A/N: This kind of wrote itself. I seem to like writing Marauder Era these days :) Anyway, there's that little button at the bottom... *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*... that you can click if you want to review this. Enjoy!

Emmeline Apparated on the dirt path that led up to the house that Fabian and Gideon shared. She blinked once, taking in her surroundings; distantly, she remembered the hot summer days the three of them would race up the trees on either side of the path, calling to each other. Those days seemed so far away, now... When they had been children, they didn't worry about Voldemort taking over their world. When they were children, all they worried about was whether Molly would catch them as the perpetrator for their pranks (she usually did), or when Emmeline's mother would call her back for supper.

She climbed up the steps of the porch, splattered with yellow, green, purple, red, and lime green paint: the result of a violent paint war between her and the twins. Mr and Mrs Prewett had never bothered to paint it back to its original yellow. She took in the familiar rocking chair, the dead rosebushes under the windows (Fabian and Gideon had never been horticulturists), and Laney, the black cat the brothers possessed that lay curled up beside the flower pots, snoring softly.

Emmeline stepped onto the welcome mat and knocked at the door, three desperate sounds.

A young red-haired man with a freckled face and hazel eyes opened. They widened when he caught sight of Emmeline, standing there in the middle of the night. "Emmy?" he said hesitantly, using her childhood nickname. "Erm... What are you doing here?"

Her eyes blurred; she cried at the drop of a hat, these days. "I need to talk to you."

Fabian let her in, leading her into the sitting room. "Wait here," he said in his quiet voice. "I'll go fix up some cocoa for the two of us, okay?" Molly, his sister, believed that a cup of tea could fix anything; he believed the same from a cup of cocoa. Emmeline nodded, looking at her feet.

He came back five minutes later, depositing a steaming mug of cocoa in front of her. "I put in marshmallows," Fabian told her. "Drink, it'll make you feel better."

Emmeline bit her lip and raised the cup hesitantly to her lips. He was right; the burning, sweet liquid did feel on her lips, in her mouth. She closed her eyes and drank until there was none left; then she found her best friend staring at her. "What's up?"

She breathed in and reddened. "I'mpregnantFab," she blurted out.

Fabian cocked his head at her, mouth slightly agape. "You're pregnant?"

"Aye," Emmeline whispered, tears spilling into her lap now. She buried her face in her hands. "I-I know what you're going to say, Fab, b-but I honestly don't know how it happened..." She sniffled. "It was only on-once, and when you know," she blushed, as Fabian did as well, "well, it was late, I did the test... Three times, c-couldn't b-believe it... I c-can't b-bring a child into this world, Fab..."

He reached out and held her into his arms. "There, there," he said. He tried to sound delicate as he stroked her hair. "Were you – were you raped, Em?"

"N-no!" she shook her head vehemently, burying her face into his shoulder. "Was my fault," she mumbled.

Fabian patted her back. "Who's the father?"

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to ask. She stared at him, fresh tears forming, but Emmeline wiped them away. She looked away as she answered, so softly Fabian had to strain his ears to hear her. "H-he's a - a Death Eater," she choked out.

His mind was reeling. In this world, things like this simply did not happen – best friends did not go off with the enemy, did not get pregnant with a filthy murderer's child... It was easier to think that Emmeline had simply gotten raped, horrible as it may be, as Fabian's mind simply could not process the fact that Emmeline, the Emmy that he and Gid had known since childhood, would go sleep willingly with a Death Eater.

"Which?" he asked, though he really did not want to know the answer, plain and simple. "Which Death Eater, Emmy?" When she didn't answer, he bombarded her with questions. "Goyle? Crabbe? Dolohov? Nott? Malfoy?" Every name sounded more horrible than the other, to his ears. "Yaxley? Travers? Jugson?"

She shook her head, no, at every one of them.

Fabian was getting angry. "Don't make me play this guessing game, Emmeline," he snapped. "Just tell me already."

She glared, crossing her arms. "Fine!" she spat at him. "You really want to know? I slept with Igor Karkaroff, okay?"

Silence hung between like a curtain. The tension was so thick that you could through it like a knife, and for once in his life, Fabian wished that Gideon and his lame jokes were here to spare them. Unfortunately, his brother was probably at Marlene's again, the two of them sleeping the night away with Firewhiskey.

"What happened?" he asked. He realised with a jolt that he wasn't just asking because she cared about her; he was also asking because he cared about himself. Emmeline had been a part of them were so long that he sometimes forgot that she wasn't their triplet, perhaps; losing her, he thought, would be like losing Gideon.

Like losing a limb, a part of himself.

She rocked back and forth; she had long since moved to the other end of the couch. "Caradoc had broken up with – with me," she whispered, blinking several times like a lost house elf. "I was... to be s-simply p-put, really sad. I went to – to this pub in Knockturn Alley with Marlene, she – she said she went there often... And..." Emmeline closed her eyes. "He was there. Karkaroff. At the counter, arguing with the barmaid. I missed Caradoc, I really did... I was pretty damn drunk after two or three shots... Marlie had left – before asking me if I was going to be o-okay... I think I said y-yes. Then I was alone, with him... He looked a bit like Doc – you know, same colouring, same colour of eyes, same hair colour? I – I shacked up with him."

Her face was red and blotchy as she glared at him. "Go on and call me a slut," she challenged, remarkably changed, yet still the same old Emmeline underneath, Fabian realised.

Without realising it, he scooted closer to her. "You know," he said slowly, "you know the saying 'desperate times call for desperate measures'? I think you qualify there." When there was a hint of a smile on her face, he continued, "Are you keeping the baby?"

She nodded grimly. "I can't bring a child into this world... But it would feel vile to abort. Like I was no better than them." She touched her stomach gently with a finger where, Fabian imagined, a small peanut of a life was blossoming. "I already love this baby, no matter his father."

Fabian took this in. "Did you see Karkaroff afterwards?"

"No... H-he doesn't know," Emmeline said, confused.

Fabian closed his eyes; he didn't know how to say this. "You should tell him," he said, surprising even himself. "He was sober when you – you know, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I highly doubt that Death Eaters sleep with random Order women," Fabian told her drily. "If he did sleep with you... a blood traitor, y'know... Either he's extremely desperate for sex, or he cares less about this whole Voldemort scheme than he lets it show."

Emmeline lifted her face to his. "You think I should?" she murmured.

"Yeah," Fabian nodded. "Then, you can take it from there."

She had a small, embarrassed smile. "Thanks." Emmeline glanced at her empty mug of cocoa and grinned at him. "For everything."

"No problem," he said. "That's what best friends are for, isn't it?"

He followed her to the door, where she turned to him. "Can you not tell anyone," she pleaded, "not even Gid?"

Fabian frowned, but nodded. He didn't like keeping secrets from his twin; then again, Gideon was known for his big mouth, and Fabian didn't think that Dumbledore would be too happy if he found out that one of his Order of the Phoenix members was pregnant with a Death Eater's child... By keeping Emmeline's secret, he was protecting her, too.

"Emmeline!" he called after her, as she walked down the dirt path. "What are you going to tell Marlene and all when you... you know, show?"

She stared at him, biting her lip, and replied, "I'll say that I don't know the identity of the father. That he was a Muggle I broke up with." She shrugged. "I'll find something when the time comes, Fab. See you round at the next meeting?"

"Yeah," Fabian said. "Okay, Em."

He watched her leave, and then closed the door, yawning. He would change his shirt – then he'd go to bed. Oh, he was so bloody tired.

His last thought before he succumbed to sleep: Some things are best kept secret.