*Eight years later*

Embry swirled the straw of her ice water, leaning against a stone pillar, bored. She hadn't wanted to be here. With the chance that her face would be on the newspapers for anyone to recognize. Not at all. But her mother had so insisted, that coming to an Abraxas Malfoy's politician's party would be good for her company's publicity and that she would have a chance to "Make some friends her own age!", so she went along with it. And her oblivious father, not understanding that he was to be her chaperone for the night, promptly dropped her off at the Malfoy manor and left her. The amount of trust and cluelessness her adopted parents had in the raising of her was absolutely astounding.

Her thoughts turned to the events a year prior. She had coerced the so called most powerful wizard of the decade to apparate her to Yorkshire, where she whereupon ordered him to obliviate of all his knowledge of herself, convincing him that it was for her safety of course, and to apparate back to Germany as if nothing unusual had occurred, before making her way, to the fielius protected location of the Flamel home.

She had lay in bed that night, eyes dry. Surrounded by comfort. Warm blankets. A good meal. No tears shed, no glistening of the eyes. She had felt hollow, in disbelief, denial. And the dam had broken. She broke, falling upon the floorboards, tearing at her hair, clawing at her face, tearing the flawless skin the Flawier family had always been so proud of.

An inhuman scream had rose from her throat, shrill, and muffled by her own hand over her mouth. She had hated herself. Detested the fact that she had survived. How utterly helpless she had been to help those she loved. That she had lived, while her mother had perished.

She swore that she'd never be that weak again, that she would harness her gift and learn to manipulate others such that those under her care, herself, and whomever she would learn to love would be safe. She sobbed, heart rendering sobs, clawing herself, drawing blood, damp marks of clear and dark crimson staining the floorboards visibly.

The Flamels had rushed immediately to her room, in time to stop Embry from causing any permanent damage to herself. Nicholas immediately wandlessly wrapped a blanket tightly around her, swaddling her like a young child. Perenelle conjured a rocking chair and held her, rocking her gently side to side, whispering sweet nothings, words of comfort against her ears.

She no longer needed such comfort.

*Flash!*

She flinched slightly as the light from a camera blinded her, interrupting her musings. Setting her drink down, she turned, frowning at the little slicked back blond haired woman with heavily laced mascara taking photos. The woman had the consideration to look a little guilty.

"Sorry dearie, you looked absolutely lovely standing there, I'm Ana Skeeter, I'm taking photos of the party tonight for the Prophet." Ana gave a full bright toothed smile which only served to make her fully lathered mascara look even more grotesque. "Do you mind if I get your name? I haven't seen you around before, and believe me," She leaned forward conspiracipidly. "I know everyone." She winked.

Embry forced a smile. "Charmed. My name is Embry. "

"Embry.. Embry... why does that name ring a bell?" The lady paused, staring at her face. "You wouldn't be Embry Bookwalter, her family is hideous, absolutely no sense of fashion,"

She paused again. "You couldn't be related to THE Embry Flamel?"

Embry shook her head regretfully. Regret sincere in her features. "Unfortunately not, we have no relation. I haven't the good fortune to meet anyone as famous as the likes of her."

Skeeter laughed, and leaned over conspiratorially. "None of us have! The young Flamel has never shown her face to the world despite all her pomp, fame, and fortune. And as the head of one of Britain's most well known magical skincare companies, you would think that she would at least feel some obligation to speak at an event advertising for her products, but Nooooo."

Embry laughed, "So as a distinguished member of the press, what reason do you believe the Flamel has for hiding?"

Skeeter coughed, clearing her throat, "My theory is that her face is deformed in some way, so the poor child is afraid to go out and bare the public's opinion, not to mention the negative press her company would receive as a result."

Embry nodded in agreement. Sympathizing completely with Skeeter's theory. She lay a hand on Skeeter's shoulder sympathetically. "I have another theory." Embry stated seriously with a straight face. "I believe that she's a secret member of the Department of Mysteries, and she works as an undercover spy, sampling the public's skin concentrations via use of her facial products."

Skeeter nodded rapidly, the quill in her hand vibrating frantically.

"And as to the reason she never comes out in public, well, perhaps she feels guilt for her actions and cannot bear to face the public."

Skeeter grinned broadly. "Yes! I knew there was something suspicious regarding her!"

You have no idea.

"After all, sales representatives aren't enough. No one would be that averse to public speaking and garnering support, unless they have something to hide. I'll make sure to look more into her background, stay tuned! And a responsible knowledgeable young girl like you, if you ever have the time, do read what I have to say on the Daily Prophet." She winked. "I'm sure you'd find it very informative."

Embry laughed. Skeeter was struck by the symmetry of her features. So lovely. So promising. Perhaps the girl was a model. "I'll be more than happy to read your columns Ms. Skeeter." She promised. "I look forward to seeing what you learn. Now please excuse me for a moment, I do believe I see someone I haven't spoken to in a long time. A pleasure, Ms. Skeeter."

"Of course! I'll have a column regarding her out tomorrow!"

She was so caught up in the excitement of this prospect and having gained a new reader, that she never even noticed that Embry had not once mentioned her family name.

Embry turned away, turning off her gift, the smile melting in an instant. Reporters. I suppose I should give them something to occupy their time with, least they decide to begin digging. I'll simply have to announce myself after all.


Tap tap tap

The sound of her rapid footsteps echoed in the long empty pathway. She walked past elegantly carved bushes to the large wooden door, pausing briefly to ensure the transfigured veil that hid her face served its purpose well, shielding her to the utmost extent, before she took a breath, knocked, and the doors to the Malfoy residence opened to her for a second time.

"And you miss, are?"

"Embry Flamel."


I was working on this a while back when I realized that I had completely messed up the plot, so I'm trying to clean it up. It's a work in progress lol

Happy New Year all :)