She was behaving rashly, most unlike herself. Being a Ravenclaw alumnus, Emmeline was used to theorising and strategizing the best possible route in any situation. But never did she imagine that she would be finding herself here; alone, scared and at her wit's end. She glanced bitterly at the letter she had thrown haphazardly next to her warm glass of gin.
Dearest Emmeline,
As I'm sure you have received numerous letters before mine offering only the deepest of condolences, I will not insult you further by making you sift through meaningless words that culminate in messy regret. Formalities may be lost between old friends such as ourselves. The loss we have endured goes beyond what many thought probable, even with the impending War, which at long last now seems to be upon us. I instead extend an invitation for you to join me for a drink, where we may raise our glasses in his honour.
Yours in deepest fellowhip,
-Remus
Resting her forehead against the cool mahogany of the table, she exhaled deeply. A muffled sound arose from the fireplace followed by a very acrid smell. "I see you've started without me," said Remus dryly. Emmeline looked up in time to see him survey the house, his face only registering mild disgust. Plates were stacked upon the endtables, amid crisps bags and empty bottles of Firewhiskey.
She forced a slight smile in reply, running a hand through her unwashed hair. "I meant to tidy the place up a bit but... didn't get around to it." Remus shook his head, dismissing her comment.
He made his way over to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace. "You look good," he muttered into her hair. They broke apart, Emmeline giving him a rather stern look before both snorted in a quick fit of forced laughter. With a flick of her wand, the chair across from her was pulled out and a glass of brandy was poured for him.
Remus sat down heavily and eyed the drink. Once topping her own off, Emmeline raised the glass high above her head, the contents sloshing around quite dangerously. He held his aloft as well, but with a bit more precision at the moment. Remus hesitated before saying what they were both loathe to say. "To him," he murmured, ignoring the burning sensation as he tossed the drink back. He imagined for a moment that he saw Emmeline's mouth twitch but this was quickly forgotten as she too downed the hot liquid.
Emboldened by the liquor beginning to blaze through his system, he leaned back comfortably in his chair. "People are talking, Emmy," he stated matter-of-factly. She wasted no time in dispensing another round and hastily gulped it down. "Mmm," she answered, nodding her head seriously. "People are always talking, if it's not one thing it's another."
Remus frowned, eyeing the nearly empty bottle with suspicion. "Well true as that may be, you seem to be the topic of discussion more often than not these days." Snorting, Emmeline got to her feet and clumsily made her way into the sitting room, being sure to bring the bottle with her. Remus followed once he had cleared off the table a bit, making it seem more clean for the moment.
"You're worrying me, Emmy, you're worrying the lot of us really," he continued, fully aware that the witch was squirming around like a child with her head stuck in between the cushions. "They're saying you're losing your head, going mad. Dumbledore's worried you're going to get yourself hurt on duty." She cackled, clapping her hands together wildly. "Thinking I've gone off the deep end? Bit late on that one, he is." Pouring two more glasses with less precision then a small child, she shoved one into Remus' hands. Wanting to appease her, he downed the contents, soon becoming aware that it was a bit stronger than the last.
"So how have you been feeling then?" he asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Kingsley mentioned that you took some time from work?" She rolled her eyes, losing her balance against the sofa. "It seems that before he was made Minister, Scrimgeour had the same reservations as ol' Dumbledore; thinks I'm a threat to myself..."
"Maybe you just need to grieve," suggested Remus, kneeling down in front of her. "I'm not Harry!" she cried suddenly. Remus stared at her, his jaw slack. "Don't talk to me like you do Harry. You hypocrite, bringing up grief in front of me. You won't even say his name aloud! No one will..." cried Emmeline, collapsing further unto herself.
Remus let out a muffled sob resting his head against her knee, the words, "You're right," spilling out inaudibly. She squeezed his shoulder, her face now strangely serene. "You were right about one thing though," she whispered, more to herself than anything. "I don't know what else there is for me here. And that angers me because... he'd be so disappointed in me."
He looked up, scanning her seemingly lifeless eyes. "I don't think you could ever disappoint Sirius," consoled Remus, his voice dropping at the mention of his best friend. "But he wouldn't want you to give up, tell you it's a waste of good talent." As he paused, Emmeline smiled at the thought. "You can't ask anymore from yourself then what you have to give, and at this moment that's just not giving up. Promise me now that you won't give up, Em."
Nodding absentmindedly, she wiped the palm of her hand across her face, "Easier said than done." Remus straightened himself up, quickly taking on the appearance of an important but aging wizard. "I just want to hear that you won't go out there with your eyes closed is all." Setting her jaw, Emmeline cautioned another glance in her friend's direction. "Is that what you think Sirius did?" she asked. "Because really I--"
"Please don't assume or put words into my mouth," he replied tiredly, rubbing his temples. "I was with Sirius when he left Grimmauld Place, incase you have forgotten that. He was as levelheaded as I'd seen him in weeks. I meant... I don't think I could deal with losing you, as well. You and I are the last ones really, don't think I'm strong enough to go through it all again."
Emmeline kissed his forehead, causing him to wince a little. "You're made of stronger stuff than you give yourself credit for; last of the Marauders, the ones that count anyway. Something to be said for that." Remus lightened a little at this, "How foolish was I to think that you would be somewhat incapacitated from your drink..."
"Constant vigilance!" she yelped, slapping her knee. "Even when drinking with old friends." Emmeline smiled grimly before rising and offering a hand down to Remus. "I had the guest quarters made up, you can stay here tonight if you'd like." He gladly accepted the offer and they made their way up the stairs. Reaching the landing, Remus turned to Emmeline with a heavy heart and eyes to match. "I'd like to tell you not to do anything the rest of us wouldn't, but I know you better than that. Just... keep safe."
"I will, I promise even," she replied, turning to return downstairs. "Where are you going?" asked Remus, scratching his stomach. Emmeline shrugged, "Need to talk to McGonagall."
"Is it urgent?"
"Urgent enough," she answered, putting on a brave smile once again. "I'll be fine, just a quick pop by Headquarters is all. Go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." Remus bowed his head before retiring to the guest bedroom. Emmeline made for the fireplace but stopped midstride, her ears pricking up.
It was a beautiful night and if she were lucky and the smog was light, she would be able to make out the Dogstar nestled in the heavens above. The thought made her fingers warm and as she ducked out the door and into the unusually cold, July night. Murmuring a series of indecipherable words, she locked the house behind her and set off at a brisk pace for Headquarters.
Emmeline could almost discern that she heard his voice behind her and grinned. Glancing up as she had done thousands of times before, she had no trouble in finding Sirius. "Brightest star in the sky, Emmy..." Lost in an old memory, she didn't immeadiatly notice that she was being tailed by four hooded figures. Nor did she take notice that these figures were brandishing wands.
Smiling to herself, she winked up at the star before everything went Black.
