◘ BECAUSE YEAH IM GREEDY.
“Potter?” She said into the phone- as if she was going to hear his smirk as he answered back the obviously, ‘Vanity.’- but she heard nothing- because it was voice mail- as she twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. “I was thinking about Quidditch today.” She paused again- still hoping for a response- because if anyone would have a prank and a sick sense of humor it be Potter- yet there was still silence- she pressed on. “Wondering how it be if we went pro- like we promised we would.” It was near the end of the year- they had locked eyes and before a matched the determined who won the cup their final year- they promised- no swore- that they were going to go to the teams they had been drafted too but by their sideways glances only seconds after the promise- they both knew it was full of shit and in only a few months times they’d not be rivals in a sport- but dueling each other. She chewed on her lip, clutching the phone harder. “I was just wondering if we did- you wouldn’t have died.” she said quietly, fake memories forming in her mind, of her in Holyhead Harpies uniform while hundreds cheer around her- her without the tattoo on her forearm.
“It would have been glorious and the moment I saw your picture in the paper- I couldn’t help but wonder if you thought about the wind on your face when you died-” She glanced at the picture in the newspaper- it was on page three and it was a rather attractive picture of Potter- it wasn’t perfect, it didn’t capture his mischievous glint- he looked like a normal boy- a normal bloke on the street and not someone who caused her so much headache while at school and even while remember all that her stomach was clenching up. She wished it showed that glint it usually had in his eyes. “Of course your death will be the ending of everything I believed in.” She said, almost bitterly but she sounded more sick at the thought of it than anything else. Her house was empty save for a child who would only listen to her father, Evan (who died a few months earlier) and a child who was only two years old- who now that she thought of it- was only a year old then Potter’s. She frowned as she picked up the picture again. Oriax would be a year above- She scanned the article. “Harry.” She said out loud. “I think it horrifying- not that you’re asking me, Potter- that they’d put on the first page and two articles about the celebrations that should be happen when you no longer exist.” She tried to smile but she was finding it hard to hold back the tears, “As egotistical as you are, I would assume that you’d require the world to mourn you at least for a year before laughter was allowed to take place again.” She sighed, moving back to the first page- where lots of wizards were celebrating the defeat of the Dark Lord. She knew everyone she knew was mourning, the fall of everything they believed in- and she could already tell that they were done and lots of her friends must have been being catered off to prison by now. “But of course you’re going to immobilized now.” She mumbled, letting her eyes flicker to the picture of Lily and back to a scary looking picture of Sirius that seemed unreal. “That’s not why I called though.” She said softly.
She put the newspaper down and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling- enjoying the fact she called a sitter today and lucky that the shock of her side completely losing hasn’t sung in at all yet- as she just thinks about the fact Potter wasn’t going to breath again. It had taken a lot out of her when Jason had died and now that it was very recently that Evan was killed by Mad Eye Moody and she was left alone and feeling- empty. Even with the prospect of raising her children- whom she loved- it was hard to feel a sense of competition so it was almost easy to think back just so she had a place to escape too. She smiled, “Tutshell Tornados- they’re shit. I hope you know that, Potter.” She allowed the smile to widen slightly. “Holyhead Harpies are doing much better but still shit- clearly they’re lost without our guidance.” She took a deep breath in. “They have a match today- against each other.” She took another sip of the firewhiskey she had been drinking- since 8am. “It’s the first game I’ve seen live in-” She paused trying to remember but everything felt fuzzy. “You would have taken the place of Wilson- the fact that he’s even a chaser is so embarassing- and I don’t-” She paused, taking a deep breath, “I barely follow Quidditch anymore and even I know that.” Merlin she felt tired and her eyes started to loose focus- she should have eaten something before drinking but she pressed on. “Gimms was awful- he began by zig zagging at an obvious way- like that’s clever at all, spoiler it isn’t.” She rolled her eyes taking another drink. “With the way the Quaffle was moving it was almost clear it was Quaffle-pocking- but you know referees that refuse to even attempt to call it- the sodding lot of them are too scared that they’d be blamed for it, since in games like that they’re suppose to be supervising the releasing of the balls.” She sighed. “Politics,” she scoffs. “Who needs them in Quidditch.”
She scratched her head slightly, her hair slightly coming undone although it has been all day- even with magic it was a bit messy today. “Browdy then decided he was going to be a little shit and not mind the fact that people might have places to be as him and Alderman had a great go trying to find the snitch- that was exciting at least they had to use the memory that is made into snitches- the whole reason that we got to use a new one each time, right?” She sighed. “Harpies won.” But she felt no pleasure in relaying that fact- not even a little bit. She took a long moment and felt dizzy. She should have slept- but she hadn’t been able to for the last day. “You’d probably live if you were Captain of that shitty team.” She said, “You would have been able to live.” probably the most confident thing she said all day and her eyes turned to the mark, that hasn’t faded but burned (but she could tell The Dark Lord was faded- not gone- but it didn’t do anything), the most feared symbol that had only gave Emma a feeling of excitement has not rendered her emotionless- she felt nothing and, barely even realizing the phone was still in her hand, “I would have been able to live too.” She said quietly, not able to take her eyes off her arm.
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