Chapter 10

Learning About You and I

Harry had been making plans for weeks. Though he made it sound simple to Emily, Harry was very aware that the moment they made their move to leave permanently, Grindlewald would close in. A perk of the man's talent in Divination. So long as they stayed close to the man, the dark wizard was willing to let them mull his offer over. Rather, he was willing to let Emily ruminate on his words. Harry was merely an obstacle. Once Harry and Emily's relationship got more physical, Harry honestly expected the man to show up at their door immediately. When no such visit occurred, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but his anxiety only grew.

Grindlewald was banking on Emily coming to him, rather than retrieving her himself. The morning after their moment in the bathroom Harry assumed that Emily and his relationship had solidified well enough that Grindlewald would know the future of Emily coming to him was now unlikely. So, if nothing had been done, that meant that Grindlewald had a back up plan. That, or there was a moment in their futures that Grindlewald was waiting for that Harry could not foresee.

After all, things were already beginning to change from the timeline he knew. Who knew what could happen at this had been raiding and pilfering the Room of Requirement for a while now. At one point, he dared to test the waters when deciding to take Emily with him. He met no resistance from the dark wizard, meaning the man was still not worried about Emily being beyond his grasp, despite the woman being right under the nose of the one person Grindlewald feared. Harry was more than tempted to just never return, but Britain still wasn't safe for Emily. Of course, they could simply go elsewhere, but Gellert Grindlewald arms were long and few places were beyond his reach.

Harry's desire to head to Russia. Grigori Rasputin would shelter the two of them easily enough. Though Rasputin had long since lost his political power in muggle Russia, considering he was believed long since dead, the man still had a powerful following in the magical community. Of course, the man was no saint, he practiced some of the most disturbing dark magic Harry had ever heard of, but the man didn't harm other beings very often. Not unless he was attacked first.

The reason behind this was simple. Rasputin was a royal nationalist of the highest order. His maxim was could literally be boiled down to, "For the Motherland." It didn't matter if you were a squib, muggle, house-elf, or goblin. If any sentient being born in Russia were to stand before him and declare those words, Rasputin would welcome them with open arms. Of course, that made things hard for foreigners, but Harry had knowledge the wizard would like to have.

As of this current point in time, every excursion of Grindlewald's forces into Russia had been brutally rebuffed. It was only a matter of time before Gellert entered the fray himself. Harry knew the exact date and time in which Grindlewald launched the offensive that ended Rasputin's life and the lives of many of his followers. Rasputin didn't have time to bother with Grindlewald, in truth. The man was combating the rule of Stalin with great effort. But Stalin held the power and the enough of people followed his ideology that the rest could be beaten into submission. Even though he was merely a muggle, he was not someone Rasputin could simply apparate to and kill.

So, when a large assault from a foreign nation pierced through the border and took Rasputin's head, it crumbled the last major resistance to Stalin's rule. It could be claimed as a major turning point of the modern day Soviet Union. Harry would barter information to gain asylum from the man, and if he could keep alive a thorn in Grindlewald's side, then he would be happy to do so. Harry had no grand ambitions, he knew that the more of the timeline he changed, the less use he'd get out of his future knowledge. But if his actions lead to the Cold War never happening, it wasn't something he'd lose sleep over.

But everything hinged on the plans of Grindlewald. When would he make his move? Harry had to plan for a way around the man entirely. While Harry's magical ability was certainly greater than average, he didn't have the raw power for intercontinental apparation. Making several trips was a viable option, but that would leave them open to a trap. The last thing Harry wanted was to apparate into a group of Vollstrecker. A portkey there would be ideal, but Harry lacked the fundamental knowledge to make one to a location he'd never been to. Emily could probably do it, with her advanced knowledge of Arithmancy, but Harry really didn't want to wind up inside of a wall due to her lack of experience. All other means of travel were either too slow, too open, or both.

Therefore, Harry decided that their best course of action was to teach Emily to apparate. She had loads of raw magic, and while a one way trip to Russia would probably put her out of commission for a day, he knew she could manage it. Their progress, however, was slow. Emily was not suited to obscure magical arts. Couple that with her ire of personal failure, and her mood soured quickly.

"Focus Emily. Stop trying to bludgeon it to death. You need finesse."

"I'll bludgeon you to death if you don't stop talking, Harry." With a huff, Emily once again took a deep breath and turned. With an exceptionally loud crack, she vanished and reappeared. Unfortunately, instead of appearing in her marked target, she was six feet to the left.

"Fuck!" Her frustration was mounting, but Harry really was at a loss here. Emily was amazing with a wand. Anything requiring an incantation, wand waving and focus was easy for her. She was also very skilled in using her magic intuitively. If she had a problem or desire, she could simply will her magic to find a solution. Her history of childhood bullying was proof of that. But when she needed to apparate, a skill that could honestly be done without a wand, she was struggling.

There was no doubt that she could move. She did that on her first try, amazingly enough. Though the accompanying sound had been something akin to a bolt of lightning's thundercrack. The crack was not only the sharp sound of matter displacement, it was also the sound of magical discharge. Emily not only over shot her target, which was only a mere five meters from her, but she'd over shot it by three times the amount of distance that it was. While shrinking down her margin of error from the beginning, she found herself at a bottleneck currently.

Preaching destination, determination and deliberation wasn't going to do a damn thing either. Though the issue certainly lied with the final stage. Deliberation required Emily to enter the void. The void being almost like a corridor that allowed the witch or wizard to move from one place to another with apparition. But for some odd reason, Emily would flood the void with her magic, which, by default, altered her destination.

Harry sighed and, with a jerk, pulled himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against. This wasn't working. While Harry knew that the girl would eventually be able to get the magic down at some point, Harry had no intention of waiting. Not on something as important as this. Apparition was something that could very well save Emily's life one day. It certainly could have aided them that first day in the forest. And while Harry was now well versed in taking the girl side-along, there could be a time where he didn't have that option.

"Emily, come here." Harry spoke gently, trying not to agitate the young woman further. She showed him a slight sneer, but she did move towards him, and the two met in the middle of the yard outside the home they were staying at. The venue wasn't the best, but with an appropriate number of privacy charms it had sufficed.

"Your issue is with your turning," Harry blatantly lied. "Thankfully, there's a trick to that." He took a step towards her until the two were almost flush against one another. Harry had several inches on the girl, and she had to almost crane her neck to keep her eyes on him.

"And that would be?" Her tone had already calmed a noticeable degree.

Harry gave her a smirk. "We're going to dance." Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, took her hand in his and raised it out and level with their heads. "Have you ever waltzed before, Emily?" Harry asked softly. He couldn't lie that he did not enjoy the flushed look on the girl's face. She nodded her head, but Harry knew that the girl's experience of dancing with a partner was limited at best, so he planned to take charge in the beginning.

"Good, follow my lead." He kept his voice light still, but allowed it to dip an octave. Waving his wand, Harry conjured a simple drumbeat. The dance itself was a waltz, but it was extremely basic. Two simple movements, followed by a turn and then repeat. Emily fell into the rhythm quickly enough. Once that was done, Harry excused himself for a moment to enter the house.

Their appropriated home didn't have much in the form of amenities, but there was a phonograph. Harry flicked through a handful of records, knowing he'd find what he was looking for eventually. The previous owners were Frenchman, after all. Soon enough he came to the selection he was looking for. Strauss and Tchaikovsky were immediately discarded. Harry wanted something not quite so extravagant. After all, he didn't want to get Emily too entranced in the music, he wanted her to learn to apparate. Finally, he selected Shostakovich's 'The Second Waltz'. Waving his wand, he slowed the music to a tempo that would better facilitate his needs. Making sure that the waltz would repeat as necessary, Harry made his way back to Emily.

Molly Weasley was the the source of all of Harry's knowledge when it came to this sort of thing. While Harry had learned to waltz in his fourth year for the Triwizard Tournament, he knew nothing of the music. Once Harry had begun dating his Hogwarts sweetheart, Ginny Weasley, his knowledge needed expanding. Ginny loved dancing, and while Harry could accommodate that desire well enough, he knew nothing about the associated music. Molly Weasley was only too happy to fill in those gaps for Harry. Having been a, non-official, part of the Weasley family for several years, when Harry approached Mrs. Weasley for help, she taught Harry diligently. Harry learned the names of several composers, learned more complex dance steps, and also learned that Ginny's love of dancing most likely came from having watched her parents dancing often in the sitting room together as a child.

When Harry emerged back out to the yard, he was disappointed to see Emily facing her apparition target again. Clearly, his distraction had not been effective enough. Silently, but swiftly, Harry made his way behind Emily, and the moment she turned, Harry stepped into her space, wrapping an arm around her waste and grasping her hand in a perfect motion to begin their dance anew. The crack of thunder resonated loudly, drowning out the music briefly. But Harry had been prepared as he hijacked her spell.

In a normal situation, interrupting someone's apparition in this manner would result in two gruesomely mangled corpses. Emily's apparition would have proceeded, but with the loss of concentration and the addition of a passenger would have ensured that the two would splinch. And not something simple as a hair or fingernail. Half a torso or a head would not be uncommon. But when Harry gripped onto Emily, he took over. He overrode her destination and determination with his own apparition, and the two reappeared at the target. Emily grew rigid in surprise at Harry' actions. While she knew how incredibly dangerous his actions had been, she made no move to chastise him.

"I see you forgot about me rather quickly." Harry smirked as he spoke to Emily. Though Harry had Emily grasped firmly the moment they reappeared and began to move in accordance to the music, Emily had not been prepared. She only stumbled for a moment, however, before falling back into step.

Emily returned his grin. "I mean, do you really think dancing is going to teach me to apparate? I'm not that foolish, Harry. You saw me getting frustrated, and you knew I needed to unwind. And now, here we are." Emily gently caressed his back from over his shoulder. "Not a bad idea, I'll admit. While dancing has never held any appeal to me before, I admit, I am unusually eager to engage with you here."

With a quirk of his eyebrows, Harry gave a short laugh. Caressing her lower back in a similar manner to what she was doing, he pulled her even closer to him. The dance grew a tad sloppier as a result, but was still within Harry's expectations. "When I was your age, I also didn't see much appeal in dance. But as I got older, I have found it to be a very entertaining activity."

"Oh? Why is that?"

Allowing his feet to follow the path that they knew so well, Harry lowered his mouth to her forehead and kissed it softly. "Dancing is a form of artistic expression. And like all forms of artistic expression, when done with a partner, it can be extremely intimate. I can show the entire world just what you mean to me, all through a few simple steps. No words necessary, and anyone who sees you and I knows exactly what we are to each other."

Emily listened to his words and seemed to ruminate on them for a moment. Lightly turning her face to bury her nose into his neck, Harry tensed. It wasn't a movement made of fear, but a preparation for pain. Harry had grown to expect the feeling of her teeth piercing into his skin when she had her mouth so close to his shoulder or neck.

Emily chuckled, knowing exactly was his flinch was for. "Expecting something, Harry?"

"Just another one of your little gifts."

Emily smiled into his neck. "Well, its not as though I'm not tempted. But no, I'm trying to embrace the moment."

Harry sighed, allowing himself to do the same thing Emily was attempting. Closing his eyes, he lowered his nose to her hair to inhale her scent. In this time period, there wasn't much in the way of hair care beyond simple shampoo and soaps. The magical community had the advantage over muggles in that they could charm certain fragrances in their hair. Harry doubted Emily did much in the way of such charms, as he couldn't detect much odor at all. Frowning with pursed lips, Harry discarded his idea. After all, there was little reason for him to lose himself in this moment. He did have an actual plan he was trying to enact. If things went well, he could drown himself in her later. She'd certainly be in the mood for it.

Continuing the dance, Harry allowed his hands to drift further from their appropriate location. He began touching her in ways he knew she'd enjoy. Light finger strokes up and down her spine. He felt a brief moment of wetness on his neck, and was aware that his actions were having an effect. She was wetting her lips and her breathing became a tad heavier. When her hand began to tighten in his grip, he gently guided their outstretched hands back to their bodies. He placed her hand at his hip, while putting his own in the same spot on her body. Firmly holding them in place so their dance would not be interrupted, he stopped his other hand's ministrations.

Gently, Harry used his now free hand to caress her cheek. She pulled back to look at him, and Harry could only guess if she was more confused by his actions or excited. In the back of his mind, he briefly questioned the morality of manipulating a teenager through her raging libido before shrugging it off. It would be effective, and that was all that mattered. He didn't particularly mind if he had to indulge her after riling her up. Grasping her chin, he guided his head down to kiss her lips. Once again, she stumbled, and Harry could tell just how distracting his actions were. Regardless, Emily was a very graceful girl and she quickly steadied herself all while responding to his lips.

When Harry felt her nails digging into his hips sharply, he felt he'd reached the point they needed to be at. Breaking away for a scant second, he whispered, "You lead," before returning his lips to her

Though Harry expected an awkward moment as control of their pathing and rhythm shifted, Emily surprised him by taking over seamlessly. It should not have been shocking to him, however. Plays for dominance occurred to them often enough in their intimate moments. Other than their steps becoming marginally smaller, the only thing that changed was the intensity of their kiss. Harry had the ability to prolong intimacy. He could start slow and allow the embers to simmer the moment.

Emily was different. While she had the ability to do such things, she had no desire to do them as Harry did. Any attempts at prolonging intimacy with a partner always involved pain and torment. For Emily, a slow burn was literally just that, slowly burning someone. But that was not possible to do while dancing. So when Emily gained control, instead of slowly bringing their passion to a boil, she ignited. The kiss was no longer gentle, it was hard. It was rousing in ways that one should not display in public, and most certainly not in a classical waltz setting. Harry found his hips pressed forwards to her body and was thankful she'd had the foresight to shorten their steps. Otherwise, they'd have tripped over each other.

Puller her lips from him with an audible hiss, she looked into his eyes. She had the expression he was looking for. That heady, drunk look, licking her lips and drawing in a deep breath. Bypassing her face altogether, Harry lowered his lips to her ears and gently kissed them. Counting carefully and keeping track of their movements Harry waited for the perfect moment. Right before their turn, he spoke.

"Take me to bed, Emily."

With a sharp crack, the two were in the bedroom. Harry didn't even get a moment to congratulate her on her successful apparition before she shoved him down onto the bed.

'Oh well, I'll do it later.'

Emily languidly stretched her body, only covered by a sweat soaked sheet. Their love making had been intense today. Harry had not been as aggressive today allowing her to dominate most of their horizontal activity. Likely a reward for her success. He was a clever bastard. She'd never imagine that her first perfect apparition would be fueled by sexual passion.

Harry had gone to make dinner as the the afternoon had been consumed by Emily's excitement. Now well into the evening, Emily found herself sated and relaxed in bed. Though alone, she could hear Harry's movements and the air in the bedroom was fill with a mixture of their exertions.

"This must be bliss." She murmured to herself. Casting her mind to her past, she tried to recall any moment that would even remotely measure up to the serenity and happiness she felt at this moment. Even the darkest thrills she'd experienced only paled in comparison. Harry had recently asked her about her happiness and she'd answered him honestly. But now, she found herself questioning herself.

'Have... I ever been happy before I met Harry?'

It didn't take long for an answer to come to her. And it was not pleasant.

"This... is the only time in my entire life. I've really never been happy before." Her whispered voice crept an octave higher. One could say that each person's life amounted to the pursuit of happiness and contentment. But, if so, what did that say of her life so far? Every single moment of her past, everything had amounted to nothing. The cheap feeling of power when she bullied others or the weak arousal of causing pain to random people. None of those had been fulfilling. Her life until now had always been an empty void.

'Why? Why have I never searched for something like this before?"

Once again, the answer was painfully obvious. Not only had she never been aware that such a happiness had existed, she also lacked opportunity. She'd never been loved before. As a small child, it had been something she'd craved. Even as she'd grown into her teenage years, it was something she had desired. But no one had ever cared to love a monster like her. She was too disturbed for anyone to ever embrace.

Pulling her body up into a sitting position, Emily wrapped her arms around her legs as a familiar burning sensation formed behind her eyes. Emily loathed it when her emotions became volatile enough to make her cry. It made her a target. The only time anyone dared to try and hurt her was when she cried. She always made them pay for it, but it had taught her early on that tears were signs of weakness. It was the tears of others that told her she was strong. And she was even stronger when she made them cry.

But here and now, she was alone. She did not fight them. She let them flow, but she then gave into the negativity they represented.

"All I ever needed was someone to care. But I was avoided like the plague. I was different, and I was weird. A freak.' A choked sob escaped her lips. A heavy weight settled into her chest. Everything she'd ever done, every horrible thing that Harry hated about her all stemmed from her attempts at chasing fleeting pleasures. Pleasures that were, now in hindsight, so obviously not worthy of her time.

"I ruined myself.' Her mind began to spiral. 'I may have been born a monster, but then I chose to embrace it.' At this moment, the only fear Emily held resurfaced in her mind. 'If I were better, Harry would never leave me. But he hates what I am just as much as everyone else. One day, he'll finally see what everyone else does. And he'll do what they all do...'

All at once, Emily made to repress and squash her emotions. She immediately regretted allowing herself to feel. This was not a safe space for her, such a space did not exist. Not for Emily Riddle. But her attempts were futile. She had gazed into the fractured abyss of her own soul, and it was swallowing her entirely.

'What will I do when he's gone? I can't go back to being who I used to be. Not after knowing what other kind of life I can have.' Emily was so immersed in herself she didn't even noticed her magic responding to her emotions. Everything in the room, from the furniture to her clothes on the floor was slowly unraveling into oblivion. As though it were slowly disintegrating at some microscopic level. The overwhelming emptiness that was devouring her was now doing the same to her immediate surroundings. Even the scent of Harry in the room had dissipated to the point were she could no longer notice it.

'I'd rather die. I couldn't handle that.' At this last thought, she remembered her horcrux. 'Of course. Every move I make is another mistake. Another step in prolonging this pain.'

There was no longer anything else in the room, save her wand, ring, and Harry's trunk. For some strange reason, her magic had not devoured those things, though in the trunk's case, Emily would wager it had some powerful protective enchantments. Her magic had expanded and began eating at the walls, floor and ceiling. Emily herself was floating in place as though the bed were still present underneath her. Unbeknownst to her, a loud clamor could be heard from the other side of the home, followed by rushed footsteps towards her.

"Emily." Harry's voice snapped her out of her trance and she slowly opened her eyes. His bright green eyes were only inches from her own.

"Harry." She looked at him, waiting for him to... do something. Do anything. She didn't even know what it was she needed. But she did know that she needed him to know. And she needed him to act on it.

Harry presented her with a soft smile. "Got lost in your own head, I take it?"

Emily nodded. "I did."

"Let me guess... Not a place you want to be anymore, right?"

Emily nodded again, but asked, "How did you know?"

Harry waved his wand, conjuring up two chairs for them. Harry sat in his as Emily gently lowered herself in the other. "I've been there. Made mistakes that other people had to pay for. A lot of people died so I could be here now, you know. Most of them didn't even do it for me. They did it to fight back, for a brighter future. But when I was younger, even younger than you, I couldn't see that. All I could see were the bodies. And there were so many. I stayed locked in my own head for months.

Harry sighed, "My godfather and Professor Dumbledore helped me through it. Explained to me that people make choices, good or bad, and the only way they can ever ease their own pain is to move forward. Because sometimes, even the best choice can be the most painful one. My godfather made terrible choices, wound up in Azkaban for a long stretch. Dumbledore shared some of the worst choices he'd ever made with me as well. Its one of the reasons he and I have such a level of trust between us today."

Harry gave a small chuckle. "No matter the choices you've made Emily, they are in the past now. You can only focus on the decisions that have yet to pass. Don't look back any longer, Emily. There's nothing left for you there anymore."

Emily nodded her head slowly. "But what if I'm not strong enough to make better choices?"

Harry laughed softly. "Not strong enough? You? Listen to yourself Emily. You're the strongest woman I know."

"We both know that's not the strength I'm talking about."

Harry shrugged. "Is it not? Every choice we make is driven by our self interest, Emily. We are all puppets to our vices, desires and well-being. You are just as susceptible to that logic as I am. Even so, I don't believe, for even a moment, that you'll make the same decisions that you used to."

Emily smiled. "I appreciate your faith, but I can't help but wonder if it might be misplaced."

Harry shook his head with a short sigh. "You still don't see it, do you?"

"What is it that I am missing? What is so obvious to you that I can't seem to grasp?" Emily desperately wanted to know.

"Emily, you're different. You're no longer just looking out for you anymore. You look out for me. Its no longer just about your self interest. Now you approach things in regards to our self interests. And you know that I do the same. Now, does that mean you'll only make the best choices? No, of course you won't. But unselfish choices are always better than selfish ones."

"So you're newfound faith in me is that, huh? I'm better because I care for you?"

Harry stood, and began conjuring replacement furnishings for the battered room as well as repairing its structure. "One of the best thing about human beings, Emily, whether magical or muggle, is our propensity to grow. And you'll never find a better source of growth than love. Loving someone is the most powerful catalyst for people like you and me."

Emily stood as well, watching him work. As she settled onto the newly conjured bed, she frowned. It was not as comfortable as the first. But seeing as she'd been the one to wreck it, she wouldn't complain.

Harry was inspecting his spell work, making sure that his conjurations would last for a fairly long time. Emily's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"And what kind of people are we, Harry?"

Harry, who had just squatted down to check on the walls and floors, stood and turned his neck to look at her. He had to fight the urge to grin as he saw her sitting back on the bed. Turning fully, he went to his trunk and pulled out the simple white sundress she'd worn the day they left Hogwarts. Emily had tossed it haphazardly in the corner one day and hadn't paid it any mind. Harry, having been raised without clothing of his own, deemed it important enough to keep. Though most of her garments remained in her room, she certainly lost everything she kept in here.

"You and I, Emily, we're cut from the same cloth." Harry approached her and she held her arms up, allowing him to dress her by lowering the dress onto her body from above. He surprised her with his next action, spreading her legs and pushing her onto the bed. Working his way between her legs, he settle himself on his knees. With one hand under her knee, he lifted her left leg and began kissing her calf slowly. His other hand gently worked the white dress down her body to cover her rear. He did the same with her right leg, before leaning over her body fully and gazing into her eyes.

"Both of us grew up in cold homes. Never knowing kindness or happiness. Despised because we weren't normal. Freaks." Lowering his head, he kissed her once on each cheek. "It stunted us. Made us weak in ways we never expected." Moving his head upward, he kissed her forehead. "But now, we're free. Those cold shackles that bound us are no longer there. You shattered mine, and I melted yours." Moving his face to her lips, Harry kissed her softly. "You'll never be cold like that again, Emily. I'll never allow you to be cold ever again."

Emily kissed him deeply. In her heart she knew he was right. Harry filled her with a warmth she had never known. But a deep ache formed in her gut. She'd never expected that Harry had faced such a similar beginning that she had. But he had. Harry knew just how cold it could be, growing up unloved. Summoning her wand to her, Emily conjured a heavy blanket to cover the two of them as Harry continued to kiss her slowly and deeply.

Breaking away, Emily whispered to him, "And you'll never be alone again, Harry." Wrapping her arms around him, Emily buried herself in his chest. "You're life has been cold because those you loved died for you. I will never leave you like that. No one will ever take me from you."

The two stayed in the conjured bed for the better part of an hour, simply embracing before Emily's stomach growled loudly enough to spur Harry to move.

"Well, hopefully my stasis charm on dinner lasted until now. I'll bring you food soon." Harry left Emily in bed for a second time that day, but this time, Emily was no longer plagued by dark thoughts.

Moving to lay down on her back, Emily gazed at the ceiling. "No more looking back. Harry's right, there's nothing there for me anymore." Feeling restless, Emily got up and joined Harry in the kitchen. As she passed the bathroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Pursing her lips in concentration, she took in her reflection.

"I suppose this dress isn't that bad."

A/N: Back again.