In the Hufflepuff House, there is one truth universally known- lonesomeness is a stranger to the warm badger hole embalmed in gold and black. There is always someone there to brush back tears, to bring you a warm meal, to hold your hand, to take you home for Christmas. But, this year, Emmeline shrugs off the invitations. There is something about the holidays that irks her, that brings out the ugly emerald green monster lurking in her heart. Every mince pie and ugly homemade knit sweater brings out a profound sadness- a painful yearning for a different sort of life. So this year, she stays at Hogwarts, content to be alone, to wallow in the things which were not to be for at least once in her life.
It is only on the quidditch field that Emmeline ever feels weightless. It's Christmas, and the cold air cuts through her layers, the frost touching her gently. But she doesn't mind. All she wants to do is fly, and, although she's not quite sure if she's even allowed to be there, she knows no one would bother her as Saint Nicholas' cheer overwhelmed the school.
As Emmeline feels the wind blow through her dark gossamer waves, she is untouchable. Every loop through the air spreads out the too-strong lavender perfume she spritzed herself with that morning, as if with every loop, she was leaving a bit of herself in the sky. As if she owned the sky. And the queen of the heavens certainly is above her demons, too far up for the fumes of hell to even keep her warm.
With every loop, she forgets about a weight on her chest.
One.
Her mother's newest boyfriend, who thinks she goes to an exclusive boarding school in Wales and asks her all sorts of questions she doesn't know the answers to.
Two.
Her petty criminal father, who doesn't understand that she can't (and won't) use magic to help him steal, not today, not ever.
Three.
The Slytherin beater who whispered mudblood to her in the last quidditch game and the knowledge that it would only get worse after she left school.
Four.
Five.
Six.
She kept looping, over and over, long, wide, easy turns, relishing the blood rush from being upside down. She could let go of her fears like this- concentrating only on the turns and the falls, frantically ignoring the voice inside her that chanted mum dad war mudblood mum dad war mudblood. Emmeline wanted to fly until all she could her was the rushing of her own blood.
"Aren't you getting dizzy up there, Vance?"
Emmeline stopped after gracefully completing her loop, examining the ground below her from the new upright position.
It was Marlene McKinnion, with her beautifully wild lion's mane of hair and that smarmy, happy-go-lucky, prototypically Gryffindor grin. Emmeline could already feel a headache coming on. Marlene was the kind of girl who asked a lot of questions and was exhaustingly high energy. She didn't know if she could handle it on Christmas, of all days.
But instead of her usual too-loud rant, Marlene simply said, with a flick of her heavy curls, "The holidays are a total bust, right?"
Emmeline floated her broom closer to the ground, absorbing Marlene's confession. The soundless message resonated through the field. I don't want to be alone today.
"Want to throw a quaffle around?"
With a half shrug, Marlene agreed, and a couple minutes later, was in the sky, threading past Emmeline with a surprising amount of grace.
The girls in red and yellow waltzed in the cold air, each of them forming tangled constellations with their erratic flowing movements in the heavens. Because at Hogwarts, even alone, you're a part of a puzzle, a fraction, which, no matter how irrational, couldn't defy its need for another part. No one was alone in the castle walls. They were brothers and sisters, each a butterfly wing, a lightning bug in the darkness.
And that cold winter day, what Emmeline needed was a sister. A sister in pain and promise, whose bond stretched out far past the galaxies, even if it only existed as one flickering moment in the vacuum.