She's sixteen, tall, dignified, everything that he is.
She's a Ravenclaw, smart, silent.
She's never even looked at him.
"Hello," he says coolly one day as they pass in the hall. She rolls her ice-blue eyes and inclines her head in recognition. "You won't even talk to me?"
"I just prefer not to," she says calmly, and walks away.
A slight shiver goes through his body, and he has to fight not to get angry. Who does this girl think she is, acting as though she's higher in status than him and making him feel so oddly?
They have Potions together, and he sacrifices his loyal cronies' attention to set his books next to her. "Hello."
She doesn't respond until halfway through the lesson, her eyes on the potion she's mixing.
"Don't you have friends?"
"Of course," he says, indicating Montague, Zabini, and Lestrange.
She raises her eyebrows. "I mean real friends."
"What?" he asks incredulously. "Er, pardon me, what was that?" She must be mad.
She leans over her cauldron, her hair shading her face from view. She looks at him again a moment later, and he sees a tiny hint of amusement in her eyes. "Real friends."
"Yes. I think you are mistaken—Gregorio and I have been friends since birth." He nods to Zabini as though it clears everything up.
"That doesn't make you friends. Real friends. Don't you know anything about real?" she wants to know, still keeping her voice cool and calculating.
"Of course I do!" he bristles. What right has she got to be lecturing him on real friends?
She just raises her perfect, thin eyebrows again disbelievingly.
"I mean, real is…respect. My friends respect me." He scrambles to defend himself from that look.
"Do you respect them?" The question is soft, full of meaning. He shrugs and begins to chop up some sort of root.
"Er—I mean, why should I? They are just lazy lumps who need a leader."
"Sounds very friendly," she murmurs, and if he isn't mistaken, he thinks he catches a hint of a smile on her prim face.
"Ms. Emmeline Vance is now inducted on this twenty-eighth day of November into the Honorable and Well-Meaning Order of the Phoenix founded by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore on that thirteenth day of October one year prior." It's read in a monotone by Alastor Moody, the Auror she recognizes from his many scars.
"Your first assignment," Dumbledore says pleasantly, "is to locate as many Death Eaters as you can, particularly Severus Snape—" Lily Potter gives a quiet, anguished sigh—"Bellatrix Lestrange—" Sirius Black curses—"and Lucius Malfoy."
She nearly collapses. Lucius? From her schooldays, the annoying, aloof boy who didn't understand love or real friendship? She can't believe it, won't, but in some ways she can and must.
"Yes, sir," she murmurs, proud suddenly of making it to this organization, this Order. Because he never did—because she so wants and wanted him to be good—because he can't, isn't—and because now she can take a stand against him.
She remembers the strange feeling in her stomach that day in Potions, how he'd sometimes smile at her in the halls after that, how he so amused her. And now he's turned to an unstable, power-hungry madman instead of the Order. Unnatural rage bubbles up almost immediately, but it is easily squashed.
She's taking a stand.
A/N: I'm really proud of this one, actually. Written when I was supposed to be writing something else…xD I really have come to love Emmeline (thank you Cuba, who corrected my spelling!), so writing her is always a pleasure. And a fun Lucius Malfoy was awesome to write!
It's written for the Never Before Seen Pairing Challenge—Emmeline/Lucius. Everyone, go check out the HPFC (link on my profile); it ROCKS!
Reviews are the only payment I'll probably ever get for my writing (contrary to my dreams, but…) so could you please leave a little something? "Horrible", "Lovely", "Eew", "Cute" and "OMG I LOVED IT/HATED IT SOOOO MUCH!!" will suffice. But lengthy reviews are adored!!
