girls who also said not so many great things, but at least they could have helped better. Still, some could she might have done because the statue wasn’t too heavy and soon went back to its normal place. This was great - that way people wouldn’t know what had happened, right? Edgar wouldn’t suffer from any bad consequence, neither would she, and so they could go on with their lives and not hate each other or…. even better, not have their parents hate them! What a relief.

“Iwonttellaboutit.” Blushing, she bit her lips as she looked to the boy, hoping he figured out her words. “I won’t… I won’t tell anybody about that w-word. I promise. Mama said it’s not a good one, but… you helped me, right? A-and it wouldn’t be right.. to tell.” Sighing, she let the relief take the best of her as the words ended and she had already sent her message.

Still kids || Emmeline & Edgar || September, 1964

[emmelinevrp-blog]

plantsandpotions:

Emmeline’s kitchen was warm and bright, the air filled with the pleasant scent of cooking. Tilden took a seat, watching as Emmeline bustled around the stove, preparing the tea and finishing some eggs that had been frying. He hoped he hadn’t led to them being ruined by distracting her, but Emms didn’t seem bothered, so it would seem all was well in that regard.

He hummed sympathetically at her explanation of the hamster’s presence. “It’s kind of you to look after him for her until she’s well,” he said. That was just like Emmeline, always going above and beyond. It was what made her such a good Healer, as well as a good friend, but Tilden worried sometimes. Emmeline gave so much of herself to other people that he fretted she left little time for herself.

Still, he was hardly going to criticize her for being caring. That was one of the best things about her. Instead he made the same mental note that always crossed his mind whenever he paid her a visit: to be sure to be there for her if ever she needed it. Friends had to look out for each other. They were all in this together and all he could really do was put as much care and thought into his friendships as people like Emmeline did.

He thanked her quietly when she set a plate of eggs down in front of him. He hadn’t meant to interrupt her meal, but he was grateful for the food. He’d had a busy day at work that day and had only taken a moment to stop by his home to grab the rose before apparating here, so his stomach was rumbling in anticipation. “It’s great, thank you!” he told her.

As they started in on their food and tea, he made a sound of acknowledgement to her questions, making sure his mouth wasn’t full before answering. “Ah, ta,” he started off with, grinning bashfully at her compliments. “That one doesn’t really come with an exciting story. I got the original rose from a little old lady I helped with the garden of. Then it took off so well in my garden that I needed to divide it, so here we are! Not that I don’t have a few exciting Herbology stories to tell!” He laughed, thinking back to some of the strange ways plants had come into his possession. “Some people chase after dragons or manticores or fly way too fast on broomsticks chasing Snitches. I run around after magical plants!” Anyone who didn’t know how dangerous Herbology could be might find that silly, but he knew that Emmeline would understand. She loved the subject as much as he did.

“As for Daisy, she’s really busy, alas.” Tilden sighed. He was still getting to spend a fair amount of time with his girlfriend, but with the NEWTs fast approaching, he knew she needed to focus on her studies. It didn’t help that the mysterious and threatening letters someone had been sending her were leaving them both on edge. If Tilden ever found out who was behind that, he would rip them limb from limb.

It was the last thing he wanted to think about right now, though. “She’s getting ready for her exams in a couple of months,” he told Emmeline. “So it’s sort of ‘stress stress stress!’ all the time. I’m doing what I can to help. And what about you? How are things at St Mungo’s? Have they made you boss of the place yet?” he asked jokingly. “Healer extraordinaire and all that!”

Although Emmeline hadn’t yet figured out how to be less of a burden to Tilden and somehow make up for all that effort, her mind indeed worked fast enough thinking of ways to do so; there were a few plants in her house she knew he would be excited to check them out, perhaps not too much though since the one he got her was so beautiful. Maybe there were books of adventures and missions somewhere which could turn out to be useful for him in the long run… but maybe not. Merlin, why was it so hard? Fine, people did say they enjoyed her gifts but she couldn’t go with something less than wonderful, not after somehow went through so much trouble to give her one of the best presents she’d ever received.

At last though her mind rested, focused not on these thoughts but on listening to Tilden; she would use sometime later to think about it, instead of not paying attention to him - after all, they were both in a happy enough, warm environment, and it did him no good to have her worry so much at the moment. She even thought about answering his comment regarding Silver, but decided against it, instead smiling and shaking her head in a way to let him know it was more than fine; the cute little animal was great company and so far hadn’t bothered her once, in fact much the opposite. She couldn’t even properly think how things would have gone had nobody volunteered to take care of him, the little girl would be devastated and that broke her heart in so many levels; no, things were more than fine with her using a few minutes of the day to look after the small guy.

At least, however, the food was good enough. This time she grinned, quite comfortable with her emotions as she finished the food, happy to see Tilden was enjoying himself so much. She could only imagine how demanding his job was and although as a healer having to work so many hours wasn’t always comfortable, how unknown and surprising his adventures were could be just as exhausting, if not more. 

Emmeline listened carefully as he spoke about the flower, smiling and imagining how the lady must have felt while he helped her - Tilden was so kind, such a lovely soul, she could only imagine the lady was grateful and surprised all at the same time. She laughed along as he spoke of some moments, remembering a few things he’d had told her in the past; he was one of those people Emeline wanted to do much more for, because they - him - deserved it and having to deal with so many dark things in the world… it was good to balance things.

“Let’s just hope you don’t lose a finger one of these days. We don’t want anybody actually finding out how dangerous it can be.” Chuckling, she allowed a sweet smile to cover her face. It was a job of course, but they both were aware of some prejudices people who loved Herbology suffered, just like the wizards who chased after animals but not the big ones such as dragons.

 “You’re a talented wizard, Tilden. I’m sure the plants are grateful for how you treat them, as opposed to..” she had to stop for a moment, gulping and separating thoughts, especially the images of what she’d just imagined “the ones who aren’t so understanding of Herbology or plants.” She knew he’d understood - the wizards who took the plants, killed them, sold them to other terrible wizards. The ones who hurt so beautiful being, and made Emmeline want to vomit every time she heard a story of them.

“Wait… That’s her NEWT’s year, isn’t it?” Emmeline knew, but it was always best to make sure and it also gave her time to send away the smile that wanted to be in her face; it actually won anyway. NEWT years could be the worse, however it felt so great to receive good grades and she was more than sure this would happen to Daisy. “I don’t miss the stress, that’s for sure. I’m sure it’ll all be worth it in the end, though - we both know Daisy will get out of Hogwarts with the most amazing grades.” She wanted to say more, however, Tilden got the best of it - now she was not only not speaking, but also blushing. Furiously. This always happened when somebody complimented her work and… of course she wasn’t so great at it. 

“No! Of course not! There’s so much to learn, so many things to do and people to take care of… I have wonderful colleagues that are much better and experienced than me. No, no, I’m sure there’s no promotion coming my way. Which is fine. I love taking care of them.” Finally she took hold of herself, finding some time to breathe; her heart rate had spiked, she wasn’t so comfortable when it happened.

Also, Tilden… “S-sorry. I… got a little carried away. You do know what I mean, right?” Still embarrassed, she tried showing him a true smile instead. “I promise things are good enough. Not great, not with so many people showing up there, so many attacks and terrible things going on, but… we’re mostly taking care of all of them.”

Pride of Hufflepuff || Tilden and Emmeline || April 16th, 1980

[emmelinevrp-blog]

notlibatiusborage:

Her touch was gentle and though he was not a fan of getting too close to others much of the time, there was something soothing in the calmness of her movements. At no point did he feel restrained or trapped.

Severus did as asked, lying his arm on the rest and watching every move Vance made and only flinching very slightly as an object was summoned to her hand. While he had no doubt that anyone in any position of power would abuse it, he also felt that Emmeline would not amputate his arm or bleed him dry. In any case, it would be hard for her to do worse than he had already managed himself.

“I understand. I did my best not to break it but-” Hebshrugged, rearranged the folds of his robes in his lap and shook his head. “I would prefer not to be drugged. If the pain is too bad I will let you know.” He doubted it could be worse than some of the things he had already experienced in his thusfar short life.

“yes, of course. Why else would-” he remembered the incident with the reception-witch last time he had visited here and toned down the snideness and rude remarks. “Yes. It was nothing to be concerned about however. If you have any concerns regarding specific reagents, I am sure I can remember them. ”

He eyed the tweezers a little nervously, feeling his heart rate start to climb and then accidentally managed to make eye contact with her. Christ… The last thing he wanted at this moment was to have someone else- someone like her- prodding around inside his skin. But he would have to cope. He didn’t dare allow an unknown quantity to numb his hand when he might need it for wandwork at any moment.

Apparently, Emmeline had no reason to worry - he didn’t flinch how she imagined he would, not even bothered to avoid replying. For a second she wondered what he was doing with ingredients that could cause such harm, despite having an idea of how skilled he was. She couldn’t help it, worrying about patients and raising some suspicious; it just didn’t make sense, but her mind sometimes confronted what was rational.

“It doesn’t look too bad. Not as terrible as it seem to be just by looking at it, at least. My biggest concern is whether the venom might spread and at what speed and consequences, so I’ll do my best to deal with it soon.” This time she took over her own worrisome mind, working instead of thinking. Not letting much space for questions, she acted just the way any mediwizard had gotten used to in the past decades: doubting their patients would have the skill or knowledge to question their actions.

Taking care of others was just about the most normal thing at Emmeline’s life - looking out for them, knowing exactly what needed to be done so their well being was secured. The weirdest part of the job was doing so for people she thought would never had to be taken care for. Dealing with Severus should have never been seen as something outside her routine, yet, memories and remains of a too distant childhood made it all too awkward, perhaps even fearful.

At some point, somehow, she got used to it. Her confidence slowly returning, be it in the way she moved or the fact she had the knowledge to move forward with most actions. Reminding herself of difficult patients, the ones who would scream and shout and not even let her touch them without a terrible amount of persuasion, the once hufflepuff woman figured out she wasn’t opposed to keep things the way they were at the moment; therefore, she only raised her eyes to offer him a kind enough smile or, largely, to assure them both her actions weren’t causing more damage than the other way around.

Surprisingly, even the crucial seconds hadn’t betrayed her. The moments in which she had to put a pause to the process to get another object, a certain herb or use a spell weren’t enough to erase the progress. Finally it looked… done. Not entirely, yet the worse had been managed. “Don’t move it. Just tell me how it feels. Still hurts?” She quickly stared at what she had just taken off his arm, then looked back at him.

Masks Beneath Masks ||Emmeline and Severus||

[emmelinevrp-blog]

(The world is upside down and nobody noticed

- Relicário, Cassia Eller/Nando Reis)

“O mundo está ao contrário e ninguém reparou.”

— Nando Reis 

[emmelinevrp-blog]

the-curious-weasley:

When she asked who, he took it as asking who he was. “It’s Arthur. Arthur Weasley,” he repeated. Emmeline seemed very far from usual self, and it saddened him to see her in such a state where her mind seemed to be elsewhere. But there was hope. She had repeated his wife’s name, and he grinned at that. Even though Molly wasn’t there, he admired how she helped. When he heard her name too, a little bit of the lingering cold seemed to melt away.

Tell me more, that’s what she had said, or at least that was what he had heard. Arthur was more than happy to oblige. “As you know, we’ve got five kids. Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins, George and Fred. I don’t know Molly keeps up with all of them, but she does it and she does it well. They’re happy, definitely well fed, and each one has a good heart.” Despite not anyone seeing, he smiled proudly anyway. He hadn’t realized how much he missed their children’s laughter when they ran around the house. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear them through his memories.

“We didn’t plan on having five kids, we actually thought we’d only have four by now, but things happen.” The twins had been an unexpected surprise, but he had been over the moon when he found out. “Molly’s got two brothers who are twins. They’re practical jokesters, and Fred and George are just as mischievous.” Something told him that he was in the process of finding out what raising Gideon and Fabian would be like. “I still get them confused, Fred and George that is. That’s the trouble with having identical twins, and I just know they’re going to use that to their advantage when they’re older,” he chuckled. Hopefully Molly’s experiences with her brothers would help them.

He was glad to talk more about his sons. Though he felt a pang of loneliness and worry, it did help him feel better overall. “Percy’s still a toddler, but Molly and I are thinking that he’ll be the quietest of our kids. He’s perfectly happy to listen to someone reading him a story. Charlie has developed an interest in dragons, of all things. I think it’s partly my brother’s fault with all his travelling and wild stories of all the things he does. And Bill is a fantastic eldest brother. He even helps out Molly, which is thoughtful and mature of him.” Arthur was proud of each of his and Molly’s sons, and he knew that they were each going to grow into fine young men (though hopefully not too fast). Talking about them made him wonder what they were doing now. He hoped they were playing and not just waiting for him by the window, waiting for him to come home. In his mind, he could see them playing in their yard with the fall foliage: making piles of leaves and jumping in them. He could see Molly with the twins and Percy watching the older boys play while she talked to them.

“I’m pretty sure that my brothers had a bet over whether or not I’d ask Molly to marry me,” he chuckled. “Though I’m not sure who was betting what.” Their last year at Hogwarts had been hectic, and their decision to get married on the spur of it hadn’t been his plan. If he had it over to do again, he would’ve spent the time to give her the wedding that she deserved instead of the half-hazard one that they pulled together. Admittedly though, it had been one of the most exciting things in his life. “It all feels like it went by so fast,” he added. “Molly and I have been married for a while now, but it still feels like just yesterday that we were married.” Arthur sighed, though it was mixed with happiness and sadness.

Feeling his leg cramp, he tentatively got up. The knives which had burrowed into his flesh had nearly gone. He wasn’t sure how long ago that was now, and his memory was keen on forgetting the pain. Walking to door, he pressed his ear against it to see if he could hear anything on the other side. Nothing. “Maybe they’re taking a break,” he said and headed back to her to sit down again, since there was nothing else to do. Arthur extended his legs out and leaned against the wall. “How are you feeling, Emmeline?”

Hope filled her heart ever so slowly, the pain worsening and relieving over and over - it seemed she could feel all of it now, not just the bits and places where the death eaters focused. Yet there she was, still trying to hold her own, not screaming or crying but baring, because that was all she could do, that and listening to the voice, the sweet, soothing voice. Emmeline tried so hard linking it to a name, yet her mind was broken, neurons so quick to function cheating on her, betraying the one thing she had always counted on. For a moment she worried her brain might never be the same, but she couldn’t think of that, should only think about the voice and the sounds, the end of somebody inflicting pain… this mattered, not worries and not- not the fact she might never be the same again.

There were more names, of course - she imagined why children came to her mind, sweet, wonderful beings, so innocent and it hurt now but not the usual pain, rather an emotional one, the doubt of whether her attackers had taken children as well surfacing. Yet the names itself were just as soothing as the voice, a memory flashing through her mind of a cute little boy asking for her attention, pointing at her, laughing with her… more hurt, more pain, more of her stomach wanting to make her scream for help, yet she stood silent. Molly. Children. Happy. Sounded like a good image, a happy family… and the guy. The guy she couldn’t put a face on to just yet. Finally the pain started fading - not disappearing, but somehow not as bad. Perhaps she had just gotten so used to it, it turned into something almost ok.

Would it ever be ok?

Mischievous. That was a good word, right? She tried connecting the dots, capturing one or two faces, remembering the meaning of a few words, linking nouns and adjectives - it was so, so hard. Even her brain hurt, or perhaps it was just her head pleading for an entirely non-stressful environment. Who was to know she would ever make it out alive? And then twins. She remembered taking care of twins. Hadn’t it been? Two girls, sister, born at the same day, she was sure of it… the last people she took care of before… before they got to her and it hurt. But she remembered. Somehow, she did. “Older.” Her tongue flickered at the word, voicing it through her throat before she could even realize the action; it hurt, not as much, but it did. Maybe the almost unvolunteer factor played into diminishing the pain.

This time she looked at him. This time she managed to stare while he spoke of his other sons and… Arthur. Arthur. That was the name. She almost smiled but her throat hurt too bad and there were more tears, even if those wouldn’t fall. He was talking about them and she could… should… would imagine their faces, no, not imagine, remember. She knew Arthur. Arthur was a good person. It still hurt but her mind told her so, and she believed her judgment - for a moment Emmeline wondered about the lost memories, sure they would come back later, yet she wanted to know and… and the price to pay was pain. Right now, perhaps, the best thing would be just to listen and hope. She could do that - when he talked about Bill and Percy, and even about Molly, the marriage word making her feel like smiling again; she had nobody, right? Another intuition perhaps. Hopefully that sweet man, Arthur, would come back to his Molly. Hopefully.

“Not… good.” The words almost stopped at her throat when she tried to spoke, lips entirely dry, perhaps everything in her was bound to dry, even blood. She wondered if that’s how it felt to die… slowly, a torturous pain, never quite getting better, only bearable. “Better.” Somehow she bit her lip, finding the strength to do so, and her mind wondered again; maybe they had just taken someone else. Merlin, she hoped not. “How did they…” she stopped again, closing her eyes, licking her lips, forcing it to work. It had to work. The million swords weren’t on her anymore. “how… did they get to you?”

A Hellish Place || Down the Rabbit Hole || Emmeline & Arthur

[emmelinevrp-blog]

Every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it's gonna take

A million dreams for the world we're gonna make

[emmelinevrp-blog]

hostilegazelle:

Dorcas let out a pent up breath when Emmeline opened the door. For a split second their eyes locked, which allowed some sort of telepathic understanding to pass between them– Yes, it’s me. Is it you?–and then business commenced. She shifted to allow Emmeline the room to grab under the man’s opposite arm, and together they laid him on the couch. 

Crouching to her knees next to Emmeline and opposite the man’s head. She watched in awe as the girl’s hands went quickly to work, and when prompted, she replied with, “I-I was rounding a few blocks away. There’s been some, some chatter on muggleborns being bait–.” But she did not get the chance to finish. Emmeline’s command cut off her tongue, and cut on her mobility. 

Quickly she ripped the shirt more to get it off the man’s shoulder’s, then pulled her wand from her pocket. In sweeping motions she began clearing the blood from the skin, helping free the visual field, hoping to be of some help rather than the catalyst to the mayhem. “I’m going to roll him onto me. I don’t think it’s on his front–” which meant he was bleeding into Emmeline’s couch, but saying that seemed redundant. 

With a grunt she heaved, and the top half of the man slouched onto her chest. Again her eyes found Emmeline’s, searching for something that would ease the burning in her belly. “He was already unconscious when I  rounded the corner, but they just kept…” Dorcas shook her head and shifted under the weight. 

“Do you see it yet?” There was so much blood…. Dorcas didn’t know how much was in a body, but if she had to guess, they were now covered in that approximate amount.

Dorcas was not sure if he was a wizard or some unlucky muggle. She did not know if he had a family or a lover who was waiting up for him. What if he had a job only he could do? Was there an animal at his apartment depending on his care? Dorcas hadn’t the foggiest, but she wanted to make sure he got the chance to go home to whatever it was (like she hoped someone would do for her if she was the one bleeding out).

“Emmeline, tell me you see it.”

Running around, Emmeline understood she shouldn’t be shaking, body turned into chaos as she ordered Dorcas for help and tried her best to get a hold of herself, fixing the man in the process. It wasn’t so hard in the books, neither at simulations, but real life always had that sneaky way of making everything turn into a bloody, awful mess. She couldn’t get anything wrong, not when a life was at stake, even if that environment wasn’t hers truly and maybe there were little to no medical objects but she could still find a way...  

Forgetting to answer for a second, she looked for the source of that much blood. A gruesome look once found, that was for sure, but at least she could see it now, which meant there was a way to get it fixed. “I-I see it.” Time returned with a snap, or was that sound only in her mind? Not that it mattered. With the wand still hanging on her hand, she held it tighter and kneeled down. 

“Vulnera Sanentur.” Such an easy word, learned after an entire year of training, once she understood most details covering human body, as knew by wizards. She watched as the wound reduced its size dramatically, not yet fixed but turning into a minor source - repeating the spell, twice, three times, Emmeline watched as it went from drastic to a small threat. That she could fix without the need to use spells.

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath all along, and let it go with a relieved smile, looking for her friend not for the first time. “I have to clean the cut and make sure he didn’t lose too much blood. I know there’s a potion for infections somewhere… let me just get it.” Disappearing for not more than three minutes, soon she was back with a box and enough ‘tools’. Items she kept there for safety, others just for the knowledge that she knew how to mix and use them - sometimes it helped her lack of self-esteem, and this wasn’t the time to be ashamed. 

“Look, I know it seems he’s much better, but… there’s always a chance he might not make it.” And this was the worst part. Knowing there was always so much anybody could do for another person. “I can do a good part of the healing, but his body… it needs to finish the process and he lost a lot of blood, not to mention all the possible traumas. C-can I check him? You can tell me what happened now. It's gonna take a while and.. I think we both need to calm down a little.” Smiling lightly, Emmeline let another sigh of relief as she started her work. Better saying, continued it.

Life is but a dream || OPEN

[emmelinevrp-blog]

edgarbonesknows:

Edgar wasn’t sure why his parents even insisted that he continue to go to these stupid parties. It was tiring and he always had to pretend he was someone else. His mother insisted on it and his father simply nodded along with whatever she had to say. “Make sure you speak like a gentleman, none of this nonsense you’ve been prattling on about since you got back from school,” she scolded him.

She’d been extremely disapproving of him since he’d returned from Hogwarts with a bit more attitude than when he’d arrived. Not that he dared go too far out of bounds, but since meeting Sean, he’d come to realize that not everyone in the world was proper. Not everyone was ashamed of their family and wished to hide in a crowd full of other fakes. He wasn’t perfect and neither was his family. They were half-bloods and there was nothing wrong with that, so why did everyone act like there was.

Still, he was trying to be on his best behaviour for this ridiculous status show, smiling at people but not opening his mouth, just as his mother preferred. He let Lance do most of the talking, his older brother had always been better at that.

But after two hours of acting the perfect son, he was fed up. With the excuse of using the bathroom, Edgar managed to escape the party and wander into the massive corridors of this particular pureblood family’s ridiculous home. The walls were decorated with perfect portraits, there wasn’t a scuff to be found on the spotless marble floors. It was the epitome of pure, with all of the beauty to cover up the ugliness beneath. Edgar kicked the floor, leaving a large streak of black as his highly polished shoes left their mark. He smirked at the sight, feeling small vindication that he’d managed to destroy the perfect image.

Unfortunately, as he was so busy staring at his feet that he missed the low-hanging torch on the wall which clipped his shoulder. Letting out a startled cry, he found himself knocked off balance and struggling to regain his footing as he stumbled backward, knocking into the bust of an old wizard that was perched precariously upon a pillar. Edgar closed his eyes as everything went crashing down, himself included. He landed hard on his knee, sucking in a sharp breath at the pain. This wasn’t an unusual scene for him, but as he sat, crouching in the wreckage with a pounding knee, he knew that this would be the last pureblood event he ever attended. He was refusing from now on, he was tired of all of this.

It wasn’t until he heard a small voice that he opened his eyes, his eyebrows raising in alarm as he realized that he had knocked the statue onto a little girl. “I— Oh! Oh no! I’m so sorry!” Hurriedly getting to his feet, he hobbled over to where the girl was sitting. “Are you alright? I didn’t — I didn’t know you were there! I’m so sorry!” His heart was pounding, what if he hurt this girl? Fear and shame were welling up in his chest, he didn’t know what to do.

Emmeline hadn’t seen it coming. Sure, there was always the possibility somebody might find her, lurking around in places the little one wasn’t expected to be, yet everything seemed different during those wonderful seconds - when she needn't worry about anything else other than her own curiosity to understand all ornaments.

Her feet stood rigid now, all five senses paying attention to details as the layers of confusion faded, giving space to understanding and even more worries than before; not only had she been seen, but also found… by a boy. She could never actually control herself when around boys. Not that there was anything wrong with them, or her, at least she wouldn’t know anything about that, but anxiety and inquietude seemed even worse once around them. As if they were part of another race she couldn’t yet understand; boys and girl division so thoughtlessly traced in her mind, a strong confinement supported by social norms, tales and memories.

She was left breathless the second his words made some sense. Not much, not at first, because all Emmeline expected was a laugh, a smirk, fingers pointed at her as somebody shouted any of her many flaws. It had happened before, over and over as kids understood how easy of a target she could be, as long as they caught her off guard, not walking around with a friend. Yet there they were, alone, and he looked�� concerned? 

“I- I’m fine.” Her lips trembled, the words no more than a whisper as she convinced both of her own status. Was she alright? Except for the fear, maybe… nothing bad had happened. Not to her. Not yet. “You don’t have to..” her voice was lost, both for the heart which jumped to fast and the fact that she wasn’t sure who was the boy talking to her. She had seen him before, but his name… what was it? “I’m fine. T-this was nothing and.. I should have looked too.”

Her mind was still a mess, knots and knots of confusion and preoccupation, but at least it seemed better; as if, maybe, perhaps, with luck, he wasn’t interested in doing her any bad. Still on the ground, Emmeline did her best to get up without falling again, even though sometimes her feet made a mess of themselves; her own body betraying her, no wonder kids picked on her instead of somebody else. She didn’t wait for him to offer a hand, both for distrust - which slowly disappeared - and the fact that this at least she should do for herself. She hadn’t noticed he was taller, much taller, and older. “I don’t know what you saw, but I… I promise I didn’t have any bad intention. It’s just…” Looking around, the pureblood let out a sigh - not of discontent, but enjoying the sight. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Everything.” Then she looked back at him, almost trying to smile. Almost.

“I’m Emmeline.”

Still kids || Emmeline & Edgar || September, 1964

[emmelinevrp-blog]

We have all these numbers and labels we look at that constantly force us to judge our bodies. But no one really cares but you. Being a size 0 isn’t going to bring you more love.

[emmelinevrp-blog]

plantsandpotions:

Tilden beamed at the sight of Emmeline, who looked equally pleased to see him. The diminutive Healer always had a way about her, as if she carried sunshine inside of her, which shone through her smile whenever she was happy. Tilden chuckled at her cheerful surprise when she spotted the plant in his arms.

“I’d say ‘Of course I didn’t forget!’, but we both know it’s a miracle that I remembered,” he said with a laugh, stepping through the door and setting the potted rose down where Emmeline indicated. Though Emmeline didn’t know about the problems Tilden had been having with his memory since joining the Order of the Phoenix, she’d known him for a long time now and knew how absent-minded he could be even on the best of days. “I promise the wait will be worth it when it blooms in a few weeks, though,” he added, eyeing the rose fondly. It rustled its leaves quietly, seeming appreciative of the fact that it was no longer being carried around. A low musical hum came from its leaves.

That said and done, Tilden turned his thoughts to Emmeline’s offer of refreshments. “Tea would be lovely, thanks Emms,” he told her. Moving to follow her towards the kitchen, he paused at the mention of a hamster. A hamster? As in those fluffy little mouse-like animals?

Looking around, it didn’t take Tilden long to spot the fuzzy little creature. He grinned at it, though he still followed after Emmeline. There would be time later to take a closer look at the cute little fellow. “The hamster is certainly tempting, but I’m happy to keep you company. Do you need any help with the tea? And when did you get a hamster?” They weren’t the most popular of pets amongst the magical community (small furry creatures and owls weren’t the best combination, after all), but Tilden was a big fan of most creatures and he couldn’t think of a safer place for a harmless little animal than Emmeline’s home. The hamster was probably being spoiled rotten, he thought with a smile.

Entering the kitchen, he leaned against the door frame, not wanting to be in Emmeline’s way, but wanting to be on hand if she did indeed need help with anything. She seemed a little bit harried today, as if she had a lot on her mind. He wondered if work was stressing her out. Being a Healer had to be a taxing job even at the best of times. You saw people in the worst of states, after all, and these days the sorts of patients and situations Emmeline and the other Healers at St Mungo’s saw were surely even more terrible. The Death Eaters and You-Know-Who caused so much death and destruction.

He held off asking about such things for the moment, however. He wanted to talk about happy things, like plants and hamsters, not violence and the stress of the war.

Emmeline could only hope for the day the flower would have finally bloomed. Tilden had an eye to these things, an ability to know exactly which plants would be useful or beautiful, that always impressed her. She got excited every time, like a little kid who had just been gifted their favorite toy, whenever he showed up with a plant or an ornament to the living room. That rose… the healer was more than sure it would be a beautiful addition to the house. An spectacular one! She could see herself taking care of it with all the love in the world, and showing it to all visitors with a proud like, but also enamored and happy her friend care so much to bring it there. The music, too. The music she could never call anything less than lovely; he knew how much she cared about anything related to songs, and the humming of the flower.. it was beautiful. Nature and magic creating something exquisite.

“Not at all! I’m happy to make it.” With twinkling eyes, Emmeline soon started making the tea - after, of course, having checked the eggs, which thankfully weren’t burned this time around. She wanted nothing more than to make others happy, especially friends who showed up at her house with a gift. If anything, she felt bad for not yet presenting him anything that could make up for so much effort. This was the thing, she didn’t want to impress, wasn’t interested in having people see her in a certain light, but… she couldn’t deal with the thought of being a burden. And what else was she, if people lost their time gifting her beautiful presents?

“A friend of mine asked me to take care of it. She is a cute little girl, stuck at the hospital for Merlin knows how long. It’s awful, but... I know Silver will see her up on her feet one day.” Sighing, Emmeline shook her head as she walked around the kitchen, unable to hide the sadness which covered her eyes for a moment. There were so many terrible things in the world that had never been explained, such as why children, innocent creatures, ever suffered. “I’m happy to take care of him, though! And this… is your tea.” Beaming, she brought the tea, her own drink and eggs in two different dishes.

“I’m not sure you wanted it or not, but… I made it for myself and it’s not bad to share. I promise my magic is good enough. And it has enough salt.” Stopping herself, she smiled a little ashamed, cheeks red for a moment. This happened all the time, talking too much whenever she felt the need to explain something, even when nobody asked.

Biting one of the eggs, she was happy to prove her theory: they weren’t too bad. Or bad. Of course, many made much better eggs. Hers was good enough, perhaps. “And what about that flower? It’s so beautiful! You have an amazing talent, Tilden. And lots of courage too, I imagine, for going after them. Was it dangerous? Or exciting? I know you can go much further from many just to try and get your hands on some plants.” Waiting a few seconds, she spoke again; not yet interrupting him. “How is Daisy? I’ve missed her.”

Pride of Hufflepuff || Tilden and Emmeline || April 16th, 1980

[emmelinevrp-blog]

the-curious-weasley:

Reaching up to wipe away the drying trail of tears on his face, Arthur moved closer to her. He realized that his question was probably stupid. Of course they’d gotten her, why else would she be here? She hadn’t said anything, making him worry. What had the Death Eaters done to her? He didn’t want to think about it too much; not wanting to think about his friends were being put through hell. “Emmeline? It’s me, Arthur.” He hoped that she might recognize his voice. Reaching out to her, gently put a hand her shoulder in an attempt to provide some comfort.

His own pain seemed to be irrelevant in comparison to what she seemed to be trying to cope with that made her unable to speak. Anger started to spark in him. She was one of the kindest people he knew; why would anyone want to put her through anything? Bloody Death Eaters, he thought to himself. How could they ever think they were doing something ‘good,’ if this was the sort of thing that they had (or chose) to do. He wished he could blast a hole in the wall to make an escape, but he knew that it was futile to wish for something he couldn’t do. Being angry, he realized, wasn’t going to help either. At least, not now.

Arthur decided that he would be helpful. Emmeline looked like she was worse off, so naturally, he would do his best to help her in anyway he could. How he was going to do that, he didn’t know; and he didn’t know what he could do. Without his wand, he couldn’t do very much. C’mon, Arthur. Think. Maybe the next time a Death Eater came in, he could tackle him and try to get a wand. _They’d probably just end up killing me for that. _He wasn’t sure what his odds actually were of succeeding, and the consequences would no doubt be very painful. But he wondered why he or any of the other captives were here being held instead of, he shivered at the thought, instead of just being killed. Did the Death Eater’s want information? They hadn’t asked anything of him yet, though perhaps that was because they hated him for being a blood traitor more than wanting any answers. Maybe Emmeline could tell him more, if she could. Not now though.

Not knowing what else he could do, Arthur began to remove his coat and did his best to drape it over her shoulders. He wasn’t even sure if she was cold, but he hoped that it helped, even if it was just a little. “Sorry it’s a bit dirty. I can’t say they’ve got much care about making sure we don’t get our clothes dirty,” he said, intending to make a joke and lighten the mood. “It’s a good thing there’s not much light in here. I don’t think either of us look that great right now,” he continued. “Man, Molly’s gonna to have a fit when she sees me like this. She’s gonna think that I’ve crawled through just about everything. Bad influence for our boys.” _Right, keep thinking as if we’re going to be let go any time now. _

His eyes were adjusting the lack of light better, and he could see that she indeed didn’t look very good. “Is there anything I can do, Emmeline,” he asked, because worrying about her helped him to distract him from the terrible feeling building in gut and playing what-if scenarios in his head over and over again.

The screaming, the pain, the sensation a thousand times worse than million of needles going through her body, the unrestful agony, synonym of suffering, all of it was processed by memories over and over and over and over. Like an ever ending tale, only it had, but this couldn’t be further from the truth - because how do a torment such as this actually ends? How can somebody ever say she would wake up again and not gasp, not yelp and squeal, both heart and body broken again and again… how could anyone believe? Yet she hadn’t spoken with one person, hadn’t even seen herself. All that mattered was the pain, the way it clung to her body, the same way it still would hours later.

Even breathing seemed harder now, body trembling as she held her head, her arms and legs, trying to stop the tears from falling, voice from disappearing for good. What if she couldn’t talk ever again because her throat had been destroyed by so much effort at letting them know just how much hurt they caused? What… if? None of it passed with the minutes, if anything her body was failing at holding up, an infinite torment for sure. She heard something, like a voice, like somebody was breathing right next to her and it seemed so easy, effortless even; it only made her body shake more, memories of the smiles of those who laughed as she screamed. They had found it more than easy, like wearing a second, completely normal skin. Not for the first time since they suffocated her and made all disappear, Emmeline felt like a rabbit inside a hole, falling, falling, falling… would there ever be an escape to any of those feelings?

“N-n…” She tried, hard. This time a good few hundred of swords concentrated on her throat, not letting her say more than the sound of a word. Whoever it was wouldn’t understand, but she couldn’t bear the thought that perhaps they didn’t care, perhaps it was just somebody enjoying her pain, just like before, waiting for the right moment to take her again and lock her at that miserable room. They did nothing for now, but she knew better, didn’t she? Knew better than to trust anybody at that place… they said nothing about getting others. Others. Who were others? She couldn’t really capture the face of anybody at that moment, but hers and those who restrained her. Couldn’t, because it still hurt too badly and.. it seemed like… like it never would disappear.

“D-don’t.” Her voice failed, once, twice, tears still trimming, more like an unstoppable ocean rather than a shy cry, and her body only got closer to the wall. She needed to escape them, whoever it was, needed to. Right?

Suddenly she felt something warm. Not warm like burning, even if it felt so for the first few seconds, and the way she screamed might have scared whoever it was for a moment, but warm like… staying too away from the sun for too long, and suddenly going back to it and noticing how good it was. The same warmth from a parent, a friend, somebody who cared, and suddenly a few of those needles and swords disappeared. Not many… far from many. They were still there and she still cried, yet unable to see anything, or focus on any image or sound, but at least it wasn’t too bad, as if her mind had just started to work on coming back. She went silent, fingers holding the coat and dropping it over and over, re-learning how to do so.

A voice followed her at all moments, one filled with fear and worry; she thought of that word, worry… she knew that word. She knew it too well, and it reminded her of patients and hospitals and bad things turned into good… could bad things ever be turned into good? Because that pain wouldn’t go away and now the answer sounded like no. But that voice… that voice defied such thought. It told her things might take too long to be okay but one day the pain would stop. “W-who..” Gasping again, she tried holding the tears for a second, failing to do. At least her head moved a little, searching for that piece that held her to the ground. Her fingers held on to the coat for more than a second, two, three, four… was she making it through?

“Molly…” Closing her eyes, Emmeline thought that warmth again. Molly reminded her of good things, of friends and… and that voice… Molly reminded her of that voice… not of that person with such a memorable name, but somebody else.. If only she could see him. It sounded like “a” him. Didn’t it? Maybe no… now the swords were in her head and she couldn’t think well. Worse, a better word.

“T-tell me… more.” She tried saying so, because that voice kept her there… and it helped. Whoever it was might be messing with her, ready to get her as soon as she seemed a little bit ok, but maybe there was hope. She was good at hoping, wasn’t she? They always said that, that Emmeline was good at least pretending to hope and her name was Emmeline… sounded right, then. And that voice… that voice made her hope.

A Hellish Place || Down the Rabbit Hole || Emmeline & Arthur

[emmelinevrp-blog]

padfoot-ing-around:

He told himself that he hadn’t intended on going out to look for a fight; Fights always found him. But after some pints with the boys at a pub, Sirius felt like there was nothing he couldn’t do. He was 18 and feeling like he was on top of the world. 

Naturally, he also felt like any Death-eating-wanker he came across (but he definitely wasn’t searching) would deserve whatever spells he decided to duel with. He never went into Knockturn alone, he wasn’t daft, but tonight, he decided fate must be tempted to find some of the buggers he was looking for.

It hadn’t taken him long to find himself in a spot of trouble. He had just turned down an alleyway when four wizards at the end of it, looked up from whatever it was that was being passed around, to send him glares. Sirius quickly backed away, getting a bad feeling about being there and turned to head the other way. Several paces and he knew he was being followed.

They got him at a crossroads, two of them splitting from the group and cutting him off at the end of an alley. 

Spells were quick to fly along with punches. Sure, Sirius could hold himself in a duel but he was used to the safety of the Hogwarts club, that focused on technique and precision, not necessarily speed. Besides all that, 4 against 1 were bad odds. 

Sirius sent a cracking snap hex at one of them, before receiving a swift knee to the stomach. He doubled over with a loud grunt, holding his belly. 

The voice broke the attention of the fighters and everything paused. 

“An Auror..” Sirius croaked, still doubled over. Though he had no idea about the nature of the identity of the intruder, the mere suggestion was enough to spook the group. 

They grabbed Sirius’ few galleons and ran off, leaving Sirius to face the mysterious person alone. 

“They took my coin. I ain’t got nothing left fer you to steal!” he yelled, deciding to play the dead goose card. Maybe it would let them know he wasn’t worth the fight.

He flashed his wand and held it weakly in front of him to see the person approaching. 

“Well shit,” he let out a laugh, even though it pained his stomach. “If it isn’t Emmeline Vagina.” He teased, suppressing his laughter. “Ow,” he rubbed his belly.

Emmeline witnessed the man fly as if they were part of a scene of a movie, if only she knew the exact meaning of one. In life, she’d had many chances of dueling, even more of attacking with spells recently learned or trained; most of these situations happened in comfort and safety, no matter anxiety made it seem like none applied to the situation. Unfortunately, she could not say the same of that moment. Literally alone, and unaware of who she hexed, the ex-Hufflepuff had to exercise a good amount of self-control by staying here, feet on the ground, not moving neither running. “This is not gonna end well, this is not gonna end well” Her mind sent her signals, it told her the many ways this minute could unfold, resulting in blood, pain, even death, perhaps; she wasn’t sure of all possible outcomes because not any positive ones were imagined now.

Gulping, the woman watched as they ran, shaken by some piece of information she failed in capturing. Whatever it was, however it affected them, she couldn’t be more grateful - or perhaps this feeling was soon to be erased, after all the man in the ground was none other than somebody who had tried - and failed - to make her life hell-ish back at Hogwarts, years before.

“Black.” Muttering the surname and almost taking a step back, it seemed even more impossible to guess a reason to stay there. Fortunately, maybe the opposite, her eyes took in the image of the wounded, and something clicked inside her. The mediwitch, not the wizard once too coward to deal with a bully - a younger, immature guy who had no idea what he was doing.

“I’m not stealing from you!” Muttering, Emmeline frowned as she walked in his direction, mouth drier than before. All of this only to be hit with another of those stupid nicknames. Funny how years later it didn’t hurt her, not nearly as much as before. “Do you want me to come back once you have a bigger penis?” Biting her lower lip, she tried her best to ignore the shock which ran through her body; the pureblood had been trained not to say these things, always polite and permissive, but Sirius… Sirius reminded her of things she wanted more than to leave behind, the desire to erase and, sometimes, an estranged feeling even to herself, fight back as well.

At least his complaint made her come back to Earth. “F-forget I said anything! And shut up, this is not gonna help me.” How difficult to fight the want to look at another direction. She needed to exam him though, even though they weren’t at the hospital and she owed him nothing (after all, he was the one who owned her a ‘thank you’, Emmeline thought after a few seconds). 

“You are not losing so much blood, but there might be some broken bones and staying here only give way to infections. We… I have to take you to the hospital. O-or anywhere I can help you… here.” Looking around, she sighed. How would she take him anywhere when there were not so many hospital posts she knew at the area?

Before the storm || Emmeline & Sirius || July, 1978

[emmelinevrp-blog]

““No one thinks you are a coward.” “I can hear them,” he said. “It is your own voice you are hearing.””

— Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed

[emmelinevrp-blog]

Before the storm || Emmeline & Sirius || July, 1978

‘Look down, walk fast, keep your mouth shut and pretend you see nothing’. These were the pieces of advice she received back at the days in Hogwarts, when she first had to make a visit to that part of the Wizarding World, so near the safety of the Diagonal Alley yet almost appearing like an entirely new world. Emmeline had never been the bravest. She was never the first to shout like the rest of her colleagues, neither the second or the third, and many times not the tenth either. Fighting had never come so easily like to those she knew, even if anger wasn’t an estranged emotion. She knew better than to look the enemies in the eye and spat, understood there was more to life than losing parts of it for the sake of acting like a warrior - she was no warrior. All she wanted was to go through life like the gift it should be, no matter more and more it made her fear.

How could she be sure of her thoughts when accepting the invitation to be part of the Order? Perhaps it was an overlooked desire, the fact that she indeed looked at all the injustice and couldn’t understand why many of it happened to people whose innocence could be easily measured and witnessed. Working as a healer hadn’t been easy since the first day, it didn’t matter many called her a natural, the truth was, and it shouted at her, many of the wounded ones were the people who didn’t know how to defend themselves - worse, the people who shouldn’t have to defend themselves. In the last few months she had barely no time to live her life besides working in the hospital, too worried for the kids, the elders, the one who came bleeding and… it was all too much sometimes. Yet she kept on going, her own fight way too silent. Somehow she had accepted the invitation, though - made it louder, a part of her knew, a scared one of all things.

All of this was going through her mind the moment she heard something that maybe she shouldn’t have. First, second, third, even the fourth rule, they said nothing of sounds.. she knew better. She knew better but couldn’t look away, but when there were screams and possibly pain. She was a healer, for Merlin’s sake - how could she not try to help?  And this was a fight. It wasn’t something she knew because of the hospital, of course not, but rather a consequence of years at Hogwarts, of provocations plus well - and badly - spent time with friends. It had to be a fight… it had to. What she didn’t know was this was no normal fight, there wasn’t a rule because how would it have in the middle of the streets? No, all she could see was a bunch of boys… kids, apparently.. all going against one.

And Emmeline froze. Like she did in so many other moments. Right there, right at the place she stood, watching as some threw spells and others punches. What if she walked to it? What if she helped and they got to her, because they were so many and she probably couldn’t take all of them down? What if they messed with her so much she would also end up needing to go to the hospital? And it wasn’t just her body that froze, but… why couldn’t she speak? It was too dry, her throat, palms shaking even if she held a wand if intensity. More shouting. More hurt. More of said guys attacking whoever it was and she couldn’t see and all she knew was this was about to end terribly and was she about to do something or maybe it would be smarter to leave and… this was too much. 

“STOP!” Her scream echoed through the once empty place, if she ever believed these streets kept empty. “Everte Statum!” Still shaking, Emmeline targeted somebody, anybody… this is what she was learning at the Order, Emmeline remembered her own self; to help whoever needed. 

But who it was? And still… had she done right by doing so?

[emmelinevrp-blog]

the-curious-weasley:

Date: Unknown; possibly September 19 Time: Unknown Location: Unknown @emmelinevrp

Arthur stumbled into the dark room. With an extra push to his back, he could feel one foot catching on something and soon gravity took over. He landed on the cold ground, letting out a painful grunt as his hands tried to break his fall. Trying his best to get back onto his feet, in case the Death Eater decided to do something, he only found that his body was unwilling to do his mind’s bidding. Luckily, he only heard footsteps walking away.

His vision was blurry, so he felt his way to a wall with his hands. Finally, he could sit up and rest. The cool wall felt nice against his back. It seemed to ease the ghost feeling of hot knives cutting into his body. They’d told him to fight one of the other captives, or else. There hadn’t been a lot of talking, but he had refused to fight anyone. Knowing that the other captive was a friend, he wasn’t going to go in fists blazing just for Death Eater amusement. Arthur was determined that he was going to resist for as long as he could. If he could, he’d get out of this without hurting anyone else - well, it would be nice if he could punch a Death Eater or two.

The Death Eaters taunted him. Think about your family, Weasley. Arthur hadn’t stopped thinking about them ever since he got to this miserable place, this nightmare. Time was not easy to tell, as there was no distinguishing light that would tell him what time of day it was, or if it was night. He wondered how long it had been that Molly was worrying about him, and how many nights their boys asked about when he was coming home. He put his head in his hands, not caring that the palms of them were scraped and stinging. All he wanted was to see his smiling wife and laughing kids, sit down with them and enjoy one of Molly’s wonderful dinners. His stomach carried a sinking feeling, and dangerous thoughts started to sprout in his head. What if I don’t see them again?

Something warm started running down his face, and he realized that they were tears. I’m losing it. This is me breaking. He could have kicked himself for being so weak. It probably hadn’t been that long since his taking, and here he was breaking like a thin twig. If any Death Eater was seeing this, then he’d for sure be dragged back out and mocked for being a coward and a weakling. Crying’s not getting you anywhere, Arthur. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He couldn’t appear weak to the Death Eaters; he had to remain strong for Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, and little Ron.

Arthur heard something shuffling. It hadn’t occurred to him that someone else would be here. Squinting to try to see better, he could just make out the person’s face. “Emmeline? They got you too?”

For the first time, it seemed her entire body was failing - shutting down like a broken machine rather than fighting as the warrior some tried convincing she could be. “Tell us.” She couldn’t see anything properly, all grey tones of colour mixing together to create something entirely disform. “Open your mouth, Vance.” Not even them were visible - a price to pay for the tears streaming, down down the table, the floor, the crimson red of an overlooked wound. “Would you rather having more of these cuts?” All she could notice was heat, yet her extremities were both cold - how could she notice the cold with a heart that jumped too fast, couldn’t stand still, pumped blood and left her dizzy? “See, we aren’t estranged to pain. We aren’t estranged to screams. We aren’t estranged to your screams. So tell us now, Emmeline.”

She couldn’t.

Shouldn’t.

Wouldn’t, even.

This is how the screaming began - no, no, this was a lie, it didn’t begin there, but hours before, when they first dragged her through the hair and left her gasping, not a second to recover. They thought her weak, the weakest - the one person ready to speak rather than to feel the pain, the torture, all of it. How could anybody be prepared for it? How could anybody ever think of themselves as capable enough to go through, to survive it? So far it had been worse than anything. Excruciating couldn’t cover, sounded more like a joke when spoken. Now she couldn’t even stand still in that damned chair, eyes too afraid to cross the sight of those who looked at her with disgust, the same people who called her traitor of blood.

She had been cheating for a long time now, this was true.

“I’m not…” Her mouth opened once, twice. She couldn’t talk. Not even with a ragged voice and a painful, yet functional throat; none of her body responded any longer. And then more of the pain. She had to be stronger than it, had to be stronger than the scream that left her mouth only to fall short.. yet it was countlessly worse than a million swords rushing through her body. This pain came from the inside, it devastated each muscle, each tissue, each damaged cell, making it worse and worse… like falling and never finding the floor, yet each millimeter feeling like a new encounter with concrete. Until they finished. Somebody dragged her again and by then she couldn’t see anything, all of her shaking, arms crossed and eyes closed, ready for a spell that would end it.

Finally they left her at a floor somewhere, and all she could was try and walk to the nearest wall, failing at the first second. The sobs - desperate, a cry for help that wouldn’t come, and deep down she knew it - started, but she couldn’t really sense any of it. No, all her brain did, all her brain could do, was relieve the recent memories, and they were the only ones. It seemed there wasn’t an Emmeline anymore, just somebody broken… she needed her conscience but it had left her body seconds after the scream.

A Hellish Place || Down the Rabbit Hole || Emmeline & Arthur