forty-two

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CHAPTER 42 

[ FIGHT OR FLIGHT ]

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"YOU'RE RELATED TO BELLATRIX?!"

Kate looked like she was actually going to hurl, and Emily nodded, mirroring her expression. 

Upon her return home, Emily had spared no time in telling her friends what her father had told her during her visit.

"Not by blood, thank god," Emily sighed, letting herself drop down into one of the armchairs in their living room.

"Hmm, I wonder when your murderous instincts will start to kick in," Violetta butted in, and Emily glared at her.

"You'll be the very first to know," she muttered, and Violetta smiled.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Em. All pure-blood families are related somehow, it was only a matter of time before your ancestry came up," she said with a shrug, "I mean, technically that makes us related,"

Emily gave a little shiver. "This is all so creepy,"

"You're telling me," Kate said, "I've never been happier in my life to be muggle-born. How come some of these kids are not born with serious defects because their parents are cousins or something?"

Violetta shook her head. "Some children are, and most get rejected by their families,"

"Rejected?!" Kate said disbelievingly, and Violetta nodded grimly.

"You can't just reject your child!" Emily said indignantly, "Especially not if the reason you're rejecting it is as a result of the fact you like doing your cousin or something,"

Kate let out a peal of laughter. "I'd like permission to quote you,"

"I know Em, but it still happens, although a lot less than before, if it's any comfort," Violetta said, and Emily scoffed.

"That's so wrong," she huffed, shaking her head.

"What else did he tell you?" Kate asked, and Emily recounted her mother's story to her best friends.

"Your Mum was engaged to Sirius?" Kate interjected, "That's.  .  . interesting,"

Violetta nodded in agreement. "Interesting but again, not uncommon .  .  . I've heard the Malfoys and the Greengrasses have been orchestrating a match between Draco and Astoria for a while now,"

At the sound of his name, Emily frowned. "Let's not talk about Draco Malfoy, please,"

"Apparently, he's become a death eater," Kate muttered, but Emily's mouth stayed clamped shut. 

This was not news to her.

"I'm not surprised," Violetta said grimly, "I remember how adamant they were with my family, even when we made it clear we weren't getting involved. Imagine how easy it is if they already believe in all that blood-purity nonsense,"

"Can we please not talk about him?" Emily repeated, her voice somewhat aggravated, and there was a silence.

"You're right," Violetta said, standing up, "Lord knows we have better things to do than sit here and talk about Voldemort–"

"VIOLETTA, NO!" Kate shouted, shooting out of her seat, but it was too late. Emily's stomach sank with dread and Violetta went as white as a sheet. She had said his name.

There was a silence. Emily's brain was working at warp speed, trying to drum up a way they were getting out of this. She stood up, grabbing her wand from the table.

"You need to hide," Emily said urgently, and Kate looked at her with wide eyes.

"We? I hope to hell you meant all three of us," Violetta said, her voice trembling.

"No, I've got the Polyjuice. I'll take it, and go to the front of the bakery and just pretend a patron said it instead of me," Emily said quickly, moving into the hall, and into her bedroom. She kneeled down and grabbed the small vial of potion from under her loose floorboards, taking two to be sure.

"We'll all take it," Kate stammered.

"Don't be stupid, three identical patrons will be a red flag for sure," Emily said sharply, standing up, before giving her friends an urgent look. "Go, now, both of you. To Aberforth's, not outside, they'll be looking for people who said his name,"

"Emily–" Violetta started, but Emily took a sip from the vial. She felt herself begin to change, and she headed down the stairs quickly, followed by her two friends.

"Here, through the back door," she said, ears straining for any type of sound, and Violetta opened her mouth to protests as she shepherded them towards the door, "Don't come out until I've sent a patronus,"

"This is insane," Violetta said angrily, but Kate grabbed her arm.

"Emily's right, Vi, we should go now," she said, and Emily shot her a grateful look.

With that, she opened the door, and Kate grabbed Violetta's arm, and they stepped out into the back street, and Emily slammed the door shut behind them.

Then, she ran to the door connecting the house to the shop, waving her wand hastily so the blinds flew up and the sign on the door flicked to open.

Not a moment later, four men apparated in the middle of the street with a loud crack, directly in front of the shop, making Emily's heart thud. She tried to look inconspicuous, grabbing a prophet she had lying around and sitting down behind the till, fighting every instinct she had to look over at the street.

She prayed silently, the only sound her breathing and the thumping heartbeat in her chest.

Don't come in, don't come in, don't come in, don't come in.

The entrance bell tinkled.

She took a deep breath and looked up with the most gracious smile she could muster.

"Gentleman," she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling, "How can I help you?"

To Emily's horror, the man standing on the opposite side of the till was Fenrir Greyback, and his face was his usual, ugly sneer. He was surrounded by three other men, none of which she recognized.

"Don't play stupid with us, pretty," he said, "We know someone here said the name of the Dark Lord,"

Emily pretended to cower, taking on a fearful expression. It wasn't difficult.

"It was one of the patrons," she blurted out, "I've never seen her before, but she just came in and she was talking in hushed tones with another lad and I heard her say it. They only just left. It wasn't me, I swear,"

"That so?" he leered, looking her up and down, "Spread out," he barked at the other men, who began searching the shop.

"They're not here!" Emily exclaimed in a squeaky voice, "I told you, they just left,"

"I'll be the judge of that," Greyback said harshly, and Emily kept her mouth shut.

The sound of glass shattering made her jump, and she looked to her left to see one of the men had knocked over a glass jar in which she usually kept cookies.

"Oops," he said innocently, giving her a practically toothless grin.

Emily fought a violent urge to shiver.

One of them rattled the door that led to the house. "It's locked," he said dumbly, and Greyback looked at Emily.

"What's your name pretty?" Greyback said, and her eyes met his.

"Eloise Pickett," she said, "My aunt was Augusta Pickett, she owned this place,"

He seemed to ponder this. "What did they look like?" he asked her, before barking over his shoulder, "Scabior! Check the list for Pickett,"

"I–. . ." Emily faltered, and he raised an eyebrow, "Dark hair, maybe? They looked about Hogwarts age. . ."

"Mudbloods!" exclaimed one of the Snatchers excitedly, and Greyback hushed him quickly.

"Dark hair, hmm? Not very descriptive is it?" he said, and Emily's mouth felt dry.

"I can't remember them well. . ." she said, and he raised an almost mocking eyebrow.

"You don't, do you?" he said, and her heartbeat was so loud in her ears she could barely hear herself think, "Because I swear you just described a Hogwarts-age boy with dark hair and a girl with him, both of which aren't afraid to use the Dark Lord's name. Sounds an awful lot like some people we're looking for,"

Emily felt her blood run cold, and Greyback gave a triumphant look when her face fell.

How could she have been so stupid? More importantly, how the hell had Fenrir Greyback connected the dots?

She kept her mouth clamped firmly shut.

"Still don't remember what they were saying?" he asked her, feigning innocence.

"You don't scare me," she said defiantly, and he raised a mocking eyebrow, before baring his teeth at her.

"Not yet, sweet thing," he said maliciously, "But I have a friend who excels at, let's say.  .  . loosening the tongue,"

"I don't know anything, please," Emily said weakly, realizing what he was implying.

"D'you hear that lads?" he said, "She said please,"

There was raucous laughter in the shop, but it was promptly interrupted by a loud bang. The door connecting the house and the shop was blasted off its hinges in a loud explosion.

"Hands off, you filthy mutt!" howled Violetta's voice, and through the smoke and dust of the explosion, Emily spotted several red and green flashes.

There were yells from the group of men, and Emily had ducked down behind the counter to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. She pulled her own wand, stunning one of the snatchers, who had his back turned to her, from her crouched position.

She had to squint to spot the vague outlines of Kate and Violetta retreating, and she crawled to the end of the counter area, standing up abruptly and stepping through the doorway after them. The hall was considerably less dusty, and standing only a few feet away from her were Kate and Violetta, wildly firing curses through the door.

She reached Kate, and their eyes met for a split second of relief. Her fingers grasped for Kate's, who had reached out to take her hand. Just as their fingertips touched, Emily was brusquely pulled back through the doorway by her hair.

"Gotcha," whispered Greyback's gravelly voice, before she felt him turn on the spot, sucking her into the vortex with her as they dissaparated.  

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