Emmeline Vance is my favorite really underused character of Harry Potter.

I can't take back the words I never said. And the longer I wait, the louder they become.

This will kill me someday.

I turn the key slowly in the lock and hear it come undone. My hand falls to the side and my key remains where it was, stuck in the door. I take a shuddering breath.

The house is as empty as I had expected it to be. You would be long gone by now, of course. It's not like you could wait around for two years for someone to come home when they aren't anything more than a friend. I lean on the door frame. We weren't even friends before that night in 1981, really. We came together from need and mutual grief, nothing more.

Still, some part of me had hoped you'd wait for me. I didn't know time was going to slip through my fingers like sand in an hourglass. I didn't know that I would be so desperate for the open air of the world, away from the suffocation of England. I didn't know, and how was I to?

Taking a breath, I walk into the house, seeing a thin layer of dust coating the floor and the kitchen counters. There is no furniture, no sign of life. The windows are bolted and everything is dark and unwelcoming. It's exactly what I would expect of you.

Trailing one finger on the wall, I move into the small kitchen- more of a corner for cooking and storing food than anything else, really- and lean on the counter. Dust coats my fingertips but I cannot bring myself to care very much.

I used to be so much more.

To satisfy a small curiosity, I start to look through the cabinets. Dust on every shelf, and in all ten of them, the only thing I find is a small skeleton key. I lift it to my face and turn it over, staring absently. Such a simple little thing.

I pocket it and take one last look around the house. The bedroom you used to sleep in is closed, and my mind wanders- the key. Not allowing myself to hope for anything, I move toward the door and slide the key into the lock. I turn the key and hear the door come undone under the guidance of such a small piece of metal.

There's a letter on the floor.

Heart in my throat, I rush over and lift it up. Your handwriting is on the note, and I unfold it, shaking it free of dust.

Emmeline,

I'm sorry. You know how I have to move around. Sometimes our paths will break.

Try checking northern France. Remus

Short and simple, but at least I have you now.

But I know there's a chance you won't be there. I know that.

The words grow louder and I can feel the time slipping away.

Just like you. Just like me.

I brake into a run as soon as I lock the door and vanish on the corner of the road.