He made her stomach churn and twist in a way that made her feel like she was going to get sick, that was how Emmeline Vance knew that she hated Caradoc Dearborn.

Whenever he stepped into the room her face got hot, like she'd been struck with a bloody fever. When she attempted to speak her tongue seemed to twist around itself, causing her to jumble her words. She did not jumble words! She spoke eloquently, just like her mother had told her, and she sat with poise and dignity because her father scolded her when she didn't. So this Caradoc fellow better stop doing what he was doing, because she was not going to spend the rest of her life like this. She could get him in trouble for underage magic; Emmeline was absolutely sure he'd concocted some strange potion or had hit her with a painful spell behind her back.

"Look at that idiot," Juliet muttered, glaring across the room at her brother. Emmeline was already looking at Caradoc, but made a small gesture to look at Juliet first, then back to him. He and the other boys in the gathering were hollering about something that Emmeline couldn't figure out and was very eager to. Juliet refused to move from her seat the whole night, however, and she was stuck by her side.

"They're all idiots," Emmeline commented, stretching her neck to try and get a look over the people now beginning to crowd in front of Caradoc and his friends. "What could they possibly be doing?"

"Something absolutely idiotic, that is what idiots do," Juliet drawled, getting to her feet and grabbing at Emmeline's sleeve. She didn't need a prompt to follow her over, and remained on Juliet's heels as they broke through the crowd. "What are you three doing?"

"Your brother thinks he can stuff twenty pieces of Drooble's into his mouth without choking," Donovan Rookwood explained, looking quite amused.

"Orpheus says he can do twenty-five," Matilda Rowle cooed, and immediately dissolved into giggles with Mackenzie Loftus, the pair hiding behind their hands. Emmeline made a show of rolling her eyes, eyelashes fluttering dramatically. Really. Shouldn't they be doing something impressive? Eating gum was not only silly, but gross. They would be drooling all over themselves in a moment, and as hard as it was to take her eyes off of Caradoc (it was a hex), Emmeline had no desire to be a witness to this.

"Let's get this over with! First to empty the bowl wins!" Caradoc announced loudly, dragging Orpheus over to the center table. He dropped two bowls of the bubble gum onto the main table, as if it were to be the main course of their dinner. Everyone swarmed for a good seat, causing Emmeline and Juliet to lose their former spots. Juliet huffed greatly and turned on a heel in a quick exit of the room. She would probably be heading up to her bedroom, but Emmeline lingered behind, unable to pull away. She sat at the emptier end of the table, hands fidgeting with the bracelet around her wrist.

"Ready!" Matilda squeaked, "Set! GO!"

The room erupted into cheers as the boys began their race, but Emmeline's gag reflex immediately reacted in her throat at the sight. Grimacing, she waved her hands in disgust, sending her bracelet flying off her wrist and under the table. Glad for an excuse to peel her eyes off the disgusting display, Emmeline pulled up the tablecloth and ducked under the table. Her bracelet was easily found, but she remained under the table because of a peculiar sight. The Dearborn's houself, Filkes, was sitting under the table, unwrapping and rapidly chewing packs of Droobles. With small snaps of his fingers more and more packs were appearing, and the roar of Caradoc's quick and unbelievable win made absolute sense.

Emmeline pulled herself out from under the table, gaping at the supposed 'victor.' The bloody cheat! That big gob of gum he'd just spit onto Orpheus' napkin was not that of thirty pieces, how could anyone believe that? She glared with great annoyance at Caradoc; if you were going to compete in disgusting competition, at least do it right. She had the greatest urge to shout out the antics of the house elf as the group began to exit the room, heading for the official dinner. Emmeline puffed up and pushed herself to Caradoc's side, ready to announce it to the crowd, but before she could open her mouth, he handed her an unwrapped piece of gum.

"Don't you want to try it?" he said quickly, with a pointed look down at her. Emmeline's mouth moved like a fish out of water, but her hands took control, like they were under some sort of puppeteering spell, and accepted the gum. Caradoc grinned and patted her head before he rushed after the others, hollering about his winnings.

Emmeline gripped at the gum tightly as she lagged behind the group, suddenly able to function on her own once he was out of her sight. What spell had that been?He made her stomach churn and twist in a way that made her feel like she was going to get sick, that was how Emmeline Vance knew that she hated Caradoc Dearborn.

Whenever he stepped into the room her face got hot, like she'd been struck with a bloody fever. When she attempted to speak her tongue seemed to twist around itself, causing her to jumble her words. She did not jumble words! She spoke eloquently, just like her mother had told her, and she sat with poise and dignity because her father scolded her when she didn't. So this Caradoc fellow better stop doing what he was doing, because she was not going to spend the rest of her life like this. She could get him in trouble for underage magic; Emmeline was absolutely sure he'd concocted some strange potion or had hit her with a painful spell behind her back.

"Look at that idiot," Juliet muttered, glaring across the room at her brother. Emmeline was already looking at Caradoc, but made a small gesture to look at Juliet first, then back to him. He and the other boys in the gathering were hollering about something that Emmeline couldn't figure out and was very eager to. Juliet refused to move from her seat the whole night, however, and she was stuck by her side.

"They're all idiots," Emmeline commented, stretching her neck to try and get a look over the people now beginning to crowd in front of Caradoc and his friends. "What could they possibly be doing?"

"Something absolutely idiotic, that is what idiots do," Juliet drawled, getting to her feet and grabbing at Emmeline's sleeve. She didn't need a prompt to follow her over, and remained on Juliet's heels as they broke through the crowd. "What are you three doing?"

"Your brother thinks he can stuff twenty pieces of Drooble's into his mouth without choking," Donovan Rookwood explained, looking quite amused.

"Orpheus says he can do twenty-five," Matilda Rowle cooed, and immediately dissolved into giggles with Mackenzie Loftus, the pair hiding behind their hands. Emmeline made a show of rolling her eyes, eyelashes fluttering dramatically. Really. Shouldn't they be doing something impressive? Eating gum was not only silly, but gross. They would be drooling all over themselves in a moment, and as hard as it was to take her eyes off of Caradoc (it was a hex), Emmeline had no desire to be a witness to this.

"Let's get this over with! First to empty the bowl wins!" Caradoc announced loudly, dragging Orpheus over to the center table. He dropped two bowls of the bubble gum onto the main table, as if it were to be the main course of their dinner. Everyone swarmed for a good seat, causing Emmeline and Juliet to lose their former spots. Juliet huffed greatly and turned on a heel in a quick exit of the room. She would probably be heading up to her bedroom, but Emmeline lingered behind, unable to pull away. She sat at the emptier end of the table, hands fidgeting with the bracelet around her wrist.

"Ready!" Matilda squeaked, "Set! GO!"

The room erupted into cheers as the boys began their race, but Emmeline's gag reflex immediately reacted in her throat at the sight. Grimacing, she waved her hands in disgust, sending her bracelet flying off her wrist and under the table. Glad for an excuse to peel her eyes off the disgusting display, Emmeline pulled up the tablecloth and ducked under the table. Her bracelet was easily found, but she remained under the table because of a peculiar sight. The Dearborn's houself, Filkes, was sitting under the table, unwrapping and rapidly chewing packs of Droobles. With small snaps of his fingers more and more packs were appearing, and the roar of Caradoc's quick and unbelievable win made absolute sense.

Emmeline pulled herself out from under the table, gaping at the supposed 'victor.' The bloody cheat! That big gob of gum he'd just spit onto Orpheus' napkin was not that of thirty pieces, how could anyone believe that? She glared with great annoyance at Caradoc; if you were going to compete in disgusting competition, at least do it right. She had the greatest urge to shout out the antics of the house elf as the group began to exit the room, heading for the official dinner. Emmeline puffed up and pushed herself to Caradoc's side, ready to announce it to the crowd, but before she could open her mouth, he handed her an unwrapped piece of gum.

"Don't you want to try it?" he said quickly, with a pointed look down at her. Emmeline's mouth moved like a fish out of water, but her hands took control, like they were under some sort of puppeteering spell, and accepted the gum. Caradoc grinned and patted her head before he rushed after the others, hollering about his winnings.

Emmeline gripped at the gum tightly as she lagged behind the group, suddenly able to function on her own once he was out of her sight. What spell had that been?

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He wasn't going to show.

Her heart seemed to be running around her chest, screaming and waving its arms around like a madwoman, because he wasn't going to show. Emmeline tried to keep her expression neutral, hoping that the stinging in her eyes wasn't visible to those dancing around. Where was Ben? The Yule Ball had been going on for a good twenty minutes, now, and she hadn't caught sight of her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Her own boyfriend had ditched her at the biggest event of the school year! How could he? They'd planned to meet at the Great Hall to avoid teasing from both his and her own roommates, Ben had been the one to decide this so why!

Was this some big prank? Had his terrible roommates finally convinced him to behave like an idiot and ditch her? Emmeline felt herself heat up at the thought and she uncrossed her legs to recross them in opposite manner. Frank was around here somewhere, but she didn't feel like bugging him (he and Alice weren't fighting, for once). Oh. Oh. She was going to kill Ben. Kill him!

Sitting here waiting like a fool was just going to make it worse, but what could she do? Run up to Gryffindor tower and bellow for him to come down, to stop being a pansy and threaten to cut off appendages? That would only cause a scene, and that was the last thing she wanted to add onto her current rage.

Actually, that did sound like it would release a lot of stress.

Emmeline had just shot to her feet, looking for the best way through the crowd, when a hand gripped her elbow. She was tugged around quickly, and she let out a squeak, "Ben!"

"I'm sorry!" he let out quickly, looking awfully disheveled. His robes were askew and dirty, and his hair was sticking up in strange designs, as if the hair gel he'd dumped on it had a mind of its own. "The greenhouses were shut, I had to find Professor Sprout to open to get your corsage!"

"I--" Emmeline flushed deeply, looking down at his free hand at the bright blue flower in his grasp. "Oh."

"Can I put it on?" he asked, already taking her hand to slip the corsage. It was the plant he'd been talking about for weeks, going on and on about how his mum had grown them in their garden when he was little and how he was so happy that Professor Sprout had let him grow it. Emmeline had diligently paid attention to Ben's constant ramblings about the flower, but not enough to think he'd been growing it for her.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, feeling her cheeks go even redder. She looked up at Ben, who was nearly panting with exhaustion, "I was going to kill you, you know."

A grin swept across his face and he bent down to kiss her, wrapping his long arms around her waist, "Why do you think I ran so fast?"

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“Emmeline, you need to give him to me.”

“I’m babysitting tonight. I’m taking care of him.”

Augusta Longbottom stood tall in the foyer of Emmeline Vance’s house, a stony expression on her face. It had been a long night, a long day, and it was starting to look like she had another long night ahead of her. If the dolts at the ministry knew better than to tiptoe around her and the details, then this would have been done hours ago and they could all move on with their lives. Augusta knew going into this that it was going to be difficult, and that’s why she came herself instead of letting her husband attempt to pick up her grandson. The woman standing before her blocked the stairwell that led up to the boy crying in an upstairs nursery, and it didn’t seem like anything or anyone was going to move her. The older woman let out a breath and looked down, before starting forward, and Emmeline did the same, arms out to the side.

“Augusta, you can’t take him---I’m babysitting tonight, I’m taking care of him,” Emmeline said stiffly, robotically, as if she’d been repeating the same phrase for weeks. “You can’t.”

“He needs to be with his family---”

“I AM HIS FAMILY!”

The woman’s pale face suddenly flushed with color as her shoulders tightened, trying to stand tall in front of Augusta. She was shaking; the woman was frail and shaking and looked to be in no condition to take care of a toddler. Had she slept at all last night? Had she eaten all day? Had Neville eaten? Why was he crying? Augusta knew that she was being cold, but what needed to be done had to be done and she wasn’t going waste precious time. Everyone knew that Emmeline was family, that she was a friend and widely suspected of fighting against Voldemort; it would be a short time before they put together that Neville was with her, and Augusta would not have her grandson put in anymore danger before he could fight back.

“He’s coming with me, Emmeline.”

The woman’s face took on a look of sheer panic and with a crack she disapparated. Augusta didn’t have to wait long to figure out where Emmeline had gone---the crying upstairs stopped and the footsteps falling on the wooden floor echoed down from the ceiling. Augusta let out a breath and took a seat by the front door, pulling out her wand; constant vigilance.

It was almost an hour before Emmeline came down the stairs, and Augusta didn’t sit up or look surprised at her appearance. She watched her handle the sleeping Neville with care, his arms draped over her shoulders and face dug into her neck. Emmeline was whispering to him, quick, hushed whispers, but whispers and while Augusta could have listened in if she wanted, she turned away and let the woman say her goodbyes. To be safe, to make sure Neville was safe, they would have to stay away from the Order and those involved in it; she didn’t know how long before the world settled enough to be safe for Neville to interact with these people, those few remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, but he would, some day.

“He likes toads.”

“Excuse me?”

Emmeline’s face had been buried in Neville’s hair and she looked up, eyes still red with tears. She sniffled greatly, and her mouth twisted before she could speak again, each step toward Augusta seeming to be harder than the last.

“We went the park and found some toads, he likes them,” Emmeline finally explained when she reached only a few centimeters away from Augusta. The older woman stood and took Neville out of his godmother’s arms, hoisting him up onto her shoulder in a similar fashion. She watched as Emmeline’s eyes remained locked onto the baby’s face, and Augusta for the first time in the past day, felt a pang of guilt for someone besides her grandson.

“He loved you.” Emmeline’s eyes darted from Neville to meet Augusta’s, eyes filling once more with tears, but she listened on expectantly. “You were like his sister, you are his sister. He loved you. He still does.”

She turned around, pushing open the door and leaving the woman standing in the middle of her foyer, alone.

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“She’s a bloody slag, that’s what she is,” Emmeline said sharply, wiping her eyes with what had to be the thousandth tissue of the night. She didn’t care that she knew absolutely nothing about Lucy Martin, the girl was a slag, a tart, a---a---scarlet woman, and Emmeline refused to acknowledge the fact that she had no evidence for this, at all. “You should’ve seen her, hanging all over him at the amusement park, I was about ready to strangle her.”

Anneliese was nodding along with her words, and if her other roommates were there, Emmeline was certain that they would agree. Who did that girl think she was? Calling him Benjamin as if she knows him so well, ooh. It didn’t help that Ben seemed to enjoy the bloody bint’s company, the nerve of him! If she had gone around hanging all over some bloke’s arm, it would’ve been war, that she was sure of! How fair was it that she was supposed to sit there and let this girl fawn over her boyfriend and just---‘we’re just friends, Em, don’t be silly’

“I’ve got a right to be damn silly when the whore’s got her hands all over my boyfriend!” she exclaimed in a shrilly voice, not sure how she could reach such notes when her nose was stuffed beyond what felt like repair.

“She’s not even that pretty.”

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Philip Vance’s head was ducked low as his eyes lifted from the parchment he was furiously scribbling on. The door to his office had opened, and unless it was Jacqueline coming in because one of her tea parties had ended early and she was bored, he should not be interrupted for at least another hour. His eyebrows rose at the sight of his four-year-old daughter poking her head through the slightly opened door, looking rather timid and worried.

“What do you have there?” he asked, noticing she was struggling with something in her small arms. Emmeline’s mouth tightened and she didn’t come in all the way. Philip let out a sigh and sat up, asking the question again. This time she pushed the door open further he was able to see that she held a large book, both hands struggling to keep it up to her chest. “Emmeline, where you in my study?”

“No.”

“Then where did you get that?”

Her mouth twisted and Philip rolled his eyes. She was always lying, he had no idea why, and now she was breaking into his study and messing up his library. Couldn’t she like dolls and dresses like all the other girls?

“Give it to me.”

“Can you read it?”

She’d made it to the front of the desk and somehow managed to heft the book onto it. Philip recognized the cover immediately: Gulliver’s Travels, a favorite of his. He really didn’t want her messing this copy up, his father had given it to him the day before he went off to Hogwarts…but he knew that Emmeline would just get back into his study and take it out again.

“Fine, I will read a chapter a day,” Philip said, opening the book and flipping to the first page. He began to read aloud and managed to spot Emmeline climbing into the seat in front of his desk, leaning on the arm of the chair and listening intently.

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To a Ravenclaw, knowledge was everything. Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure and all that, so it was quite odd to see one of Rowena’s students missing a class. Because how else were you to further your magical education if you didn’t attend classes taught by some of the finest witches and wizards of your age? Copy notes from the other diligent students who attended every lesson? That was fine the first few times, but Ravenclaws are very territorial and quite competitive, who in their right mind would want to risk their class rank for someone who couldn’t get their self to class? It simply wasn’t fair, and the amount of study time lost by lending out your notes would irrevocably hurt your chances at getting a proper job in the Ministry, or at least you wouldn’t start out as high up as you should, and—

Emmeline shook her head, trying to regain consciousness from the daydream she’d gone into during the seventh year’s ramble about responsibilities. She blinked a few times as she tried to remember where she was, and noticed the chimera skeleton in the background. Everything fell into place and she sat back up, putting her notes from the Defense Against the Dark Arts study group back into order as the lesson ended.

The back door of the classroom opened and Fabian---Professor Prewett, stepped out and into the small group that had formed around his door to answer questions, even though his eyes were scanning the back of the room. The chair besides Emmeline’s skidded and tipped over, making a loud clanging noise and causing everyone to look back. Emmeline was the only one at the table and she stared blankly at the curious faces before shrugging.

“Sorry. Clumsy.”

Professor Prewett frowned but went back to the students, and Emmeline finished putting her notes away. They were basically the same things from class, actually—the seventh year almost recited word for word Friday’s lesson, and---ugh, it was honestly a waste of an hour, but she didn’t mind, and slung her bag over her shoulder and left the room.

“Sorry, I just—I didn’t think he was going to come out,” Anneliese Rosenberg moaned apologetically from her hiding spot in the corridor. “He’s always looking at me and---”

“Don’t worry, he didn’t see you,” Emmeline said with a light smile, tugging on Anneliese’s hand to get her back to the dorms before Professor Prewett came out looking for her, like he always did.

They walked in silence for a little as Anneliese was fretting and Emmeline was still trying to wake up.

“Was it new material? Different from class? You didn’t have to come, I should just start going to class, its ridiculous—“

“Oh—no, it was all new stuff,” Emmeline answered offhandedly, sending a dismissive wave in her best friend’s direction, “I needed the review.” To a Ravenclaw, knowledge was everything. Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure and all that, so it was quite odd to see one of Rowena’s students missing a class. Because how else were you to further your magical education if you didn’t attend classes taught by some of the finest witches and wizards of your age? Copy notes from the other diligent students who attended every lesson? That was fine the first few times, but Ravenclaws are very territorial and quite competitive, who in their right mind would want to risk their class rank for someone who couldn’t get their self to class? It simply wasn’t fair, and the amount of study time lost by lending out your notes would irrevocably hurt your chances at getting a proper job in the Ministry, or at least you wouldn’t start out as high up as you should, and—

Emmeline shook her head, trying to regain consciousness from the daydream she’d gone into during the seventh year’s ramble about responsibilities. She blinked a few times as she tried to remember where she was, and noticed the chimera skeleton in the background. Everything fell into place and she sat back up, putting her notes from the Defense Against the Dark Arts study group back into order as the lesson ended.

The back door of the classroom opened and Fabian---Professor Prewett, stepped out and into the small group that had formed around his door to answer questions, even though his eyes were scanning the back of the room. The chair besides Emmeline’s skidded and tipped over, making a loud clanging noise and causing everyone to look back. Emmeline was the only one at the table and she stared blankly at the curious faces before shrugging.

“Sorry. Clumsy.”

Professor Prewett frowned but went back to the students, and Emmeline finished putting her notes away. They were basically the same things from class, actually—the seventh year almost recited word for word Friday’s lesson, and---ugh, it was honestly a waste of an hour, but she didn’t mind, and slung her bag over her shoulder and left the room.

“Sorry, I just—I didn’t think he was going to come out,” Anneliese Rosenberg moaned apologetically from her hiding spot in the corridor. “He’s always looking at me and---”

“Don’t worry, he didn’t see you,” Emmeline said with a light smile, tugging on Anneliese’s hand to get her back to the dorms before Professor Prewett came out looking for her, like he always did.

They walked in silence for a little as Anneliese was fretting and Emmeline was still trying to wake up.

“Was it new material? Different from class? You didn’t have to come, I should just start going to class, its ridiculous—“

“Oh—no, it was all new stuff,” Emmeline answered offhandedly, sending a dismissive wave in her best friend’s direction, “I needed the review.”

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