emmeline
“Come on! Now you’re just teasing me. There’s no way that’s true!” Emmeline rebuffs with a laugh, shaking her head. She’s almost positive he’s not, but it’s all in good fun. It makes a change from the normal dark and dreary conversations they seem to have shared in recent days, and Emmeline—for all her usual seriousness and solemnity—finds she doesn’t want to let the mood fade just yet. Soon, if things go to plan, their working hours might be filled with more levity and light, though for now these fleeting moments will have to suffice. “Well, lending him a hand would make a refreshing break from following up empty leads and cold sightings of our most wanted.” She sighs. “You’re not wrong though. I’m not sure I fancy my chances of him approving a reassignment.” Not that Emmeline isn’t satisfied with her current work. She’s proud of what she does every day, but sometimes the tasks she’s given weigh heavy on her. Too heavy.
“You’re a saint, Kingsley,” she replies. “I’ve said for years mum is wasted working for the magical trading standards division. She’d rival even the best of us at times with how intimidating she can be. Maybe I should sic her on Moody?” There had been no room for misbehaving in the Vance household, but despite the sternness of her parents, it had been a home filled with love and Emmeline loves them dearly. “I think a few of them might faint from shock if you even suggested they take a break to celebrate.” It was a shame, really. The way that some families seemed to treat their own house elves was enough to turn the stomach. “So maybe we could persuade a couple to part with their secrets instead?”
“I promise, it’s all true! That’s not even the weirdest part of it all,” he replied, a wide smile finally breaking through his otherwise pleasantly amused expression. “This super man of theirs comes from space. Imagine that, a man from space! It’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard in my life, but they love it!” Kingsley had long since given up on understanding the themes that muggle moving pictures had to them, just as he had given up on figuring out how they had managed to create them without magic of their own. Even the muggleborns he had met had seemed at a loss of how to explain the technology. “That’s a good point,” he agreed, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink; “there’s not a lot of, well... chasing, involved. Of course, you’d have to be alright with some paperwork. I swear, muggles love it more than Moody does.” His work as a secretary was all about paperwork, and arbitrary names and dates—without magic on his side to make up the difference, it might have been more unbearable. But Kingsley was nothing if not hardworking, if not patient, and he made do for the sake of both worlds.
Another burst of laughter escaped him before he could swallow it down. “I’d buy box seats to witness that. Who do you think would win, there?” Alastor, of course, was as practiced with his sharp tongue as he was with his wand, but Emmeline’s mother was fierce in her own right. A battle of stubbornness between the two would have lasted a good, long while, if nothing else. “I’m sure you’re right about that, but it hardly seems fair to ask for secrets without offering anything in return. I know they insist on doing things that way, but if we promised them plenty of work to make the food, don’t you think a few might agree to come out and try some of it?” It had been a long time since he had been at Hogwarts, and longer still since he had even seen any of the house elves there, but he was certain they had to enjoy some fun every once in a while.







