1.1.1 Chapter Thirteen: For The Longest Time
The entire room erupted in screams. Emilia clutched her hands to her face, and gasped audibly. She started to run over to her but Malfoy's quick reflexes grabbed her wrist and twisted it back, causing her to wince in pain.
"No," he said, jerking her arm. "Now you know I'm not kidding." He twisted it back, and Emilia writhed in pain, trying to turn with her arm, so that it wasn't turning inside out. "I'll take this," said Malfoy, grabbing her wand from the hand being twisted. "Don't try anything else stupid, or someone else will die. Do you understand?"
Emilia whipped her head around and gave him a cold stare. She did not answer. She was beyond pissed. She was absolutely furious. If she didn't keep herself in check, Malfoy would probably be dead.
She yanked her arm away, and massaged it from the pain. She looked down at it, after rolling up the gold sleeve. It was already turning red, and the outside was becoming purple.
"All of you, hear this," Malfoy said loudly. "I don't expect any of you will live after tonight; and if your Professor here keeps up her tongue," he paused, and smiled at her in a cynical way, to which Emilia replied with a disgusted look, "more of you will die quicker. It is in your very best interest to keep your traps shut." The way he spoke, Emilia noticed, was like Malfoys do: in a dominating, no-nonsense way. He was dead serious.
Emilia rolled her eyes, and continued to rub her arm. He was so damn melodramatic at times. In fact, thinking about melodrama made her want to cry…. Melodrama made her think of Severus, and the others. How were the others faring? Did they make it to safety? Are there anymore dead? Those questions popping up put a permanent feeling of despair in her stomach.
Most of the Gryffindors were sitting in small clumps, the first years surrounded by the seventh, all looking out for each other. Lavender Brown, who was Patil's best friend, was huddled near her body, silent sobs racking her little body as she lay on top of her friend. Emilia looked over and felt her heart pull a few strings. She was sorry that she ever tried to escape from here. She was the cause of that death. If she'd just kept her tongue…Parvati Patil would be alive.
She was a pretty girl, and an aspiring Divination student. How could she have been so careless to let one of her students die? Reasoning pardoned in with the fact that more will die all over the castle before the night's end, however this death was quite personal. It made her feel like she could do nothing right. She caused the death of one of the students she was looking out for.
Emilia resolved right then and there that she would do whatever it took to get them all out of here alive. She would do absolutely everything in her power to be a peacemaker, not a fighter. She would go against all she knew to save them.
She just hoped that they saw it that way. She hoped that they wouldn't blame her fully. Emilia was trying to save them. She just wasn't going about it in the right way, she realized. All of them looked frightfully scared, and every single on of them had a look on their face that was plain misery and sorrow.
Malfoy turned around and walked back to the front of the room. Emilia saw him twirling her wand in his fingers, and for the first time that night, she felt like she'd run out of ideas. She had no idea what to do, how to get them all to safety. How to keep them alive, even. The six other Death Eaters were now completely surrounding the other students, all of them situated around the huddled groups quietly and they were standing very still.
Emilia glanced around nervously. She rolled down the sleeve and crossed her arms, hunching over to hope to give her warmth. Emilia made a move to sit down and immediately Malfoy had grabbed her under the arm and jerked her back up. "No, Miss Black," he said, reverting back to his formalities. "You shall stand."
Malfoy looked around, watching the groups. Emilia realized he was picking out people, like who was going to die next. He glanced at his watch, still holding onto Emilia. "It's time," said Malfoy, still looking down at his watch. His head jerked up, and he signaled to his other comrades. "I want those prepubescent red heads over there," he pointed to the other door, "and you and Potter are coming with me."
Emilia ripped her hand from his grip. "Where are we going?" she said, stepping back. She was trying to keep her voice as level as she could have it, but she did not want to meet "Lord Voldemort" in any circumstances...not again.
One of the hooded people walked into the small crowd and grabbed Potter by the arms and shoved him to where Emilia and Malfoy stood, causing him to fall to the floor in a heap. He looked up and gave Malfoy a look of extreme loathing—to put it simply, the one she usually wore. Potter stood up and brushed off his robes, and then moved over to where Emilia stood. At least, he wasn't all that angry with her about that whole trying-to- escape-and-backfiring thing. Emilia moved further back from Malfoy. After his little trick earlier, she couldn't trust him any further than she could throw him.
While Emilia was noticing this, Malfoy was noticing Potter's moves. If the look that Potter shot at Malfoy was bad, the look that he gave Potter back was similar if not worse.
"You think that teacher will offer any protection?" he sneered at Potter, and glared at Emilia, like she did something equally as wrong. "The protection she offered you students has resulted in death. Try to see that that way." Malfoy turned around to walk, and whipped his head around, like he forgot something. He bent his head down, and his pale blonde hair fell into his face. "I almost forgot," he said in a whisper, "please, Potter, give me your wand. We don't want any tricks from you on the way to your death." He snickered, and tilted his head up a little, looking at Potter. Malfoy moved his and out and held it for Potter to put his wand in.
Potter stood absolutely still. "You think I've got my wand?" he said, incredulously. "Do you know what time it is? Do you think I had any time to get my wand before coming down here?" Potter looked at him in such a way that it was pure rebellion. Emilia winced as she saw Malfoy wind up, his eyes narrowing.
Malfoy looked up, his eyes completely one shade of icy blue. "Are you sassing me, boy?" he asked maliciously. He made a grab for Potter's robes, to physically assault him, but Emilia moved in front of his attempt and instead he ended up grabbing Emilia. "What the hell are you doing?" he said, both of his hands gripped to the golden fabric.
Emilia looked up placidly. Potter will not be harmed if she had anything to do about it. "He said he doesn't have his wand," she said calmly. "And he wasn't sassing you."
Malfoy brought her forward quickly and shoved her back into Potter, who caught her around the waist before she fell. "You're lucky your father made me promise not to hurt you," he breathed in, scowling.
Emilia looked up at him, and stood up straight, brushing off her robes. "Well, then I'll have to thank Daddy," she said loftily. She glanced at him. "Didn't you have to be somewhere?" she said quickly, almost as if his incompetence was pissing her off.
Malfoy made a face at her and turned around. Emilia walked after him and felt something poke into her back. Emilia looked to her said, and saw Potter smiling, twirling his wand between his fingers. She got the idea, and while continuing to watch Malfoy's exiting body, took the wand and slipped it inside her robe sleeve. He knew that she didn't have a wand; he wouldn't look for her to get the wand.
Malfoy was waiting for them to step out, and then grabbed Emilia's arm. "You're taking far too much time," he said. "The Master doesn't like to wait."
"I'm sure," Potter muttered under his breath. Emilia had to bite her tongue to keep from snickering. He jerked her arm roughly noticing her reaction and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Potter.
"Such a pity the Imperius Curse doesn't work on you," he said with a sigh. "However, I doubt even you can resist the charm of the Killing Curse."
"And I doubt even you can perform it on me. I doubt your 'Master' would be pleased you killed me," Potter replied pompously, crossing his arms across his chest in a brat-like manner. Emilia was bewildered by Potter's actions. Was he trying to piss Malfoy off? Or was he that sure they would make it? Even she wasn't sure they would make it.
"Don't be too sure of that, Potter," said Malfoy angrily. She felt his nails dig into her skin, and she winced noticeably. Potter gave her a quizzical look, and realized what was happening to her. He touched her other arm gently and continued walking silently. Malfoy assumed he'd won, and nodded arrogantly before dragging Emilia forward with harshness.
"Will you stop that?" she said with a tone of anger in her voice. "That hurts." She yanked her arm out of his reach, rubbing her forearm protectively.
"It's supposed to," Malfoy said, with a bit of unpleasantness in his voice.
Emilia felt the wand in her other arm. The weight of the wand lay against her arm, like the weight of a terrible decision. It was a decision to make. It was the choice to get out of here. Hogwarts, the last of the safe places, had been invaded right under Dumbledore's nose. How could that have happened? How many more of them would she and Potter come across as they made their way back to the Great Hall? And where was everyone else?
All these unanswered questions were making her very uneasy. She didn't know what to do. She felt helpless and alone, and for the first time in her life, she felt that all her choices, everything she decided to do, was wrong. She'd been the sole responsibility of those students, and one of those students died.
What was she going to do now? She really had no idea where to start—the more time she took, the closer she and Potter were going to be to the source of the problem: Lord Voldemort.
This night was going to weigh heavily on her heart.
The entire room erupted in screams. Emilia clutched her hands to her face, and gasped audibly. She started to run over to her but Malfoy's quick reflexes grabbed her wrist and twisted it back, causing her to wince in pain.
"No," he said, jerking her arm. "Now you know I'm not kidding." He twisted it back, and Emilia writhed in pain, trying to turn with her arm, so that it wasn't turning inside out. "I'll take this," said Malfoy, grabbing her wand from the hand being twisted. "Don't try anything else stupid, or someone else will die. Do you understand?"
Emilia whipped her head around and gave him a cold stare. She did not answer. She was beyond pissed. She was absolutely furious. If she didn't keep herself in check, Malfoy would probably be dead.
She yanked her arm away, and massaged it from the pain. She looked down at it, after rolling up the gold sleeve. It was already turning red, and the outside was becoming purple.
"All of you, hear this," Malfoy said loudly. "I don't expect any of you will live after tonight; and if your Professor here keeps up her tongue," he paused, and smiled at her in a cynical way, to which Emilia replied with a disgusted look, "more of you will die quicker. It is in your very best interest to keep your traps shut." The way he spoke, Emilia noticed, was like Malfoys do: in a dominating, no-nonsense way. He was dead serious.
Emilia rolled her eyes, and continued to rub her arm. He was so damn melodramatic at times. In fact, thinking about melodrama made her want to cry…. Melodrama made her think of Severus, and the others. How were the others faring? Did they make it to safety? Are there anymore dead? Those questions popping up put a permanent feeling of despair in her stomach.
Most of the Gryffindors were sitting in small clumps, the first years surrounded by the seventh, all looking out for each other. Lavender Brown, who was Patil's best friend, was huddled near her body, silent sobs racking her little body as she lay on top of her friend. Emilia looked over and felt her heart pull a few strings. She was sorry that she ever tried to escape from here. She was the cause of that death. If she'd just kept her tongue…Parvati Patil would be alive.
She was a pretty girl, and an aspiring Divination student. How could she have been so careless to let one of her students die? Reasoning pardoned in with the fact that more will die all over the castle before the night's end, however this death was quite personal. It made her feel like she could do nothing right. She caused the death of one of the students she was looking out for.
Emilia resolved right then and there that she would do whatever it took to get them all out of here alive. She would do absolutely everything in her power to be a peacemaker, not a fighter. She would go against all she knew to save them.
She just hoped that they saw it that way. She hoped that they wouldn't blame her fully. Emilia was trying to save them. She just wasn't going about it in the right way, she realized. All of them looked frightfully scared, and every single on of them had a look on their face that was plain misery and sorrow.
Malfoy turned around and walked back to the front of the room. Emilia saw him twirling her wand in his fingers, and for the first time that night, she felt like she'd run out of ideas. She had no idea what to do, how to get them all to safety. How to keep them alive, even. The six other Death Eaters were now completely surrounding the other students, all of them situated around the huddled groups quietly and they were standing very still.
Emilia glanced around nervously. She rolled down the sleeve and crossed her arms, hunching over to hope to give her warmth. Emilia made a move to sit down and immediately Malfoy had grabbed her under the arm and jerked her back up. "No, Miss Black," he said, reverting back to his formalities. "You shall stand."
Malfoy looked around, watching the groups. Emilia realized he was picking out people, like who was going to die next. He glanced at his watch, still holding onto Emilia. "It's time," said Malfoy, still looking down at his watch. His head jerked up, and he signaled to his other comrades. "I want those prepubescent red heads over there," he pointed to the other door, "and you and Potter are coming with me."
Emilia ripped her hand from his grip. "Where are we going?" she said, stepping back. She was trying to keep her voice as level as she could have it, but she did not want to meet "Lord Voldemort" in any circumstances...not again.
One of the hooded people walked into the small crowd and grabbed Potter by the arms and shoved him to where Emilia and Malfoy stood, causing him to fall to the floor in a heap. He looked up and gave Malfoy a look of extreme loathing—to put it simply, the one she usually wore. Potter stood up and brushed off his robes, and then moved over to where Emilia stood. At least, he wasn't all that angry with her about that whole trying-to- escape-and-backfiring thing. Emilia moved further back from Malfoy. After his little trick earlier, she couldn't trust him any further than she could throw him.
While Emilia was noticing this, Malfoy was noticing Potter's moves. If the look that Potter shot at Malfoy was bad, the look that he gave Potter back was similar if not worse.
"You think that teacher will offer any protection?" he sneered at Potter, and glared at Emilia, like she did something equally as wrong. "The protection she offered you students has resulted in death. Try to see that that way." Malfoy turned around to walk, and whipped his head around, like he forgot something. He bent his head down, and his pale blonde hair fell into his face. "I almost forgot," he said in a whisper, "please, Potter, give me your wand. We don't want any tricks from you on the way to your death." He snickered, and tilted his head up a little, looking at Potter. Malfoy moved his and out and held it for Potter to put his wand in.
Potter stood absolutely still. "You think I've got my wand?" he said, incredulously. "Do you know what time it is? Do you think I had any time to get my wand before coming down here?" Potter looked at him in such a way that it was pure rebellion. Emilia winced as she saw Malfoy wind up, his eyes narrowing.
Malfoy looked up, his eyes completely one shade of icy blue. "Are you sassing me, boy?" he asked maliciously. He made a grab for Potter's robes, to physically assault him, but Emilia moved in front of his attempt and instead he ended up grabbing Emilia. "What the hell are you doing?" he said, both of his hands gripped to the golden fabric.
Emilia looked up placidly. Potter will not be harmed if she had anything to do about it. "He said he doesn't have his wand," she said calmly. "And he wasn't sassing you."
Malfoy brought her forward quickly and shoved her back into Potter, who caught her around the waist before she fell. "You're lucky your father made me promise not to hurt you," he breathed in, scowling.
Emilia looked up at him, and stood up straight, brushing off her robes. "Well, then I'll have to thank Daddy," she said loftily. She glanced at him. "Didn't you have to be somewhere?" she said quickly, almost as if his incompetence was pissing her off.
Malfoy made a face at her and turned around. Emilia walked after him and felt something poke into her back. Emilia looked to her said, and saw Potter smiling, twirling his wand between his fingers. She got the idea, and while continuing to watch Malfoy's exiting body, took the wand and slipped it inside her robe sleeve. He knew that she didn't have a wand; he wouldn't look for her to get the wand.
Malfoy was waiting for them to step out, and then grabbed Emilia's arm. "You're taking far too much time," he said. "The Master doesn't like to wait."
"I'm sure," Potter muttered under his breath. Emilia had to bite her tongue to keep from snickering. He jerked her arm roughly noticing her reaction and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Potter.
"Such a pity the Imperius Curse doesn't work on you," he said with a sigh. "However, I doubt even you can resist the charm of the Killing Curse."
"And I doubt even you can perform it on me. I doubt your 'Master' would be pleased you killed me," Potter replied pompously, crossing his arms across his chest in a brat-like manner. Emilia was bewildered by Potter's actions. Was he trying to piss Malfoy off? Or was he that sure they would make it? Even she wasn't sure they would make it.
"Don't be too sure of that, Potter," said Malfoy angrily. She felt his nails dig into her skin, and she winced noticeably. Potter gave her a quizzical look, and realized what was happening to her. He touched her other arm gently and continued walking silently. Malfoy assumed he'd won, and nodded arrogantly before dragging Emilia forward with harshness.
"Will you stop that?" she said with a tone of anger in her voice. "That hurts." She yanked her arm out of his reach, rubbing her forearm protectively.
"It's supposed to," Malfoy said, with a bit of unpleasantness in his voice.
Emilia felt the wand in her other arm. The weight of the wand lay against her arm, like the weight of a terrible decision. It was a decision to make. It was the choice to get out of here. Hogwarts, the last of the safe places, had been invaded right under Dumbledore's nose. How could that have happened? How many more of them would she and Potter come across as they made their way back to the Great Hall? And where was everyone else?
All these unanswered questions were making her very uneasy. She didn't know what to do. She felt helpless and alone, and for the first time in her life, she felt that all her choices, everything she decided to do, was wrong. She'd been the sole responsibility of those students, and one of those students died.
What was she going to do now? She really had no idea where to start—the more time she took, the closer she and Potter were going to be to the source of the problem: Lord Voldemort.
This night was going to weigh heavily on her heart.