The thing about arrogance, Emma thought, was that if one was’t careful, ot could get you killed. Emma was careful. Having spent her entire life clawing her way to the top ( and still climbing ) of a social hierarchy full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to stab her in the back without blinking an eye if it came to that, she was well aware that it took MORE than just pureblood to keep a person safe. There was a reason Emma was a Slytherin, and that was her self preservation. Emma was a survivor. She was iron. Self preservation was what she specialised in, and she didn’t need Christa fucking Williams to tell her that no one was safe in a war.
( it was part of the reason why she
never joined the death eaters despite
labeling herself as a blood purist.
in the end, no matter which side won,
no one was spared. for all her faults,
a death wish was not one of them. )
The smile, cool as ice, never once dropped from her face. There was not a single hint to suggest that Emma was in anyway fazed by the other girl’s warning, because the truth was she wasn’t. The only real change was the glint of amusement that glittered in her eyes, and the smugness that laced her lips as she considered the girl before her. It amused her to see Christa bite back, even if she’d done it in the most hufflepuff way possible. There was a backbone in this girl, and Emma had dug her claws in deep enough to bring it out.
She also had no intentions of ever taking Christa up on that offer. Kindness, especially like that, was weakness, Emma thought. How Christa was still willing to care and trust and accept even those who had hurt her, those who fought against her and her kind, was weakness to Emma. It was also something she failed to understand. Having been raised to believe trust was a luxury very very few could afford ( to give or to have, it made little difference ), it seemed to Emma that if she told Christa here and now that she wanted to change, that she wanted to unlearn blood purity, she’d probably be believed. Not only that, but Christa might even help. Her kindness meant she trusted, and it was this trust, Emma thought, that would ultimately be her downfall.
( if her heart didn’t ruin her first,
that is.
as rightly stated, it was a war,
and no one was safe.
caring for people, even people,
especially people, that hated you
in a world where anyone could go
missing on any given day seemed
foolish; it set you up to get your heart
b r o k e n. caring for people was more
trouble than it was worth sometimes. )
As much as Emma wanted to leave, wanted for this pointless conversation to end, she had too much pride to stand up first. She refused to leave first, and give Christa the satisfaction of thinking she’d had any other impact on Emma than mild annoyance. Lazily she reclined in her seat, raising a brow at the girl before her.
“While I know I’m far too pretty to die young, I’m not foolish enough to believe that I am invincible. You might want to watch your back, Williams, because one day you’ll make an offer like that to someone far less kind than me, and you’ll end up with a dagger plunged through your back. Here’s a tip: being kind gets you no where except a grave.”
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