thirty-four

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[CHAPTER 34]

 NUMBER 2, GLOVER'S END

 I should have saved you  ]

_______________________


THEY APPARATED INTO HOGSMEADE with a crack that echoed through the little village' deserted streets. The moment her feet made contact with the cobblestoned street, Emily heard a loud wailing cat's screech accompanied by a clatter as her knees buckled. Apparating them practically across the country had been exhausting, but she had little time to recuperate as lights flickered on in several houses to investigate the commotion outside. The girls had startled a black house cat sitting on the porch of Madame Puddifoot's teashop, and it had knocked over a decorative teacup that had been standing by the door.

"We have to go," Violetta said urgently, wrapping Emily's arm around her shoulder to support her, "Nobody else can know we're here,"

"This way," Emily panted, leading them along the main road. They stopped at a side street to the left of the post office and a tall, 3 storey house with an empty, baby blue painted shop window that had been boarded up. They sidled into the street, stopping in front of a large, mahogany door off which the pale-yellow paint was peeling. A lion shaped, brass doorknocker hung in the middle, and Emily lifted it and knocked three times. The lion blinked once, lamplike yellow eyes staring at the three girls expectantly.

"Magnolia," Emily whispered, and the lion blinked again, before there was a click and Emily pushed the door open with a creak.

"Lumos," muttered Emily, and a ball of light spread from her wand towards the three lanterns on the wall, casting a dim light into the corridor.

"Looks cosy," Kate muttered, as they shuffled into the narrow entrance corridor and the heavy mahogany shut behind them with a loud thunk. There was a doorway to the left, and a small, wooden spiral staircase to the right.

"That leads to the shop," Emily panted, looking at the door, "The rest is upstairs,"

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE," shouted a loud, nasally voice, and Kate was so startled she dropped her wand. There was a chuckle to their left, and Emily glared at the painting on the wall. In it sat a wrinkled woman with white, cotton candy hair, sitting in an old mottled pink armchair and a silver-toned maine coon cat in her lap.

"None of that, Mrs. Pickett," scolded Emily, and the lady let out a half-cackle, half-giggle.

"Scared the daylights out of ya, din' I?" she said maliciously, "These your housemates, lovey? Bit peaky if you ask me,"

"Nobody did ask you," Kate grumbled, and the woman glowered at her.

"Ooh, this one's smart, ain't she?" Mrs. Pickett said, "You better watch your tone when you're in my house, lovey, I don't like rude house guests,"

"Augusta Pickett," Emily said with a sigh, "Previous homeowner until she died falling down the stairs having tripped over her cat,"

Mrs. Pickett went red in the face.

"That's n-not how it happened!" she spluttered furiously, but Emily rolled her eyes, pointed her wand at the woman and said, 'Immobulus'

At once the woman in the picture stopped moving, mouth half open and eyes furiously staring at the three girls. With another wave of Emily's wand, a small green curtain at the top of the frame unfurled itself to cover the frame.

"Old bat," Emily muttered, "Come one,"

The stairs creaked as they walk up them, bags slung over their shoulders. The stairs led them to a landing with four doorways. One of them stood open, revealing a small sitting room with the same old mottled armchair the painting of Mrs. Pickett had been sitting in, a small blackened fireplace and a tall china cabinet of which the windows were opaque with dust.

The following doors each opened to three near identical bedrooms, the only difference being the third, which looked like it had once been Mrs. Pickett's sleeping area. Frames of various moving cats lined the walls, and the bed had been made with bright yellow moth-eaten sheets. On the night stand stood a picture of what Emily assumed had once been Mrs. Pickett's husband. He was a tall, handsome man with dark hair and blue eyes, dressed in what looked like an army uniform with a severe expression on his face.

"What happened to her husband?" Kate asked, and Emily shrugged.

"I think Lupin told me he died in the Global Wizarding World, they'd barely been married a year,"

"Tragic" Violetta muttered, "Decent house though,"

"Needs a serious bout of cleaning," Kate muttered.

"I heard that," echoed Mrs. Pickett's voice faintly from the bottom of the staircase, and Emily rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh before dropping her bag onto the bed in a plume of dust.

"Let's try and get some sleep," she suggested, and Kate nodded.

"Sounds like a plan, but you get the creepy bedroom," she said, and Emily shot her a look.

She and Violetta stalked into the hallway.

"Goodnight," said Violetta, "The bedbugs will most definitely bite,"

***

Emily had barely slept a wink.

She had been awake and asleep and then awake again, her mind replaying the events of the wedding over and over in her head.

Harry's words rung through her mind, clear as day.

I don't want to be with you anymore.

I love you.

They were such conflicting statements they made Emily's head swim. She wanted to yell at him, to ask him what he had meant, to demand he would explain himself, but she couldn't. They had disappeared with no word or indication of where they were going, and Emily hadn't the faintest where any of the horcruxes even were, so going to look for the trio was out of the question. Besides, she had promised to stand by her friends, to work with the Order. As angry and confused as she was at the way her relationship had ended, Emily tried to put the issue out of her mind as she got out of bed.

The house was quiet.

When she had gotten dressed, she tip-toed across the landing towards the sitting room, stepping through it towards a door on the other end that led to a small kitchen illuminated only by a window. It was narrow, with wooden counters and light teal painted cabinets on either side of the window and a two-plate gas stove.

Opening a few cabinets, Emily managed to get her hands on a kettle, and she filled it at the tap and put it on the stove to boil.

"Morning," came Violetta's voice from the doorway, and Emily smiled at her, "Sleep okay?"

Emily shrugged. "Not really, I was too wound up if I'm honest,"

"Me too," Violetta said with a sigh, before crinkling her nose, "What does this lady have with pastel colors? Honestly,"

Emily chuckled.

Violetta eyed her friend carefully. They had been friends since the first year, and in the 5 years she had known Emily, Violetta had learned to read her friend quite well.

"What happened between you and Harry at the wedding?" she asked, and Emily looked up. Violetta's gaze bored into her, and she let out a sigh as she hoisted herself up to sit on the counter.

"We broke up," she said simply.

Violetta's expression didn't change dramatically, but she raised her eyebrows.

"Why?" she asked, and Emily shrugged.

"You know Harry. . . thinks he needs to save the world and apparently doesn't have time to worry about me anymore," she said, and while Emily didn't seem outright angry, Violetta didn't miss the undertone of bitterness in her voice.

She frowned.

"He said that?" she asked, and Emily nodded, "Ugh, sometimes men can be really stupid,"

"Tell me about it," Emily said, and to her left the kettle whistled. She hopped off the counter while Violetta rummaged in the other cupboards for some tea. When they had filled two tea-stained mugs and sat down in the sitting room, Violetta spoke up again.

"Are you okay?" she asked her, and Emily shrugged.

"I guess. . . I don't know, Vi, everything is such a mess," Emil said, and Violetta nodded.

"I know Em, I know," Violetta said, "But take some time to think about this, to feel your pain. You've soldiered on since the Battle last year and I don't think you've given yourself time to feel your emotions,"

Emily let out a small chuckle. "Where did you get a degree in psychology?"

Violetta smiled, but kept her eyes on her friend. "I'm serious Em, one of these days it's going to have to come out, and not just this stuff with Harry, but everything with your mum and with what happened last year. . ."

Emily said nothing.

". . . you don't have to white-knuckle through pain and be so tough that nothing can hurt you. You're human. If you keep doing that over and over, then you close yourself off to being able to let new people and new things into your heart. Your ability to feel, to love, it's what makes you strong Emily. And it's okay not to want to get hurt, but you're not alone. Kate and I, we're here for you, Em,"

Emily let out a small scoff. "As if you didn't have problems of your own,"

"That doesn't matter. We are friends, Emily and I love you. Just because I have burdens doesn't mean I can't or don't want to support you with yours. That's what friends are for, and I will always be there for you,"

Emily felt a burst of warmth towards Violetta, and the worry that had been knawing her insides since the wedding lessened slightly.

Violetta smiled at her. "If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you."

"You're seriously quoting Winnie the Pooh? How do you even know about Winnie the Pooh?" Emily joked, and Violetta winked.

"A magician never reveals her tricks," she said playfully, and Emily gave her a light shove.

She then leaned towards Violetta and wrapped her into a tight hug.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she felt her eyes fill with tears.

"Me too, Em," 

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