The fire startled her, nearly off the couch. Emmeline had been so exhausted an hour or two (or three?) ago that she hadn't made it to her bedroom, and had simply slumped onto her couch and fallen asleep. There was no energy left within her to take off her shoes, change into her pajamas, or drop into her bed. No, all her energy had been given to the Order, and to the Ministry, and to all the terrible anxiety and memories the death of the Prewetts brought upon her.
Emmeline wasn't sure how she was actually sleeping, as all her dreams were about Gideon and Fabian, or Caradoc, they always went back to him---her exhaustion must be overwhelming her need to jolt awake, and she was forced to suffer through the images that her tired brain was creating. Terrible, she felt terrible in her bloody sleep. It was like she'd been the one that was killed, or she was the one that was once again losing your loved one, it was painful and she couldn't escape it because the same thoughts drifted in and out of her mind when she was fully awake and conscious.
Somehow, the flare of her fireplace pushed through her nightmares, and Emmeline blinked wearily. She hoped it wasn't some more bad news, but seeing as that only came in the form of a patronus lately...Emmeline hurried over, her eyes snapping wide open at the sight of Anneliese. She dropped down and answered,
"What's wrong?" Because something was always wrong.
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