Emmeline Vance

[magnificentmeadowes]

Books are a uniquely portable magic | Dorcas & Emmeline

Dorcas stepped out of the bright light of Diagon Alley, and into the cooler, darker interior of Flourish and Blotts. She took a deep breath, inhaling the musky smells of a room full of books. As long as you didn’t go into the shop in the last few weeks before the students returned to school, there was an almost reverent hush amongst the shelves.. It was as though people automatically whispered when in the presence of books.

She took a few steps forwards, reaching her hand to run her fingers gently along the spines on the shelf nearest to the door. The shop always reminded her of times at Hogwarts, when she would just stay in the library, hidden amongst the shelves, breathing in the smells of the hundreds and hundreds of old books. The library was one of the things she missed most about Hogwarts.. Having that many books within reach.

Dorcas’ eyes were on the shelves as she wandered up the shop, examining the titles for something that jumped out at her.. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, exactly, just that she wanted something new.. Something she hadn’t read before.

The door behind her opened, startling her slightly. She had been focused on the books in front of her.. She glanced over her shoulder at the person who had entered the shop.

[murderousvance]

Emmeline was in “enemy territory” as usual--but not the usual sort of enemy territory. Instead of flitting between Order and Eaters, she was simply scouting the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. For all that she would not, of course, admit it where anyone important might hear her out of professionalism, she knew--and so did Elphard--that the larger bookstore had obtained its prestige for good reasons, and one of those reasons was that it simply sold more books. And Emmeline knew everything that was on the shelves of Selwyn’s Scrolls; she had stocked most of them herself.

At least the place was clean now, at long last, but after so many days spent tidying-up after the ugly mess in Knockturn Alley, she was sick of the place--but there was a reason Emmeline had chosen to work there too, and it wasn’t just because her cousin was an indulgent taskmaster. She simply liked books. It was hard to walk past a bookstore without popping in, and while she was sick of Selwyn’s, she wasn’t sick of Flourish and Blotts. Besides, they weren’t really the enemy--just the competition. It was a very different thing although, for the last few years, Emmeline had viewed the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters the same way she viewed Selwyn’s Scrolls and Flourish and Blotts: competitors, but not outright enemies.

(She was staring to think that she was the only person who saw it that way.)

A pile of books already stacked in her arms, Emmeline was more than happy to let the enticing reams of leather-bound paper distract her from ugly thoughts like that; she could have just perused the Malfoys’ extensive library if all she’d wanted was a new book to read, but she’d wanted a distraction. And there were few distractions as delightful as shopping for books...

But talking to friends was good, too. And there were some friends she hadn’t seen in far too long. The chime of the bell over the shop’s door caught her attention and made her look up; the elderly wizard ambling inside was of no interest to Emmeline (although he bore a disquieting resemblance to Professor Binns) but the woman standing between her and the door was. She would know the back of that head anywhere.

“Dorcas!” Emmeline practically skipped around the shelf in front of her to get to her friend. The books in her arms wobbled, almost falling, and she had to pause to catch them all--but looked back up with a grin right away, even as she shuffled her burden. “Dorcas, how are you!” It didn’t occur to Emmeline that the other witch might not be pleased to see her, at least not so publicly; they were best friends after all, so why wouldn’t she be just as happy?

[murderousvance]

Not in the Nursery || Emmeline & James

[impulsivepotter]

James made the mental note to kill Sirius the minute he saw him. Not only had he come back after days of little sleep on dirty ground and floors, James had found himself face-to-face with Severus Snape, of all people, on the lawn of Malfoy Manor. All because his best friend thought a midnight murder would be fun. It had taken a little while to find his way out of the situation with his former rival, but James had managed like he always did. He, of course, couldn’t stick around. Not unless he wanted the little snake to bring the rest of his slimy friends around to teach James a lesson.

Problem was: James didn’t know a thing about Malfoy Manor.

Even though he grew up in a Pureblood household (or so they all assumed – his mother never had any official records to her bloodline), James’ family had been on the cusp of Pureblood society. They kept friends – even some who believed in the same ideals as most of the Sacred 28 – but that didn’t mean they’d be invited to the most prestigious parties. His father choosing to bring in someone foreign – an unknown name – had nearly done it by itself. If it wasn’t for James’ mothers’ outspoken nature against the English ways of Wizarding living, the Potters might have even made the cut. Fortunately for James, his mother never hesitated in speaking out (in both English and Filipino), which meant he never had to suffer through nights of boredom with too-high collars and very few laughs.

Unfortunately, this meant he had no idea where he might be going. Or where he might find Sirius. Malfoy Manor was the biggest home James had ever seen – and it was hard not to stopping his running to admire the elaborate paintings and details of the walls and stairwells. If only each corridor didn’t feel as cold as icicles or smell like dragon dung, then James would’ve even considered it a nice home. But he couldn’t stop as he ran from corridor to corridor, turning corners without thinking. Snape would surely get the other Death Eaters – and even James Potter couldn’t fight off thirty angry men with wands.

It wasn’t until he noticed an open door that he stopped. It was only cracked open, but enough for James to push his way in (hoping to Merlin that he wasn’t dooming himself in the process). He noticed the child first and, for some reason, his mind jumped immediately to Lily’s son, Harry. This child and Harry would be around the same age, though completely different in looks. It took a moment for James to register that the boy – a Malfoy, judging by the blond hair and the horrible expression – wasn’t alone. He put his wand up instinctually, but he didn’t know what he was planning to do. If he were Sirius, Emmeline might already be dead.

Just looking at her caused the anger to rise up in James’ throat and it took everything in his power not to shout out a curse right then and there. Hadn’t that been what he’d come all the way here to stop? But – she’d killed Peter. Perhaps Sirius had a point.

“Er – “ he said instead, for once at a loss for words. But Emmeline was talking anyway, introducing James to the boy. Draco – ah, yes, Sirius had mentioned Narcissa having a child once or twice, James was sure. Draco waved at James and he couldn’t help but think was inappropriate and awkward the whole situation was. James had known he would run into Emmeline eventually – but he never expected a child in the mix.

He raise his non-wand hand up in a stiff response, but turned to Emmeline with gritted teeth, finally coming to his senses. “What’d you go and tell him my name for? Don’t you think he might want to tell Mummy and Daddy that he met James Potter while you were babysitting? Have you really switched sides that quickly that you want me killed?”

[murderousvance]

Emmeline’s first reaction to James’s complaint was to scowl and open her mouth for a sharp retort--but then she blanched as the full weight of his words sank in. She looked at Draco (and away from James) and bit her lip, but being at a loss for words had never been one of her weaknesses. It was probably only a moment or two before her tongue had sharpened itself on her teeth again and she was looking back up at him with a frown furrowing her brows. “Don’t overreact, James,” Emmeline said coolly. “You’ll upset Draco, and there’s no reason for that, is there?”

She patted the little boy comfortingly on his knee; he didn’t stop fussing, but his nervous squirming quieted. “There’s no reason for melodrama,” Emmeline continued in the same level tone, firm but quiet--not yelling, or even snapping, although she wanted to snap at him, if only because he had snapped at her. “Nobody is going to be killed just because you got lost. It’s not like you came to the nursery on purpose after all, is it?” Her words were phrased like a question, but the grim glare she fixed on him held no doubt. For one, she couldn’t imagine James Potter--reckless as he was--willingly putting anybody under the age of three in danger; secondly, she couldn’t imagine James Potter--reckless as he was--putting the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy in danger, knowing how viciously they, and their relatives, would surely react.

The forced-calm she was maintaining for Draco’s sake did nothing to stop her hands curling into fists on her own thighs once she let go of the little boy. She fixed James with a narrow-eyed glare and added crossly, “And I hadn’t switched sides at all, thanks for asking. Why do you think I’m up here, and not down with everybody else talking business?” Emmeline sniffed, not the dignified sort of sniff that both of Draco’s parents probably practiced in front of the mirror, but an angry huff of air that more resembled a child sulking than anything else. “I came here because I needed to go somewhere and Lucius offered. Just as a friend, not as anything political.” Emmeline knew James wasn’t the sort who had ever been good at keeping the two things separate, but surely he knew that she was--he’d been harping on about her friendships enough lately, from what she’d heard. “It wasn’t like I could stay where I was, was it?” she continued, voice hard, making sure he knew who was responsible for her current location. “I wasn’t exactly safe there, was I?”

Of course, she didn’t exactly feel safe here right now, either--but that was for the same reason, because of the same people, that had she’d left the Order’s safe house in the first place. Emmeline had been sure that she wouldn’t have to see either James Potter or Sirius Black--or anyone else in the Order, for that matter--until she chose to see them; until they’d had a chance to calm down and come to their senses. Who could have ever expected to see James here? There was a sick, tight feeling in the back of Emmeline’s throat; it was fear but more than that, it was helplessness. She couldn’t fight back, not without maybe getting Draco killed, and that would hardly do; while Emmeline wasn’t exactly selfless she also wasn’t such a monster that she would callously risk a child’s life like that, and besides, that would be a terrible way to repay the Malfoys for taking her in and offering her a place of--supposed--sanctuary. Emmeline was not accustomed to not fighting back; it left a bitter taste in her mouth that almost entirely obscured the metallic tang of fear.

Maybe that was what made her petulant enough to add, “I’ve never wanted anyone killed. Turns out, though, when you confront a traitor and threaten to expose them, they don’t always react sensibly.” Emmeline met James’s eyes firmly, then glanced to little Draco (frowning now as he watched them both, and chewing on his thumb; if they didn’t calm down and start entertaining him again there would doubtless be a tantrum soon) and back again quickly, hoping that he would follow her gaze and remember that they weren’t alone and any fighting would hurt more than just the two of them. “When a person goes for their wand, what else can anyone do but reply in kind?” she asked, turning her hands palm-up to show they were empty. She longed to grab her wand from its holster up her sleeve but if the debacle with Peter Pettigrew had taught her nothing else, she had at least learned how dangerous the consequences of meeting an accusation with a hex could be, and the child at her side didn’t deserve to be caught-up in a duel--or a death.

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

[tedblack-soulmate-blog]

“And what’s more entertaining than trying to get a reaction out of someone?” Ted replied, he found himself relaxing around her despite the strangeness of their situation. Her banter was non-threatening or at the very least it seemed that way. Ted knew he should probably keep his walls up around the witch, she was a traitor, murderer, pureblood and guest of his in-laws and these traits didn’t exactly lend themselves to him trusting her. But being reserved was not only exhausting but boring. Ted was enjoying the conversation and he wouldn’t end it just because Emmeline might get him in trouble. “Though, of course, I try the opposite. See how far I can go without getting a reaction. It’s a much more amusing game in my opinion.” Ted spoke honestly, shaking his head a bit, ignoring her comment about people being stupid. “I should have guessed you were too self-absorbed to try and make people think. Very true of you to your house, you know. Not bothering to try and share wisdom with the stupid plebeians.”

Ted couldn’t help it, he busted out laughing at her innuendo even though it wasn’t that funny. Humor was hard to come by these days and Ted latched on to it whenever he found it. Chuckling, Ted replied with an air of gratitude. “Considering I have a daughter, I think it’s plain that I know the 5 Ws of, ah, ‘putting it into a witch.’ But your concern for my sex life is touching, I’m moved by your compassion.”

[murderousvance]

"That sounds boring to me,” Emmeline replied, “but to each their own I suppose. Personally I can’t imagine how boring my life would be if I tried to live it all neatly inside the lines so as not to ever upset or startled anyone, but I guess it would be more difficult to play it that way--I certainly won’t pretend that my way is hard,” she admitted readily, and grinned. Emmeline didn’t bother to point out that hard-work was hardly a Ravenclaw trait either; he’d been the one to bring up their old house in the first place, so he should certainly know that list as well as she did. “Hey, if they wanted to think, they’d be doing it already,” she pointed out, quite reasonably she thought. “It isn’t my job to hold their hands and lead them to enlightenment. Of course,” she added with a shrug, “that’s sort of your whole purpose in life, isn’t it? More or less. So I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised to hear you speaking in favor of helping inspire folks to reach beyond their natural talents. Frankly I’m perfectly happy leaving them to their own devices,” Emmeline smirked coolly, “but as I recall, people always did say used to talk about how nice you were, didn’t they? That was never what they said about me, for some reason.”

She grinned when he laughed, pleased with herself as much as with his reaction. So he could certainly be startled by lewd comments, but that might be as much because he didn’t expect to hear such things from someone like her as due to any standards of his own; well, if he thought that Emmeline Vance fit the standards of propriety so expertly held up by the Black Sisters, Ted only had himself to blame for making assumptions. “Well I’m a compassionate person, so I try not to presume any such thing,” Emmeline answered, her expression mock-serious and her tone as level as she could make it when her eyes danced with mirth. “Maybe Andromeda is just really good at giving instructions. You know--explicit ones. I have no way to know whether or not you deserve any credit for little Nymphadora’s existence, or if the lion’s share of that should go to her alone.”

[inamatus-black]

In for the Kill | Self para

After effectively losing Remus on the landing above the staircase (oh fuck, James was really going to kill him now) Sirius took it upon himself to charge on, rather than sit around and wait to be found. The staircase had been exactly where he’d said it would be, and so it stood to reason that at least a few of his other memories would be correct as well. After looking into two empty rooms however he was already bored and frustrated. He hoped that Remus was having more luck, or that he’d turned around and gone to wait outside, maybe even given up and gone home. That would be preferable to Remus getting caught by any number of Death Eaters probably wandering the manor.

If he was being honest with himself, Sirius was almost glad that he and Remus had been split up, and might have instigated the change anyway if it hadn’t happened soon. As much as he loved being on an adventure again with Remus, his friend had enough on his hands without helping Sirius pull off a murder. And murder was what it was – no matter how much he told himself it was justice. Maybe the two could coexist in the same act. But he was going to kill Vance, if he ever found her, and Remus didn’t need to be there when the deed was done, he didn’t need to see that. He’d done enough by coming with Sirius in the first place.

With no other real direction to go other than forwards, Sirius twirled his wand in his fingers as he started down the long hallway he’d been faced with. He’d been so full of hope and determination when he’d suggested this venture to Remus back at the Order safe house but now it seemed almost impossible that he would be able to find Vance in this place, if she was even here. Sirius could hear the sounds of the party but they seemed so far away compared to where he was, and so far the hallway he’d taken had only led him to two empty rooms and a storeroom of some kind.

He was just about to try another door when he heard footsteps approaching from around the corner. Sirius froze. They were approaching too fast and he was only halfway to the next door. There was no way that he could hide fast enough and so he gripped his wand in his hand and turned to meet the oncoming stranger.

The last person he’d expected to run into, though he’d hoped to, was Emmeline Vance. She looked disheveled but that was the only thought that Sirius had before his wand was raised and pointing at the woman. He’d barely processed the sight of her before he was firing a spell at her. It wasn’t the one he’d planned on using but it was the first that had come to mind in a panic. It did enough, seemingly knocking the wind out of her for a moment.

“Fuck,” Sirius spat, shaking his head and gathering his composure. By the time he’d pointed his wand again, Emmeline had already hit him with something that made his arm ache and drop to his side from the weight of it.

“Sirius, just listen-”

“SHUT UP!” He roared, trying to lift his wand arm but it felt like stone beside him. Emmeline watched him for a second before she ducked into a nearby room. Sirius cursed again and followed her; swapping his wand to his left hand as he went.

She was waiting for him in the room but he ducked her oncoming spell, barely pausing to consider what she’d flung at him. He cast a stunning spell in her direction. It missed and hit a chest of drawers next to her. He snarled at the inaccuracy but still couldn’t use his right arm. He tried to steady his left hand as he aimed something explosive at her. That missed as well.

Emmeline took the opportunity to hit him with something. He moved to retaliate but found that every movement made him sick to his stomach. His head was becoming blurry and it was getting hard to focus on the woman in front of him. Sirius crumpled to the floor as he tried to stave off the waves of nausea, left hand still curled tight around his wand but unable to point it at anything. He thought he heard Emmeline say something but he couldn’t pick it out over the fuzz of his mind.

By the time Sirius could focus on his surroundings again, Emmeline was gone and someone was knocking on the door.

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

[strange-ledolphus-deactivated20]

Rodolphus couldn’t help but laugh. The girl was persistent, if nothing else. She didn’t have quite the amount of finesse she thought she did, though. “My, my, Emmeline. First I’m just a pretty face; now I’m a cultured man who keeps only the best company?” He arched an eyebrow at her, setting his cup back down onto its saucer. “Your interrogation skills need work. I could help you with those.” Though he smiled, his tone suggested something more sinister. Her next comments struck something of a nerve in him, although it was nigh on impossible to tell. Emmeline spoke so casually about befriending scum and throwing every opportunity she has ever had back in the face of those who gave them to her. It was an insult that she would joke about it so easily. Still, there was little edge to his voice when he spoke again. He wasn’t interested in an argument over breakfast. He sounded positively cheerful as he answered her back.

“I’m sure your mother has been disappointed all your life, Emmeline. One more blow won’t kill her.” Rodolphus folded the paper at last, setting it down upon the table. It was his turn to show interest, tilting his head and studying her. “I am curious, however: how is it that you’re so incapable of holding onto desired company? And I’m not just referring to ourselves; even when you aligned yourself to their lot, you couldn’t make yourself content there for too long. Why do you think that is, Emmeline?”

[murderousvance]

Emmeline laughed right back, unoffended. “We’re sitting in Lucius Malfoy’s house, and you’re telling me that ‘pretty faces’ don’t equate with cultural refinement? Better not let him hear you say that,” she grinned, then added in her best imitation of her haughtiest aunt, “Besides, you’ve just said that helping me form my little club would be beyond you--or perhaps beneath you; how can I now accept your assistance in cultivating the fine arts of interrogation? No, I can see that I shall simply have to muddle along on my own, more’s the pity.”

She broke into a smirk again, the snooty attitude dissolving, at his mention of her mother. “I do my best,” she replied drily, “but I fear her standards have never been high enough for me to have managed constant disappointment. I do keep trying though; even we eagles must show some ambitions, no?“ The rest of his question was more serious, and she debated shrugging it off with some quip--but Rodolphus was intelligent, and she did so like lively and thoughtful conversations. “Perhaps I just hate being pigeonholed,” Emmeline said. (Like most of the former students of Ravenclaw Tower, at least those who delighted in repartee, she had a whole host of bird-puns under her sleeves.) “Life gets dull if it’s just the same thing all the time; I’m too curious to be content with any one thing for very long I guess. Life’s more fun when it’s got spice, when you don’t know all the answers or all the steps, when there’s always something new in it.” Realizing she was soon going to cross the line into either lecturing or babbling, Emmeline stopped herself with a smile. “Anyway, I guess I just like knowing what the grass is like on every side of the fence, not just one or two. Don’t you worry about getting stifled sometimes? I’d think being the ‘noble son and heir’ could get pretty smothering.”

[murderousvance]

1. drunkfic || Sirius Black

They weren’t singing the same song, but that didn’t stop either of them from belting it out at the top of their lungs. They weren’t singing something that complied with the Statute either, but who listened to drunks anyway? Besides, they were both pure-bloods; they didn’t know any drinking songs that made Muggle references. Not well enough to sing when they were both this plastered, anyway. And they were plastered. If they hadn’t been holding each other up, their stumbling, weaving path would have dumped them both in the gutter long before now--and might yet do so.

They had the look of people who were expecting an appointment with a gutter, Sirius Black and Emmeline Vance, and not just because they were shit-faced drunk. She sported a black eye and a split lip; he had had both of his eyes blackened, and they each held bloody-knuckles out with pride.

Considering that less than two hours ago they had been splitting those knuckles open across one another’s chins and cheekbones, they weren’t doing too badly, really. Although any watchers--or listeners--might wish they were still fighting, rather than singing. Or whatever one might call that caterwauling.

It had started with curry; by now it was unlikely that either of them would be able to remember that, but that’s where it had started. It had gone well at first--surprisingly well, for two such traditionally-reared pure-bloods--with a final dish that, if not exactly like what one would get if one were to order something by the same name from a competent restaurant, had at least been both interesting and palatable and had born enough resemblance to curry that one could trace it to the same family tree--in fact, it had gone well right up until they had tried to clean up. Emmeline had forgotten to unplug the rice cooker when she’d put it in the sink; Sirius had tried to quench the angry sparks with a jet of water from his wand; things had gotten out of hand from there.

The Howler from Dumbledore over their destruction of an Order safe house had set them on the path that had led to the street-singing, with a detour along the way to drink away their shame that had turned into a shouting match, and then a slugging match, when they had argued over who was more to blame.

Who would have thought that Muggle liquor had such a kick to it? Or that Muggle curry could turn such interesting colors when vomited into a gutter?

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

[tedblack-soulmate-blog]

“Always trying to push the limits.” Ted shook his head, bemusedly. He remembered her from their Hogwarts days. How couldn’t he? She was the type of person who you remembered even if you had only ever spoken to find out the time of day. “Always wanting to shock people. I wonder…” He leaned closer towards her, truly curious but also playing along with the conversation tone she had set. “Do you want to make people think? Or do you just want people to look at you?”

Ted simply watched her as she spoke, keeping his expression pleasant but blank. “Of course. They’ve known you longer.” He agreed, following her complicated dance around the true reason why his in-laws disliked him. Emmeline was basically the epitome of that old saying and in his mind he adapted it to fit her. ‘You can take the witch out of pureblood society but you can’t take pureblood society out of the witch.’ And he couldn’t help but find the way she directed this conversation to get precisely what she wanted hilarious. Ted shrugged, not willing to really give her any information. “I could have guessed people called him Lucy. It’s not a very creative nickname. I owe you nothing, Vance.”

[murderousvance]

“That’s me,” Emmeline said and grinned, not at all offended--or abashed. “I just like entertaining myself,” she replied easily. “I may not be a peacock like some but I’ve never found it very hard to get noticed if one tries, and I have learned by now that it’s a pretty pointless endeavor to try and make people think if that’s not something they’re accustomed to.” Her voice was dry; let him decide who she was talking about, if he wanted. Emmeline didn’t really have anyone specific in mind (there were so many worthy subjects to choose from) but she made sure her smirk was sly enough to imply there was someone particular whose lack of coherent thought had failed to impress her.

“There’s guessing and then there’s knowing something for a fact,” Emmeline replied, “and they’re hardly on the same level. Especially when it comes to nicknames that your brother-in-law would rather forget he ever enjoyed. If you can’t find a way to put that information to good use, don’t blame me.” She raised her eyebrows coolly and added, “As far as what you can and cannot put in and take out of witches, I’ll leave that up to your wife to discuss with you.” The Muggle-borns that she knew were generally a lot harder to shock with lewd commentary than her pure-blood friends; not that they weren’t just as lewd, or generally even more so, than any Muggle-borns but they preferred more delicate phrasing for explicit subjects, at least when in polite company. She wanted to see where Ted fell on that spectrum. She didn’t remember him well enough from school to guess, and for a woman who was used to knowing just about everybody in her life from before the age of ten, that uncertainty made him interesting.

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

[tedblack-soulmate-blog]

“So tell me… are you enjoying your stay at my sister-in-law’s? Her home is far nicer than mine, much larger but I’ve never been fond of it. It’s all a bit… old fashioned.” Ted said, smiling tightly. He wasn’t stupid, for all his blatant denial and conscience squashing, Ted was aware of the things that happened to “guests” at his other sister-in-law’s home. The Lestranges were a certain brand of host; but as of yet, Ted wasn’t sure how the Malfoys compared. Emmeline certainly didn’t look like a typical “guest” but then again, she was hardly a typical witch.

“I can’t share that kind of thing with you.” Ted replied easily. “Too much of a risk. Sometimes I think they might like you more than they like me, you know.”

[murderousvance]

“Of course I am.” Emmeline wasn’t sure if he was fishing on behalf of her hosts, his wife, or just asking to be polite; either way she could answer openly and honestly because aside from the personal issues and uncertainties she was working through, she really was enjoying her temporary residence. “They’ve made me feel right at home And I like old-fashioned,” she added airily, “it’s so much easier to cause a stir by doing something just an eentsy-bit tawdry when you’ve got dignified, proper, old-fashioned surroundings.” Her grin was sharp and wicked, playful but just a little too toothy to qualify as innocent.

“I imagine I’ve always been closer to them than you,” Emmeline explained cheerfully, “for all that you married into the family; we practically shared classes growing up, Lucius and Narcissa and I; of course they’ll still like me better.” As if that explained it--as if only their ages linked them as childhood friends, and Ted was an outcast from all that just because he was older. To help take any sting from what her words might mean Emmeline continued with a wink, “It’s not everybody who gets to call him ‘Lucy’ without paying for it, you know. Given that, I think you might as well tell me your story. After all, I’ve just shared his boyhood nickname, so now you owe me a tidbit, and we can consider it an equal exchange. It’ll be our little secret, go on.”

[tedblack-soulmate-blog]

We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.

Andrea Gibson

They enter the Ravenclaw Tower at the same time. Tonks and Vance. And the entire common room goes silent, everyone holding their breath, hoping one - or perhaps both - of them will do something interesting. Even the tiniest thing might be considered worthy of spreading around in the the changing rooms later. Just yesterday he had overheard someone gossiping about the way he combed his hair. After a few seconds of complete embarrassment, everyone slides back into groups and begin whispering to each other. Ted grimaces at Vance, who nods and offers him a salute before they go their separate ways.

Ted Tonks is is 16 years old and there’s not a human being in the world he loves more than Emmeline Vance. This isn’t true of course, he barely knows Emmeline, he isn’t even 100% sure what she’s calling herself now. The castle was abuzz with correct pronouns and alternative names such as Emmett or Emile or simply M - Bertha Jorkins had sworn up and down that it was Jeremiah. As a whole Hogwarts was accepting of Emmeline Vance changing her identity to a masculine one but there were, of course, dirty jokes and slurs whispered between classes or shouted across the Great Hall. Ted stayed out of it mostly, she - or he? maybe they? - were a couple years younger and their paths rarely crossed outside of them being in the same house.

But every time Ted heard someone gossip about Vance his heart leapt with joy and he fell a bit more in love. Because if they were talking about Vance they weren’t talking about him.

About a week before Vance came out, Ted and Andromeda had made their relationship public and come clean about their soulmarks. Vance being a boy didn’t put a halt to the gossip about him, of course, but it helped. If people were lending Vance boy clothes then they weren’t writing “mudblood” all over his textbooks in red ink. 

Schoolmates of all kinds still glared at him and insulted him openly. Gerard Reed, a muggleborn Hufflepuff in his year had dragged him behind the greenhouses today to give him a beating. Because how dare he play “their” game! Didn’t he know he was a disgrace to the muggleborn cause, going along with the purist belief system? Their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that year, a pureblood, had asked Andromeda if she needed help “taking care of her mudblood parasite.” Ted knew that the magical community would be talking about he and Andromeda with shock and awe in their voices until long after they were dead. But Ted was still grateful that fate had given Hogwarts a little something to distract them.

murderousvance

(via tedblack-soulmate)

[murderousvance]

Not in the Nursery || Emmeline & James

Emmeline came from a large family. She was a lowly side-branch, often overlooked and entirely extraneous of course, which was how she could so easily get away with doing what she wanted without any concern for family duty--but it did mean that she was quite accustomed to dealing with children, despite having none or her own nor any inclination to change that fact any time soon, if ever. But she was good with children, sometimes much to their parents’ annoyance because she was a little bit reckless and had never learned to lie or coddle someone just because they were young, and she liked them well enough. When Lucius had asked her if she minded just “popping upstairs for a moment to check on dear Draco,” Emmeline hadn’t minded; it was true that as the hosts it would have been unseemly for Lucius or Narcissa to duck-out on the party, and as a houseguest it was the least Emmeline could do for the Malfoys--but she also knew that it was an excuse to get her out of the way so the other guests could talk about the things they’d really come to dinner to discuss away from her ears.

The fact that Lucius knew it was a transparent excuse, and didn’t make any attempt to hide the ruse, made it bearable; that and the fact that Emmeline had already learned how much the Malfoys doted on their little boy and knew that flimsy excuse that it was, Lucius was also at least a little bit genuine in his desire to make sure his son wasn’t bored or fussing under the watchful eyes of the House Elves assigned to guard his comfort tonight while mummy and daddy were trapped by business. So Emmeline had given a crooked smile, not bothering to hide the fact that she knew it was a transparent excuse too, and agreed in a voice that would have curdled her teeth if she wasn’t so used to social games, and made her excuses to the roomful of people who knew exactly why she was being gotten out of the way and knew she knew it, too.

Still, for a not-quite-three-year-old Draco was a clever little thing, and Emmeline did like playing with him. It was past his bedtime by this point, but he almost never got tucked in by anyone other than mummy or daddy or both unless it really couldn’t be avoided, so when his parents hosted parties he got to stay up late. It made him fussy, but Emmeline was used to fussy children; she’d just left a roomful of them behind to come up to the nursery. A bit of marzipan in the shape of a chubby owl won smiles from Draco again (Emmeline thoroughly approved of the way the Malfoys indulged their son’s sweet-tooth; it made life much easier for her and, she’d already learned, for Regulus although he tended to go a bit too far even for Draco’s indulgent parents) and Emmeline tried to teach him one of the simpler clapping games she’d learned from her Muggle-born friends. It might have been easier if she remembered all the rules herself, but Draco was only two; he couldn’t tell she wasn’t being consistent.

They were both giggling--Draco’s high-pitched and bubbly, hers lower and quiet--when the sound of a door opening made Emmeline turn. She was a little surprised; surely the business under discussion couldn’t have been sorted out this early, and she couldn’t picture either of the Malfoys slipping-out so early to check on their son, especially when they’d just sent Emmeline off to do just that for them--but that was nothing compared to her surprise when she recognized the dark-haired figure in the doorway. Her jaw dropped and her hands froze; Draco kept clapping until he realized she wasn’t playing any more, then he too looked up curiously. Something cold crawled up Emmeline’s spine. She was seated cross-legged on the floor, facing a toddler, in a house full of trained duelists who were all too far away. There were no elves in sight; with Emmeline here they had probably slipped away to clean something or get Draco’s bed ready for him. She was alone with a baby while a man who was definitely a trespasser, a man who was supposedly a friend and ally, stared down at her. She wasn’t sure she had ever felt so helpless or uncertain.

Her eyes flicked to Draco, then back up to James. In a voice that was very, very calm, she said slowly, “Fancy meeting you here. Tonight. In the nursery.” She swallowed and managed a thin smile. “What a surprise. Draco, why don’t you say hello to...” Emmeline’s mind raced, running through family trees at record speed; too fast to be sure she’d got it right, but wanting to say something to underscore the fact that there was a child in the room with her. “To your second-cousin James Potter.” Obedient, Draco waved a chubby hand in a child’s staccato wave, although he still looked confused by the intrusion of a new face into his sheltered life without mummy or daddy standing at his side to say everything was okay. Emmeline couldn’t say it for him; she wasn’t either of his parents, and she had never learned to lie to children. The weight of her wand under her sleeve was suddenly as heavy as stones.

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

[strange-ledolphus-deactivated20]

Rodolphus snorted, allowing the first comment to slide without much of a retort. Emmeline Vance was a sharp-tongued, quick-witted girl from what he knew of her, and he was willing to wager that her snappy comebacks in an argument masked an even greater skill - to respond quickly on the battlefield. He had seen far too many gargoyles freeze up in the heat of a fight; she would be a very useful asset to have around, once they could be sure she would be around for good. Until then, she certainly made for a good course of playful banter over breakfast. Her bark impressed him as much as her bite.

“Well, everyone does need a hobby,” he agreed, dropping his eyes back to the Prophet. He made a contemplative noise as he scanned the next page. “I couldn’t possibly suggest anyone of the sort. Not the kind of company I keep, Ms. Vance. I’m only a pretty face, after all.” His tone was still level, casual, the irony unlikely to be lost on either of them. He reached for his coffee, pausing just before the cup touched his lips. “Of course, you could always place an advertisement in the paper. According to yourself, they seem to leave the more dangerous details out - you may actually manage to make a few friends.”

[murderousvance]

Emmeline couldn’t resist; could never resist. For all her intellect and quick wits, the one lesson she had never been able to learn was when to keep her mouth shut. So she leaned forward and said blandly, “That’s true. So what’s yours, then? Your favorite hobby, I mean; a wizard as cultured as you must have many.” Her grin was both unabashed and unrepentant.

“No?” she asked innocently in response to that bald-faced nonsense. “Pity,” she continued with a sigh, “I’d always heard you kept only the best company, so I had so hoped that you would be able to recommend some people of quality. I suppose I shall have to make-do with what I get from half-detailed newspaper advertisements then, although since it was your suggestion it will be your fault when I fall in with bad company and pick up inappropriate habits.” Since by Rodolphus’s standards that was pretty much exactly what she had done after her graduation from Hogwarts, Emmeline was interested to hear his reply to that. “Mother will be so disappointed,” she added with a mournful shake of her head that did nothing to quell the smirk flickering at the corner of her mouth.

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

[tedblack-soulmate-blog]

That may or may not be the most twisted thing I’ve heard all week. And considering that it’s me talking… that’s saying quite a bit.

[murderousvance]

“Oh? Heard a lot of interesting gossip lately, is that what you’re telling me?” Emmeline asked, raising her eyebrows in something that was half-curiosity, half-challenge. She knew very well that the kind of gossip Edward Black was likely to be privy to would hardly qualify as the ordinary stuff. “Well go on then, you can’t just drop a tidbit like that and not expand on the story. Spill.”

[impulsivepotter]

Blood Red Summer | James&Emmeline

[impulsivepotter]

At her tone, James felt anger bubble up at the pit of his stomach. How could she be mad at him when all he’s done was try to help her? Sure, he fucked up the surprise factor, but he also helped her out of an unforgivable and gave her protection afterwards. It wasn’t his fault if she was too stupid to look before he shot out a spell. Pushing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to prevent him from lashing out – now was certainly not the time, what with Emmeline still fighting and the other Death Eaters bound to wake any minute – James ran over the desk in the corner of the room. He wasn’t positive that the ledger would still be hidden in one of the drawers, but it had be left there before the safe house was compromised.

He wasn’t looking at Emmeline but, by the sounds of it, she was doing alright for herself. Finally, he thought bitterly. Fighting with her hadn’t been unpleasant – until she’d taken whatever anger she was holding in out on him for no bloody reason. He was having trouble keeping his own anger in check after being snapped at.

Opening one drawer at a time, James threw the papers and ink bottles and whatever else that wasn’t important around the room. It couldn’t get any more destroyed and it was unlikely they’d ever be back. He still had three drawers to go when he noticed it – the book was small, black, and leather bound and had an ink stain edging around the corners – and he picked it up, triumphant. At least they’d done something right.

Turning around to show Emmeline, James only caught the last glimpse of her battle with the remaining Death Eater. Emmeline was standing over the robed woman with an odd expression on her face, wand pointed out, and looking curiously as the woman tried to fight her way out of the bubble encasing her head. It was a disturbing sight and James froze, looking in horror to Emmeline who seemed to only have eyes for the Death Eater slowly losing consciousness. In hindsight, he should’ve stopped it before the Death Eater stopped struggling, but no one had prepared him for this – for the look on Emmeline’s face that made him wonder if she was actually enjoying herself.

He forced himself to snap out of it as she spoke to him, though the anger in his stomach had turned to one of uneasiness at the aftermath of the sight before him. At her question, he held up the ledger in her hand. “I already found it. While you were – uh – battling.”  He said the word carefully because that had been no battle.

“Guess we’d better go. But, before we do, drop the attitude, alright? I don’t know what happened before and you don’t have to tell me. But I’m not the enemy here.” It was a bold thing to say to someone who James had just seen nearly kill a person, but he couldn’t help but bark it out anyway. If that was how Emmeline treated her enemies, then James didn’t want her to think he was one. He reminded himself not to get on her bad side.

[murderousvance]

James didn’t look happy. So what; she wasn’t exactly brimming with happiness herself. Emmeline scowled back at him. “Excuse me?” she demanded. “What ‘attitude’ would that be?” She folded her arms across her chest, a belligerent position even if she hadn’t still had her wand in her hand--but not exactly a threat; she just wasn’t going to pocket her wand when they might be surrounded by Death Eaters any moment. “Look, I didn’t ask for your help, did I? Not my fault not everybody’s going to happy at the fact you’ve got some kind of savior complex, or whatever.” Emmeline knew she was being unfair; they’d been fighting together so it had clearly been only natural for James to try and help; he was used to being part of a team, he and his three little friends. She shouldn’t be cross with him just because she wasn’t, and hadn’t planned for him to be, and had gotten hurt because of it.

But her head ached and her cuts stung and she was tired. Being Crucio’’ed had never left her this exhausted when she’d been researching it in school (on her own time of course; not even Defense Against the Dark Arts had required--or would have permitted--its students to do hands-on research into the Unforgivables, which of course was why a curious Ravenclaw like her hadn’t been able to resist the lessons) but now she felt like she wanted to go home and sleep for a week. She sighed; she was even--almost--too tired to argue with James. “Just forget it, okay?” Emmeline suggested tiredly. “We got what we came for, we didn’t get too badly hurt, and we’re probably both facing a lecture from Dumbledore as thanks for our success. Let’s just...go get that over with.”

She shook her head over him and led the way toward the door, only half-caring at this point if he followed. Let him go ahead and linger, dawdle until more Death Eaters came or these three recovered and freed themselves; he would only have himself to blame, and she wasn’t afflicted by any urges to save people from their own mistakes. Emmeline glared at the treacherous step and made a point of stepping on it--hard--as she limped out the door.

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

[strange-ledolphus-deactivated20]

“Mmm. I’m all full up on thought at the moment, actually. But thank you for the observation, Emmeline.” Rodolphus looked up from his own copy of the Prophet, spread neatly upon the table beside his plate, to catch her gaze. His tone was dry and matter-of-fact, but not unkind.

He was slowly adjusting to her presence here. Malfoy Manor was a place of respite for him, somewhere to disappear to when the “residents” in his own home started to set his teeth on edge. He needed time away to clear his head and take a break, and he found it difficult to do trapped in his own house. The downsides of bringing one’s work home with them, eh?

When Caradoc Dearborn had been stuck in his basement, Rodolphus took to having at least one meal a day in the Manor. He’d paid Lucius back for his hospitality, of course; several cases of French wine from the Lestrange vineyards in The Médoc and a very healthy investment in Malfoy Apothecary. More than enough, he thought, now that Emmeline Vance was prowling the halls free of charge. Though there were other reasons for that venture of kindness, he knew.

“Perhaps you should start a private investigation into the matter,” he added, still speaking in a serious, level tone. “I’m sure you’d find wonderful company amongst those who murder the people they dislike. Perhaps, you could even start a club together.” He smiled. Dry humour was a favourite of his.

[murderousvance]

Emmeline grinned to herself; she had always liked Rodolphus, in the distant sort of way that one liked a wizard who moved in the same social circles as oneself but who was both older and witty. It wasn’t exactly admiration, but it wasn’t anything as warm or comfortable as friendship. She did very much like his snark though, so the dry comment about thought amused her.

She retorted in kind: “Well, you’ve always been more of a pretty face than a deep thinker, haven’t you? I’m not surprised you’ve reached your fill, although it’s a shame it’s happened so early in the morning.” She gave him a very sweet smile. Emmeline had missed the way that so many of the pure-blood set floated through one another’s homes; considered themselves family as long as there was the slightest tie and the slightest interest and simply made themselves at home; exchanged goods and secrets and gossip and favors like it was a fine market instead of a dinning room. The Order behaved in similar fashion, their safe houses being a communal space, but it wasn’t quite the same, and Emmeline had missed this. Besides, meals were always livelier when one of the Lestranges (or more) were there to join-in (and much more amusing--for her at least--when Regulus was there, for all that she couldn’t help fidgeting with her scars at the sight of him now).

“Perhaps I will,” Emmeline said lightly, refusing to let him see her flinch at his casual use of the word murder. “It’s been so long since I had cute little hobbies like that,” she added, striving to match his tone even as her stomach twisted with uncertainty. A little bit of discomfort wasn’t about to interrupt her verbal repartee though; blood and broken bones couldn’t do that. Emmeline enjoyed that sort of back-and-forth too much to do anything but bat her eyelashes and ask, “Do you have any recommendations for people you think would enjoy an invitation to join?”

[murderousvance]

Convenient Corpses

“So the Prophet says there are seven dead...but it doesn’t say how they died. Given the explosion’s location, what do you think the odds are that they actually died from the blast compared to someone taking the opportunity to do away with somebody they didn’t like without it looking suspicious?"

“It’s food for thought at least...”

[murderousvance]

56. we are drift compatible || James Potter & Emmeline Vance

When the monsters came out of the water, everybody had to admit that maybe those old wives’ tales about “soulmates” had had a point--even if it hadn’t been quite the one that anybody expected. It wasn’t anything to do with happy endings, or even with somebody’s “one true love,” but rather who one could fight with--who one could drift with.

Emmeline hadn’t hesitated to volunteer, or course; Emmeline never hesitated to do anything, especially if it meant she could learn something new and do something nobody had ever done before. While there were other jaeger pilots, and plenty of pilots making names for themselves before she made it into a cockpit, being one still put a person in a singular position--of sorts. There was nothing “singular” about life as a jaeger pilot of course; everything became about the pair. Her own partner was the last person she’d have expected, too: a small, quiet boy, who seemed to only be there because all of his friends had come and he hadn’t wanted to left behind. But for whatever reason, she and Peter Pettigrew had been able to drift, so Emmeline had shrugged and got on with her new life--until Peter died.

People said it was her fault, wasn’t her fault; Emmeline knew she’d gotten him killed but it wasn’t until she and James Potter got into a knock-down drag-out bar fight over the matter that she decided it didn’t much matter either way. Peter was dead and she was no longer a pilot. Except she wasn’t the only one unattached after the Hawaii Disaster, and the one thing she and James had both discovered while they were pounding the crap out of each other was that they had a lot more in common than being two of the few to survive that bloodbath without their partners.

You didn’t have to like a person to drift with them; sometimes hate worked just as well. His hate, her guilt; his grief, her spite. They weren’t a pair that anyone would have chosen on purpose, but there was no denying that they worked well together. Even their head mechanic (James’s only surviving friend of the four boys who had gone off to save the world and fight monsters together), Remus, said they were uncannily in tune when in their jaeger.

Out of the cockpit was another matter, of course. But out of the cockpit the only monsters they could fight were each other and themselves. James and Emmeline both agreed, it was easier to face a kaiju.

[murderousvance]

Sweeping Up at Selwyn’s || Emmeline & Andromeda

[dromedanoir]

Bringing a child so close to the scene of an attack was inadvisable at best, but Andromeda couldn’t very well leave her at home with the house-elf, Regulus was difficult to get hold of, a sporadic babysitter, and leaving her with Narcissa was not an option. Only at her most desperate would she subject her daughter to Narcissa’s judging gaze. She could have arranged to have Dora spend time with someone from the other side of her family, but she simply didn’t want to. Andromeda wanted her daughter by her side. Her knowledge of the muggle world and all its dangers was sparse. Convinced the only way she could ensure the safety of her daughter was by keeping her in sight, Andromeda brought Dora with her.

Diagon Alley was likely the safest place to be, in any case. Security must be high. The chaos had been subdued. There wouldn’t be another attack in the area for a while. Andromeda would have to be a fool to think she could protect Nymphadora from the war. She was her child after all, she bore the name Black; she was born into the war, and she was a dangerous contradiction, a daughter of love and destiny and yet everything her family disapproved of, a halfblood and - adding insult to injury - a metamorphmagus.

When people spoke directly to Nymphadora, Andromeda was suspicious. Usually they targeted her daughter to mock and degrade. Andromeda’s fingertips found the top of Dora’s head, smoothing back her soft hair. Emmeline seemed quite taken with her daughter compared to some, but where her daughter was concerned Andromeda didn’t trust easily. 

“Dora,” she said, quietly, to her daughter. “Would you like to choose a book from the shelves? Something for daddy to read to you later.”

Nymphadora looked uncertain; she was growing up too quickly, her attention not so easily diverted elsewhere. Eventually her excitement about the prospect of a new story before bedtime won out and she approached the children’s section, fingering the books with the pretty pictures on the spines. Andromeda looked at Emmeline squarely. Her laughter chafed Andromeda’s pride, and that she dared talk to her like that in front of her daughter angered her. She wasn’t joking, but if Emmeline wanted to clean up the place without a helping hand she was welcome to.

“You live with my sister,” she said. “I expect she and Lucius are taking it every bit as well as her owl suggested.” Words laced with sarcasm. “I want to learn what people are actually saying about the attack. That isn’t something I can do from the safe confines of my home.” Andromeda knew what her family thought about the matter. A dip into other company was refreshing. There was too much anger from her sisters, anger she shared, but if she let that anger run amok she wouldn’t get any work done. Her cause was too important for that.

“The Prophet hasn’t reported news in months. I was hoping someone here might have something useful to say.” She crossed her arms, letting herself walk across the soiled floor without concern for Emmeline’s efforts to clean. She had made it clear Andromeda wasn’t to concern herself, after all. “There’s only gossip and here-say, so far.” Though that could be just as valuable. “My errands are important,” she looked at the other witch, her expression not unkind, but businesslike all the same. “Do you know anything that might turn this useless trip into town around?”

Andromeda felt a certain curiosity looking at Emmeline. Since the witch was offered a place in her sister’s home, she hadn’t seen a great deal of her. The idea of a person murdering their soulmate in cold blood in the name of destiny terrified her. The idea of someone changing their allegiance elicited a similar reaction. Was it really that easy? Emmeline’s new-found devotion to destiny was something Andromeda could admire. Her interpretation of destiny was not.

[murderousvance]

Emmeline made a face, not bothering to politely hide her grimace. She should have expected to get her head bitten-off; certainly Narcissa wasn’t taking all this lightly and Emmeline knew the Black Sisters had more in common than a last name and their sharp good looks. But mollifying had never been a talent of hers, which was part of the reason why she was here in this dirty, disheveled shop and not lounging around Malfoy Manor. Even Lucius, usually so determinedly easy-going as if reluctant to admit there was anything that could ruffle his peacock’s feathers, was tense and snappish. She’d had to get out of the house, and even helping Elphard tidy-up had sounded like more fun.

(She would definitely have to make sure to get in touch with Dorcas later, let her know that whatever public face they might be putting on the event, there were certainly some Death Eaters whom she had succeeded in distressing.)

At least, no matter how well-bred a girl she might be, Nymphadora Black was still young enough not to care that the books she was pawing through were out-of-order and layered with a fine coating of ashy dust. Looks like we might have a sale today after all, Emmeline thought wryly, then turned her attention back to Nymphadora’s mother. She didn’t look nearly as content as her daughter. Emmeline propped her broom against a bookshelf and shrugged at the dignified witch. “If the letter said ‘not very,’ then yeah--about like that would be how they’re taking it.” It had been years since Emmeline had deliberately turned her back on the stilted speech-patterns and exacting manners that so many of her society preferred; she wasn’t about to adopt them again now just for Andromeda’s sake. “Anyway, I haven’t even heard much gossip in here yet,” she admitted lightly, “possibly because there aren’t a lot of people shopping, or maybe because we don’t really look open yet, with all the dirt.”

Emmeline wasn’t entirely sure where she stood these days between destiny and free will, between Order and Eaters--but she did know that she wasn’t about to betray Dorcas no matter what path she took to sort her own life out, so she added, “But most of what little I have heard? Seems to that folk are seeing it less like an attack on anybody specific and more against destiny itself--which I have to say seems like a big leap to make, given the kind of business that Knockturn Alley shops are reputed for doing. It’s just as likely one of them made somebody angry, or even did it themselves by accident or to cover something up, don’t you think?” She shrugged again, as though it didn’t matter much to her one way or the other; as though she was just talking the gossip because Andromeda had asked, and because she was too curious not to know something, not to think something about it all, no matter how firmly she’d been holding her tongue around the twitchy Malfoys. “It’s not like Burke doesn’t have enemies; same with everybody else who keeps a shop down there. Makes you wonder why everybody is so quick to jump to the ‘destiny is bollocks’ idea, doesn’t it? Makes me wonder anyway, but then, I never did know how to keep my nose out of other people’s business.” Emmeline grinned toothily. Subtlety in conversational manipulation--dropping leading hints and saying just enough and not too much--had never been her strongest talent, but surely even Andromda had to jump on that idea.

Not wanting to overplay her hand, Emmeline walked over to where Nymphadora was looking through the small collection of appropriate-for-the-little-ones books they kept in stock for the truly discerning parent. She crouched down next to the little girl but looked up at her mother and said frankly, “I’m not sure what I can tell you to make your trip more profitable, other than to help Nymphadora here pick out a book she’ll like, but if you hear anything concrete--or even just interesting--I'd certainly love it if you shared. You know I love a good story, whether it’s fiction or non.” Emmeline looked over Nymphadora’s shoulder and nodded approvingly; she didn’t spend much time around children that age, but she had second- and third-cousins (more important to the bloodline than she was, for all that they ranged in age from two to twelve) and her own casual honesty generally won her approval from her tiny relations. Nymphadora Black might well be a very different case, but Emmeline didn’t hesitate to talk to her just like she would have had the girl been one of those baby cousins. “That one about the kneazle is really good,” she told her, “but that pixie adventure one you’ve got always struck me as pretty bland, when I was your age. In fact...” Emmeline turned to the shelf in the front window and plucked a slim paperback out of the middle. The cover showed a blonde girl sitting in a bug red chair and smiling up at a very small white dog perched above her. She held the book out to Nymphadora and gave her an encouraging smile. “If you want to read about kids and faeries, try this one. It was written by a Muggle so it’s not what I would call accurate,” she explained with a wink, “but it’s a lot of fun. No Flying in the House,” she read the title, in case the girl was having trouble with it, “it’s even got a miniature talking dog. What do you think? Sounds fun, right?”