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e m m e l i n e ♔ ([info]advancingly) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2008-08-16 03:06:00


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Entry tags:emmeline vance

WHO: Emmeline Vance and Antonin Dolohov
WHAT: Short meeting
WHERE: St. Mungo's
WHEN: IDK TODAY?



"Well, look at you."

Emmeline's eyebrows rose at the sight of Antonin Dolohov, standing in the middle of the examination room in a set of robes that looked straight off the runway of Paris---very professional, crisp. She tapped her clip board thoughtfully and closed the door behind her, smiling in a peculiar, confused manner. She'd never seen Antonin this dressed up, or this regal looking (his expression too, for that matter).

"I was hoping I'd get you," he said with a smirk. Emmeline pushed his reaching hand away, ears growing red.

"So sorry, this isn't the kind of examination where I have to ask you to take your clothes off."

"Damn," he muttered, but Antonin propped himself up on the table anyway, legs swinging idly. "Could you just sign the documents, then? I have lunch with the Minister of Belgium in half an hour."

Emmeline turned and stared, a look of intense disbelief shooting from her eyes. Antonin smirked once again, not bothering to explain, rather waiting for her to question.

"And how did you manage such a lunch date?" she finally asked, having pulled out his files. She'd set them up on her clipboard and now stood in front of Antonin, wand at eye-level as she began the basic sight tests. His eyes moved back at forth, following the bob of light at the end.

"I'm working as an aide in the department of magical law enforcement," he said, and Emmeline nearly scoffed at the pompous tone.

"And you're going alone, already?"

"Well---" Antonin flinched as she pushed her hand into the side of his head to tilt it to his shoulder; his ears needed to be checked. "Well, no, but. I'm assisting another aide. Taking notes. Gathering important documents. Making---reservations."

"Hm."

"It's impressive!"

"Quite!" Emmeline soothed, pulling back and smiling. Huh. She supposed that it was a bit strange that he be given such a luxurious position so quickly, but then again, it did sound rather like he was "So, he demands, and you fetch?"

Antonin's eyes narrowed in a sneer, and Emmeline merely batted her eyes as she turned to fill out his papers. In all seriousness, she was proud of her friend; she knew he didn't have the best home life (or one at all, really--) and she also knew that Antonin was very smart, and was probably going to go far with this new position. So--to see him happy with his success was a good thing in these past few weeks of dreary depression.

"Well, Mister. Dolohov, I think you're good until next week."

"I have to come back?"

"I know, my face is just that much of a turn off," she said with a roll of her eyes. Antonin's lips pressed into a frown and he didn't slide off the table. Emmeline stared back for a moment, and then decided he was being his rather odd self and started to leave. But--Antonin grabbed her wrist before she could reach the door.

"There's a big party of sorts soon, for the Ministry---would you want to go with me?"

A rather strange, random request, and Emmeline would be sure that he was trying to make her feel uncomfortable (which he did a lot) were it not for the seriousness in his eyes.

"I...have a feeling my boyfriend wouldn't appreciate that much, no," she said, brows furrowing. Antonin's frown deepened.

"You're still with Dearborn."

"Well, that depends on the time of day...but yes."

Antonin's eyes moved down for a moment before flickering back up; his grip on her was released and he dropped to the floor in one fluid motion. Emmeline had forgotten how much taller he was than her, but she continued to stare up at him in confusion, hoping for an answer.

"You're going to stay out of trouble, aren't you?" Antonin asked, and Emmeline couldn't stop the smirk on her face from falling at his morbid question. He couldn't possibly know about anything that had gone on with her, or about the Order or---maybe he was thinking about Frank, or maybe he had suspicions about Caradoc, maybe--

"I can't make that promise," she muttered, looking away and toward the door. He shifted in his spot for a moment before picking up his cloak and leaving. Emmeline's eyes dropped to the ground, rather flustered and confused.



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