Fifty-four days.
Fifty-four days until she could breathe again.
Emily stared out into the courtyard from her cracked window. The younger children were playing, not a care in the world. They were happy, not even the horrors of the bombings had tamped down on their spirits yet. To them, the orphanage was truly a family. They hadn't yet lived enough, they hadn't seen the cruel realities of this prison, they still had a spark of hope for a better life. The orphanage to them was like an extended day-care until their true family arrived.
For most, it never would.
She didn't see any of her contemporaries. It was better that way. Everyone at the orphanage feared her, but the younger kids only did it because they had been taught to. None of them had ever really interacted with her. It meant that their fear was more muted, they simply gave her latitude. Some of them were curious and made like they were going to approach her, but they all darted away once she made eye contact. It was a game they played, seeing who could get closest to the freak.
But it was still better than the kids she grew up with. They truly feared and despised her, looked at her like some sort of monster. Even now, as she'd begun to blossom into a beautiful young woman, the boys recoiled at the sight of her.
It was partly justified, maybe even fully justified if she were honest with herself. She'd been a terror back then. Back when she hadn't known friendship, when she'd had delusions of grandeur and thought herself a superior being. She'd done horrible things, things she regretted. But nothing could be done about it now.
She went to her small wooden desk with the broken leg, held up by a stack of encyclopedias she'd once stolen from the local library. She opened the drawer and pulled out a large book.
The Potter Family Magic was written across the faded leather binding in gold lettering.
She couldn't help the smile that sprouted at the memory of when she'd received the book. She'd been left speechless. How could he just give this to her? If his father found out, he'd surely be apoplectic. Ancient families did not go around giving out their family grimoires, and certainly not to a fourteen year old girl that would be going off to a muggle orphanage.
She opened the book and read. She couldn't perform magic here, but she spent every waking moment studying it.
She'd already read the entire book, but she would go through it again, many many times, until she could commit it to memory. There was nothing overly dark, like one would find in the Black or Rosier families' own versions, but Emily had long since learned that focusing only on dark magic was to severely limit oneself. The Potters were famous enchanters and potioneers, and that was reflected in this book.
And yet Harry is rubbish at potions.
She giggled, the sound bouncing off the walls in her room. Her friend wasn't truly rubbish, but he certainly didn't have a gift for the art like she did. Well, she had a gift for everything, but that was besides the point.
She went over a particular passage on theory. She loved theory, and to her joy the Potter Grimoire favored it over listing specific enchantments and potions. There was plenty of that, but there was more of a focus on why certain things worked the way they did. The Grimoire gave her a much more in-depth understanding of the interaction between magic and objects than anything at Hogwarts. With this, she would be able to do so much more in the coming year…
There was a knock at her door.
Emily slid the grimoire back into the drawer and closed it shut. She grabbed her wand from the desk.
No one ever knocked on her door. She went down to lunch and dinner when she pleased, collected her food and returned to her room. No one ever knocked. Not even Ms. Cole knocked on her door anymore. Her door was at the end of the hall, none of them ever even approached.
There was another knock.
With a frown, Emily slowly crept towards the door. She wanted so badly to cast a spell. To see who was on the other side of that door.
She could recall every other instance of someone knocking perfectly clearly. Once, when a city worker let her know she needed to head to the bomb shelter as part of a drill. Another time, the other kids had splashed holy water on her and she'd simply stared blankly as they ran away screaming.
And there was the time Dumbledore had told her she was a witch, and then burnt her wardrobe.
A knock at her door never led to anything pleasant.
She reached the door just as the third knock came, this one loud and impatient. Holding her wand tightly, she turned the knob and pulled the door open.
"Merlin, were you napping or something?"
Standing in front of her, his unruly black hair looking like he'd just stepped off a broomstick and his emerald green eyes gleaming with mischief, was her best friend.
"Harry?! What are you doing here?" Her tone of voice showed she was not completely pleased that the boy had shown up. She glanced behind him, thankful that the hallways were empty.
"Kinda bad manners not to invite me in, Riddle." Harry said with a smirk.
She narrowed her eyes. "Actually, as a lady it would be unbecoming to let a degenerate like you anywhere near my chambers."
Harry just stared at her, unmoving as time passed by. Letting out a little noise of frustration, Emily grabbed the boy by the collar and pulled him into her room, slamming the door shut.
Harry sat on her bed, inspecting her room as if it was the Great Hall. Emily felt irked at her friend looking at her meager room in such a sarcastic manner.
"You can stop looking already, its four walls and a bed." She deadpanned when he was still taking in every nook and cranny of the bare room. Harry jumped at her voice and looked at her in a meek voice. "Sorry Em…it's your room, I wanted to take it all in."
Oh.
She looked into his eyes and saw no deception. Harry never could lie to her.
Her face softened. "What are you doing here, Harry? I've told you a million times-"
"I missed you. I couldn't go yet another summer without seeing you." Harry said.
Emily felt her face flush. Did he not realize how his words made her feel? How he made her feel?
She shook her head to dispel those thoughts, knowing they would only lead to pain.
"How did you even find me here?"
Harry grinned. "Our head of house is a softie, and pretty loose lipped after he's had a few."
Slughorn. Of course.
"That's what you went to talk to him about at the last party?" Emily glared accusingly at Harry, who simply gave her one of his roguish grins. She swatted his arm and he only smiled wider.
Emily sighed. "I never wanted you to see me here." Her eyes were downcast as she plopped down on the bed next to him.
Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she felt goosebumps all over her body.
"Em, you're really fucking stupid sometimes."
Her eyes narrowed into slits as she went to punch him hard on the shoulder. Slytherin's star seeker dodged, but she grabbed him by the collar, contemplating on ways she could hurt him. Harry pulled her with him and they rolled on the bed, beginning a wrestling match that Harry was always going to win.
Soon he had his weight on her with her arms pinned above her head. They were out of breath, and Harry was laughing as she squirmed to break free. "Say uncle!"
Hard headed as she was, Emily struggled a while longer until it was obvious she wasn't breaking free. She stopped moving and settled on glaring at Harry. A pout on her lips.
"I'll count that as a win." Harry ran a hand through his hair as he pulled back from her. Emily's body was tingling from their roughhousing. Harry's face turned a bit more serious as he gazed into her eyes.
"Em, please. Don't be embarrassed by where you're forced to spend the summer. I don't care, and it doesn't make me think you're any less brilliant. You're the second most brilliant witch I know, after all." Harry grinned once again.
Emily knew him well enough to know he was about to make a joke about Professor Garlick, their herbology teacher and every young man's crush.
But before she could think, her mouth blurted something else out. "And who's first? Abbot?"
She didn't mean for her words to sound so bitter. But it didn't make the silence any less awkward as Harry's face fell.
Harry had received a letter from his father over christmas break. He'd been glum and grumpy for days after reading it until Emily finally got him to spit it out. His father was working on a marriage contract between him and Josephina Abbot, a sixth year Gryffindor. It was still in preliminary talks, but there seemed to be no stopping it.
Emily remembered the heartbreak she'd felt. She'd hidden out in the Chamber of Secrets for hours until Harry came down to find her.
She'd been searching desperately since her first year. Trying to find a link between the name Riddle and Slytherin. She had to be his descendant, she had his gift. Then she'd found out Harry had it too, and she began to doubt herself. Maybe she was just the little Slytherin mudblood, looked down upon by her peers no matter what she achieved.
But with Harry, she'd felt a spark of something. Something hopeful. His father's letter was a crude reminded that she didn't belong in his world, that she'd have to forge her own path forward. As much as it pained her, Harry might not be by her side much longer. She knew he didn't want this either, but it was impossible for him to rebel against his father's wishes.
She looked over at Harry to see he was looking at her again, this time with a bit of nervousness.
Better apologize.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to bring that up." She said sadly.
But Harry didn't answer, instead his features hardened, a determined look on his face. "Emily, do you promise not to get mad at what I'm about to tell you."
She blinked a few times. "I'm already getting mad and you haven't even said anything. Now talk."
He shivered slightly. Sometimes she slipped into a commanding tone and it did things to him.
He started rubbing the back of his head and Emily groaned. She knew what that meant. "What did you do?"
Harry grinned again. "I might have solved both our problems. But…well I hope you don't want to kill me after, but I wasn't sure if you'd go along with it if I explained it first."
"What the hell are you talking about Harry?"
The boy looked around the room. "Where's the grimoire?"
She raised an eyebrow at this. She got off the bed and went to her desk, pulling out the tome and tossing it to the bed. She sat down with the book between them. "So you had ulterior motives when you gave me this?"
"See-"
There was an earth-shattering boom and the entire room shook. They both fell back in the bed as Emily's desk collapsed. Pieces of plaster fell from the ceiling as for a moment it looked like the entire room was going to cave in.
"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Harry yelled over the noise as the loud whine of an alarm began to reverberate through the room. His hands were gripping onto her sheets for dear life as the shaking refused to stop.
Emily was terrified. She'd been lucky enough to not get caught up in a bombing raid, but today her luck had run out. And her best friend was going to share her fate.
"BOMB!" she yelled, ears ringing loudly.
Harry remembered when she's told him about the muggle's weapons and how powerful they were, but a part of him had dismissed it. How terrifying could a muggle weapon really be?
Another explosion rocked the building. This one was closer. The bed collapsed under them as they became tangled. The floor felt unsteady and ready to snap at any moment, the eternal whirl of the alarm becoming more and more like a screech with every passing second.
Emily leapt onto shaky feet, struggling to keep her balance as she felt like she was standing on a wave. She had her wand in hand, she needed to get them out of there, they couldn't die here. This couldn't be it.
Harry had sunk deeper into the bed. Emily felt panic rise and she did her best to level her wand while the floor wobbled violently. Any moment now it would collapse and they'd fall three storeys. She needed to cast a featherweight charm to cushion their fall.
Harry leapt up from the bed, wand in one hand and grimoire in the other. He took two steps toward her and pressed the book onto her chest.
"POTTER MANOR!"
Emily felt a hook grab onto her navel and sweep her away. The two of them disappeared from her room, just moments before the walls caved in and the floor gave way.
The next moment, they were both lying on firm, solid ground. The white marble flooring was cold to the touch, but Emily wanted to kiss it as her body continued to tremble. They had been so close.
She would have died.
Harry was the first to try to get up. His feet shook and he had to use a wall to support himself. "I…don't think I want to go back to the muggle world." He gasped out.
After a minute, the two of them were up, leaning against the wall as their heartbeats slowly began to settle.
Between deep breaths, Emily finally began to take in her surroundings. They were in a rectangular room with a large fireplace behind them. Portraits lined the walls, long dead men and women with varying degrees of resemblance to Harry. At the other end there was an ornate door with a knob in the shape of a lion's head. She saw the knob turn, and the door opened.
Lord Henry Potter was not amused. First his son leaves the manor without telling him or his mother. Now the wards suddenly alert him of his return, with a guest. The floo hadn't been activated and the boy couldn't apparate, which left only one option.
Henry had gone to his study and searched desperately only for his fears to be confirmed, the Grimoire was gone.
He looked down at his son and his mudblood friend as they were breathing heavily. He had nothing against her kind, he even lobbied for their rights in the Wizengamot! Lord Malfoy had even called him a mudblood-lover at one point. But for his son to become entangled with a mudblood when he had a sacred line to protect…that was more than a bridge too far.
"What did you do?" He asked imperiously. Both children stiffened. Emily gulped. Harry had told her many things about his father, and she wouldn't put it past the man to kick her out onto the street immediately. The Potters lived in a large, rural estate, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to find her way to the nearest town before nightfall.
Harry stepped in front of her, holding his father's gaze. He knelt down to pick up the grimoire, and he held it up in front of him. "She's had this all summer, she's read through it dozens of times."
Henry's eyes widened in shock and anger, but also in something else. He looked back at Emily, but she saw that he now had a calculating gaze, as if he was assessing her worth.
"I will write to Lord Abbot immediately. You will present her to your mother at dinner." And without another word, Lord Potter swept out of the room.
Harry released the breath he'd been holding.
"What just happened?" Emily asked the boy who now looked almost completely relaxed. As he looked at her, some of his nerves returned. There was still a bit more to do. "Err… how about we go to my room and I'll explain."
A few minutes later they sat on Harry's king sized bed. His walls were littered with Quidditch posters. On his bed stand, there was a picture of the two of them. Emily almost gasped when she saw it. Picking it up, she saw it was from this past year, at Slughorn's first Slug Club Party. Harry had his hand around her waist as they both smiled at the camera. Their picture selves kept stealing furtive glances at each other.
"You had this framed?" She asked wide-eyed.
Harry nodded. "I uhh… need to finish my explanation from earlier."
Emily looked at him. "What is it about this grimoire that you didn't tell me? Why did it make your father back off?"
Harry licked his lips. "Before I say anything…I didn't mean to deceive you in any way Em. I just…well you know how I am. I come up with a plan and I just sort of jump into it without thinking."
She didn't respond, instead she just continued to stare at him with that expectant look. Harry sighed. "What you didn't know is that by giving you my grimoire and you reading it, we've sort of become engaged."
"Engaged!?" She reeled back in shock. She didn't miss the slight hurt in Harry's eyes at her reaction.
"You don't have to act like I just told you you've got dragonpox." He grumbled.
Emily slapped his arm again. "That's not it Potter. Stop being so obtuse. I've spent the better part of a year dreaming of being with you-" His eyes lit up with equal parts happiness and shock. "- but how exactly does giving me a book make us engaged."
Harry was giddy at her words, and he couldn't contain the impulse to grab her hand. Emily blushed as their fingers intertwined.
"Family grimoires are really private things, Em. I know you already knew that, but its to a greater extent that you might think. No one outside the family can read it. Giving a grimoire to someone means, in the eyes of magic, that that person will be joining your family, it becomes a binding engagement the moment the other person reads it. Usually, a wizard gives his grimoire to the witch his parents are planning to bethrote him to when there are real emotions between them, its the ultimate sign of love."
Harry would have continued, but Emily's soft lips were on his and all he could do was wrap his arms around her and fall back into his bed. Her hands were buried in his dark hair while his squeezed her lithe body tight against his own, as if he was afraid she would disappear if he let go.
They spent what could have been an eternity in each other's embrace, until they finally broke apart.
They were smiling ear to ear as they looked at each other. "That daredevil streak will catch up to you one of these days, Potter…" Emily pecked him on the lips once more. "But not today."
They kissed again and the world around them faded into nothing. They'd longed for this for so long, and yet when they actually did it, it felt even better than they'd imagined. It was like they were meant for each other. Since that first day on the train. The sorting, becoming the two friendless outcasts of Slytherin, with only each other for company. Exploring the castle late at night, finding out about the Chamber and being parselmouths. Discovering their wands shared a core. Harry taking her on a broom ride late at night.
They surfaced for air once more and Emily knew she would never give this up. She would fight tooth and nail to keep him, to keep what they had between them. Still, another thought nagged at the back of her head.
"Harry, I understand the fact that you circumvented your father, but why did he seem to accept what you did so quickly?"
Harry smiled gently. "The grimoires have a few failsafes, Em. Otherwise there'd have been dozens of rebellious pureblood heirs giving their grimoires out to pretty witches they liked. The grimoire can only be read by someone from the sacred twenty-eight."
Emily blinked. The sacred-twenty eight, the founding families of the wizarding world. She'd read the names once in a book, during her own research to prove her ancestry. They were the oldest, most powerful families in Britain.
"That means-"
"Yes." Harry grinned, cupping her face and leaning in for another loving kiss.
They basked in each other for an eternal moment, until the door to Harry's room opened.
A young, energetic looking House Elf stood at the doorway. "Master has ordered Chalky to show Miss to her room. If Miss would follow Chalky."
Harry and Emily stood up, but Chalky held a hand out towards Harry. "Young Master cannot come, Young Master will see Miss at dinner."
"What?" Harry grumbled.
Emily giggled, "I guess your father is as sore a loser as you are."
Harry pouted, managing to steal another kiss from Emily before Chalky dragged the girl out of the room. "I'll see you at dinner."
Dinner was only an hour later, but it was the longest hour of Harry's life.
After finally having what he'd most desired over the past four years of his life, having to wait to be with Emily when he had her so close was torture.
And so he was the first member of the family at the bottom of the stairwell, waiting impatiently for everyone else to arrive for dinner.
Pureblood dinners were always formal affairs. You needed to dress your best, even though you were just eating a meal with the same people you saw every single day. It was a forced tradition that many found cumbersome, and so many families simply stopped having dinner everyday, replacing it with supper, which was completely different from dinner, somehow.
The Potters were not one of those families. At least when Harry was at home, anyway. Every single night, he had to put on some dress robes, brush up on his table manners and get ready for dinner.
He was wearing a set of bottle green dress robes tonight,
"Oh, my baby boy is dressed to impress!" Madeline Potter beamed proudly as she made her way down the stairs in a crimson dress.
Harry smiled weakly as his mother fussed over him. Usually he wore the same set of plain black dress robes over and over until his father said something, but tonight, he definitely wanted to leave a good impression.
"This girl has you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she." Henry said as he walked down, cane in hand as he wore his black dress robe embroidered in Potter regalia.
"I can't wait to meet her! She must be exceptional to have stolen my Harry's heart!" His mother hugged him tightly and Harry's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
He heard a sound from the stairwell and his eyes immediately shot upwards.
She was wearing a flowing, silver robe with green accents. Her hair was done up in a messy bun, with a few strands of raven hair falling down her face. She wore a hint of makeup, and she was the most stunning thing Harry had ever seen in his life.
"Oh my." His mother said from beside him, but Harry barely heard her. He was staring at her as Emily took each step down the stairs, and he held his hand out to her when she reached the landing.
"You look incredible, dear!" Madeline said as she gave Emily a quick hug.
"Thank you, Lady Potter." Emily curtsied. Henry for his part looked a bit less disapproving as he turned towards the dining room, his wife following behind him.
Harry was still gaping at her, at a complete loss for words.
"If you dare make a single joke-"
"You're breathtaking." Harry cut her off. Emily couldn't control the blush that rose up on her face. Harry gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and they walked together hand in hand to join the Potters for dinner.
Later that night, Harry was staring up at the ceiling of his room, unable to sleep.
There was no way he could sleep, not when he kept daydreaming about when they were at Hogwarts, away from his father's rules of proper conduct. They had always been together, left alone by peers that barely tolerated their presence. Now, thst isolation opened up a lot of possibilities that young Harry couldn't help but fantasize about.
He heard a creak as his door opened and he raised his head, though he already knew who it was.
Emily was lightly closing his door. She was barefoot, wearing a silk nightdress that reached her knees. It had surprised Harry, how quickly his mother had been able to purchase an emergency wardrobe for her, with the dark cloud of a shopping trip for a more permanent one hanging over their heads.
"Em, you shouldn't be here." Harry whispered. "My dad will go ballistic."
"Ah, so now you care about what your father might do?" He raised one thick eyebrow as Harry couldn't help but smile. He scooted over on the bed as she slid in beside him.
"Don't get any ideas, Potter. I just need to discuss how we'll weasel our way out of that debutante ball."
They faced each other on the bed, and Harry couldn't help it, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him. Their foreheads touched, and they shared a quick peck before they pulled their heads back ever so slightly.
"There's no escaping that one, I'm afraid." Harry laughed at the face she made. "Look on the bright side, all those prissy girls like Black and Rosier are going to have a conniption once they see you there."
Emily sighed. "That will have to do." She leaned forward, stealing a kiss of her own from his lips.
They lay there, staring into each other's eyes in blissful silence.
"I can't stay too long, I have that inheritance test tomorrow." Emily stroked the side of his face as she spoke.
"I hope you'll still make time for me once you turn out to be Lady Merlin." Harry joked.
Emily raised her nose up haughtily. "You'll have to prove your worth to me, lowly Potter."
Harry chuckled as he pulled her in for another, longer kiss.
She needed to go back to her room, they had an early day tomorrow. But perhaps they could spend a few more minutes together.
Madeline saw her husband standing in front of their son's door, staring into the room with an indecipherable look on his face.
"Henry?" She asked as she approached. Her husband nodded towards the room. Madeline peeked in.
Her son and his fiancee were fast asleep. Harry had his arms wrapped around her waist, his head pressed against her back as their dark hair seemed to have combined into a single pool of inky blackness.
"I should punish them for this." Her husband said in a low murmur.
Madeline shook her head. "You won't. Remember when we were courting?"
"That was different! Everything was done properly."
She raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall someone sneaking into the guest room when I was staying here. And we did a lot more than cuddling."
Her husband's face turned scarlet at the memory. Henry sighed, looking at the two children once more before he closed the door. "They can sleep for a while longer. Perhaps…we should return to our quarters?"
Madeline smiled. "Lead the way, dear husband."