A/N: For QL Round 5. Character: Emmeline Vance. Scene: Graduation
Prompts used: the John Barrymore quote and (word) tiptoe
Slight AU.
Under normal circumstances, she would speak her mind, but with a wand against her head she decided against it. She had tiptoed, but he had always been a light sleeper.
"It's me," Emmeline hissed in the darkness. His grip on her shoulder loosened for a split second; then he clenched even harder.
"I told you to get lost!" he whispered into her ear.
"Since when did I listen to you, Reg?"
Regulus let go of her shoulder and threw his wand onto his bed. "It's too late, Em," he told her. He pulled up his sleeve.
Emmeline stared.
"No," she breathed. "Please tell me you're joking. Please tell me you didn't."
Regulus pulled his sleeve back down. "I did."
She didn't speak to him for days. After a while, the silence became unbearable.
"I'm going to talk to him," she declared.
James stopped eating and Lily's eyes grew wide. "Em…"
"What? You know, you think he's all bad and all, but he's really not. His family's pressuring him–"
"Well, Sirius here isn't a bloody Death Eater," James pointed out. Emmeline went pale.
"Keep your voice down!" warned Lily.
"I don't know why you bother," Sirius muttered. He continued reading the Daily Prophet.
"Well he's my friend, and I'm going to try my best to help him." Emmeline swallowed the last of her pumpkin juice and walked towards the Slytherin table. She plopped down to the seat next to Regulus.
"Why? Why, Reggie?"
"I had to," was his reply.
"Oh, please," Emmeline said, "you and I both know that you always have another way out. It's us Slytherins' motto!"
"I don't feel very Slytherin-y at the moment."
Emmeline's playfully nudged him. "Hey, look at that. Regulus Black is back!"
Regulus glanced at Emmeline. "Sitting with those Gryffindors, I'm not sure if you deserve to be called a Slytherin anymore, either."
The sixteen-year-old girl's smile faltered. "Come on, Reg, they're my friends." Regulus stayed quiet.
"He's not good, Reg. He intends to prosecute everything other than purebloods!"
"Yes, that's sort of the point, Em."
Emmeline was taken aback. "How can you say that? When your own best friend is a half-blood?"
"Well, obviously you don't count."
"What do you mean, I don't count?"
"Well, it's not your fault your father is a Muggle, is it? It's the Muggleborns that don't deserve to be part of the Wizarding world. They come here, intrude our community, our home…"
"Listen to yourself, Regulus! Listen to what you're saying!"
"Shouldn't we be able to reveal ourselves to the Muggles? Shouldn't we be able to live freely, without having to worry about what the Muggles will think? Why do we have to live in hiding, when we are the more powerful?"
"You don't know what you're saying, Regulus–"
"I know exactly what I'm saying, thank you very much."
Under normal circumstances, she would've dubbed him a lost cause, though she wouldn't give up on him no matter how many times he broke her.
"So, how's life now, follower of Voldemort, the Great and Powerful?"
Regulus's eyes flickered dangerously. "The Dark Lord is powerful and has great intentions."
"Great, but how about good?"
"Give it a rest, Vance. This is who I am now."
Emmeline's face fell. He had never called her Vance, always Em or Emmeline or Emmy or Emma–but never Vance.
"I refuse to believe that."
"Too stubborn for you own good, Vance."
Sixth Year ended too soon for her own liking. She was worried about what Regulus might do during the summer. Most of their conversations for the last three months have been one-sided.
Under normal circumstances, she would've been happy to see her parents again, though this time she only felt misery as she saw Regulus leave the platform without even saying goodbye.
Sometime in mid-March, Regulus told Emmeline that he felt like an old man. It was the first time he had spoken to her in their Seventh Year; despite all the times Emmeline had attempted to start a conversation.
"And why is that?" She was overjoyed that Regulus had finally spoken to her, and tried (poorly) to hide her happiness.
"There is a quote by a Muggle named John Barrymore–'A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams.'"
Emmeline raised her eyebrows. "Quoting Muggles, now, I see. I thought they were 'the inferior race.'"
Regulus ignored her. "Meet me at the Room of Requirement at seven. Ask for me."
The clock couldn't tick any slower. Transfiguration felt like hours, History of Magic like forever. Finally, the day was over and her watch –the one she got for her seventeenth–read quarter to seven. She headed towards the Room of Requirement.
A tall oak door appeared after she walked back and forth three times keeping Regulus in mind. She walked in and saw him sitting in a chair. The room was plain–four white walls and a cement floor–with nothing other than two chairs, a wooden table and a game of chess.
"You know I'm awful at chess," Emmeline said as she took a seat.
"I'm well aware," Regulus replied, his lips curving up. It was the first time Emmeline had seen him smile in Merlin knew how long.
They played three times (each time ending a victory for Regulus) and Emmeline felt overjoyed. It had been ages since they've laughed and joked.
"So," Emmeline said after her third defeat, "why'd you ask me to come?"
Regulus closed his eyes. "I need to ask you something."
Under normal circumstances, her answer would've been no, without a doubt. However, he was the exception. He always has been.
"Okay."
"Okay? You think it's a good idea?"
"I think it's a terrible idea."
Regulus laughed. "Okay good. I know where the first Horcrux is."
Emmeline's mouth dropped open. "How?"
"I have my ways," he said mysteriously. Emmeline rolled her eyes.
"So, let's hear it then."
"Here what?"
"Emmeline, you were right. I should've listened to you but no, I am a selfish prat who loves no one but himself–"
"I love you, that's ought to count for something."
Emmeline froze. "Sorry?"
"I said, I love you, that's ought to count for something," Regulus repeated.
"You–"
"Yes, I do. You know, for the second smartest Slytherin in the Seventh Year, you're really quite dull sometimes."
Emmeline struggled for words.
"Also," Regulus said nonchalantly, "there was one other thing I wanted to ask you."
Emmeline cleared her throat. "And what was that?"
"Miss Vance–will you marry me?"
He knew. He knew that he wasn't going to make it back alive after switching the locket for the fake one; he knew that he wasn't ever going to see her again. He knew and he asked her to marry him.
Even worse–she said yes.
Under normal circumstances, she would've picked herself back up again and carried on, but this time the sound of her heart shattering was too loud for the march to go on.
She spent graduation alone. Of course, she celebrated with her Gryffindor friends for a bit, but in the corner of her eye she would see a shadow–Regulus's shadow. Whenever she turned her head the shadow would disappear and in its place a reminder that her best friend was gone. Dead, no more, permanently absent.
She spent the rest of her last day locked up in her dorm thinking about what he told her that night in the Room of Requirement; the night before he died. How he realized everything he had believed was wrong, how he learned that Voldemort was not the way, how he knew that he needed to be stopped. He told her that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was cruel; however, at this moment in time, Emmeline thought that it was Regulus Black who was crueler.