A/N: Well, here is the last chapter of this story. Thanks very much to all my reviewers. It is so
very much appreciated! Hope you'll leave a comment after this one, as well. Many thanks to
Lissanne for such awesome beta-ing. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter books. It's all
hers (and those other lucky buggers who own bits and pieces); I'm just playing in her sandbox. If there are
characters you don't recognize from canon, however, they are mine. A section of this chapter is modeled after a
similar section in Frank McCourt's memoir Angela's Ashes, and is property of him. Thank you.
XX
November 15th
You know how they say that time heals all wounds? Well, in the weeks after dropping that heavy bombshell on her
parents, Emerson came to realize two things about that saying. The first was that it was essentially true; time does
more or less heal all wounds.
And the second realization was that the effectiveness of the healing depended on how well the wound had been cared for in the first place.
When she had been keeping the secret from her folks, healing had been ongoing nevertheless. But like a broken bone that had been improperly set, she hadn't been healing right. Guilt had still weighed heavily on her, affecting her in other little ways that seemed completely separate from her secret.
But since completing the difficult task of coming clean, she felt refreshed. She felt as if a festering sore inside her had been lanced and drained, bringing immediate and immaculate relief to her burdened soul. There hadn't had a chance to have another discussion while she was home, but the weekend after her visit, her parents and Brandon had come to Harvard and everything was laid bare. Brandon told her that he'd already talked to each of her parents separately, which meant that much of the bitterness and hurt on that angle had been taken care of. But it had been extremely cathartic for all four of them to sit down and talk about it as adults, and that was what they'd done.
At the end of the weekend, she had watched them go with a much lighter heart and spirit, her love for them filling her up to the brim and overflowing.
That had been a few weeks ago and in many ways, life couldn't be better for Emerson. Her best friend and brand-new godson were both doing very well and all her family back home were healthy and happy. Her schoolwork was going along swimmingly and all of her professors were very pleased with her. Her friendships, especially with Kady McDermott and Krishna Richards, were blossoming beautifully. And her relationship with her boyfriend had never been better.
Emerson had always known that Brandon had something special when it came to his work and she was so excited to know that his superiors recognized that as well. Her screams of happiness when he'd told her the news of his phenomenal promotion had frightened Axel into hiding under the bed and caused Kady to rush over and ask if she was all right. She was so proud of him! Even now, a few weeks after finding out, she still got so excited when she thought about it. He'd started the preliminary rounds of training and from what he'd written, everything was going well.
Resting her head on her arm, she sighed happily. It was Friday and another of his visits had finally rolled around. God, she couldn't wait to see him! The last time they'd been together was a full month ago, and as far as she was concerned, seven-thirty couldn't arrive fast enough. She missed him.
"Emerson! Incoming!"
Em's head whipped around at the urgent summons and she jumped up. She was at her job at Morningside Animal Hospital and from the sounds of it, another injured animal needed attending to. It had been busier than usual that day and the vast majority of the wounded could all point to the same source of their misery. Winter had come to Boston much earlier than usual with a sudden cold snap the night before that had had everyone scurrying to bundle up. Reports of frozen tree limbs breaking apart and smashing into houses were all over the news, and more than a few car wrecks had been caused by icy roads.
That same unapologetic abruptness of the weather was what had kept Em and the entire staff at Morningside on their toes, scrambling to deal with a spate of animal injuries. In fact, she'd only just sat down to rest after a particularly trying case. And now it appeared that the time for resting was over once again.
"What is it now?" she asked breathlessly, hurrying into the adjoining examination room.
"Looks like a hip subluxation," Matt Adler said, glancing up at her. "Among other things. We'll have to do an x-ray to be sure."
Moving over to the other side of the long, steel table, Emerson saw that the patient was a large yellow Labrador retriever. The dog was lying on its side with an anesthesia mask over its muzzle, its left hind leg twisted at an unnatural angle and appearing to be shorter than the other one. There was a large gash on its left cheek, as well as numerous small cuts on the pads of all four paws. Clearly, the animal was seriously injured, though having been sedated, it was not in any pain at the moment.
"Do you know what happened?" Em asked gravely as she slipped on a pair of latex gloves. Grabbing a bottle of antiseptic solution and a gauze pad, she began to gently clean the nearest paw.
"The ice, what else?" Matt said shortly, leaning over to examine the gash.
Em frowned at his briskness, then mentally shrugged. If that was the way he wanted to act, then so be it. But it displayed his childishness in startling detail, if he was still sulking over her rejecting his advances so many months ago. She had no regrets about what she'd done and she would do it all over again, though she would rather the opportunity not present itself; she really didn't fancy putting up with any more of his misguidance.
At least his sulkiness came and went and the longer they were partnered at the hospital, the less he seemed to remember to act like a spoiled brat who hadn't gotten his way. They worked fairly well together and once a case had their focus, much of the awkwardness was forgotten.
"That's a pretty nasty gash," he said now, removing the anesthesia mask to examine the wound more closely. "Apparently, Teddy here was so excited by his master's coming home that he ran down the front steps to meet him. With all the ice, he slipped, scratching the hell out of his paws."
Em moved on to wiping the congealed blood on Teddy's cheek. "And the cut?"
"Edge of the steps."
"Ouch," she murmured.
As the blood was removed from the surrounding fur, they were able to see the cut in clearer detail. It turned out to be not as bad as originally thought and they merely bandaged it up after thoroughly cleansing the area and applying ointment. The dog's paws were similarly treated and wrapped before they moved on to the biggest injury - the dislocated hip. Both of them took turns examining the area, then conducted the x-ray, which confirmed their suspicions about the hip subluxation. But the x-ray also showed that the same leg was fractured in two places.
Which made things a lot more complicated, and they hadn't yet been cleared to handle anything this delicate. Looking up, Em bit her lip. "The Doc should deal with this, I reckon?"
"Yeah," Matt agreed, sounding rather disappointed. "I'll get him."
He strode away, pulling off his gloves and, left alone, Em checked the dog's vital signs. Everything was normal and with a sigh, she began to stroke the pale yellow fur. The one drawback to the Muggle side of animal care was that she couldn't just whip out her wand and make things better. Well, technically, she could. But it seemed somehow unethical to do that. If the owners were magical and wanted her to do it, she would. But what were the chances that a wizard would bring his injured pet to a Muggle hospital when magical ones existed?
"So what's this, then?" Doc Meriwether said, bustling into the room. He walked to the x-ray light panel, scratched his bushy salt-and-pepper beard and frowned. After a moment, he went over to the unconscious dog and prodded him with nimble fingers. "Hmm. Dual femoral fractures and a hip subluxation." He looked up and glanced between Em and Matt. "Anything else going on with the patient that we can't see?"
"Well, since the ball of the femur is completely out of the socket, the joint capsule and some ligaments are most likely torn," Matt answered.
The Doc nodded. "Very good. And how would you handle this, Hon?" he asked, turning to Emerson.
"Um, we should try the least invasive method first, which would basically be placing the head of the femur back into the socket. Then we tape it securely so that the femur is held firmly there, and then apply a special type of sling to keep the head of the femur where it's supposed to be."
Doc Meriwether smiled at her. "Precisely. And if that doesn't work?"
"We would have to do surgery."
"Which we should always try to avoid, if possible," he said, moving around to the supply table and pulling out a pair of gloves. "How would you two like to fix this boy up?"
Em's eyes widened. They hadn't yet been allowed to handle anything of this magnitude by themselves. "You're serious?"
"Of course I'm serious, Hon," the Doc replied. "Now, what's the first thing that needs to be done?"
Matt looked at her for a moment before answering. "Set the fractures so that when we move the leg, they won't be compounded."
"Let's get to it, then. Double-check the x-ray to determine the exact location of the fractures and use a gentle but firm pressure to set the leg."
Emerson, her heart pounding, set to the task at hand. It was moments like these that she felt supremely confident in her calling. This was what she was meant to do with her life; there was no doubt in her mind about it. The Doc's drawling Texas voice guided them on, and between her and Matt, the fractures were quickly set.
"Very good," Doc Meriwether murmured appreciatively. "Now, to set the hip, keep in mind the torn ligaments. You don't want to stretch or move them any more than necessary."
Matt nodded, gripping the affected hip firmly in both hands. He would need to brace himself and hold the socket steady so that she could slip the ball back into it. "Ready?"
Em grasped hold of the dislocated femur. "Yeah."
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a second, the adrenaline beginning to pump through her veins. With a slow but steady force, she began pulling back, trying to get it into the right angle, but working it around to avoid bone rubbing against bone while trying not to stretch the ligaments too much. The forceful yet cautious tension had perspiration running down her face, but she couldn't stop now. Matt was sweating too, with the pressure of holding the hip completely still and straining, inch by inch, she brought the ball gently back to the socket, where it settled in almost of its own accord. She felt it fall into place and the two of them gently eased the leg onto the table, and finally let go.
For a second, Emerson felt herself trembling, all the tension and adrenaline making her muscles jump. Upon exhaling a few deep, shaky breaths, she looked up to see Matt Adler looking as stunned as she felt and then as she watched, his wide grin spread across his face.
Doc Meriwether began to clap. "Excellent! Excellent work, you two!"
The adrenaline drained rapidly from her body, leaving her feeling suddenly weary but Emerson laughed as she watched Doc enthusiastically shaking Matt's hand. He came over and shook hers, beaming not unlike a proud father.
"You two will go far. Yes, indeed! That was magnificent work. Now, just to be sure, do another x-ray to verify that everything is where it's supposed to be. Then apply the sling. I'll leave you two to finish that up, while I go and inform the owner. Good work."
Then, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, he strolled out of the room. Em smiled after him and glancing up, found that Matt was still grinning at her.
"Wasn't that awesome!" he exclaimed, rushing forward. He pulled her into a hug and swung her around.
Still exhilarated by their accomplishment, Em hugged him back. "Yeah. That was really neat."
He put her down and she began to pull away. But he held her tighter and when she looked up quizzically, before she could react, he had dipped his head and kissed her. For a split second, Emerson froze, her eyes wide. And then she jerked away from him and out of his embrace, her mouth falling open in shock.
Reaching up, she roughly wiped at her mouth, gaping at him in disbelief. "What did you just do?"
"I kissed you," he said matter-of-factly, as if it was no big deal. As if he'd done nothing more significant than shake her hand.
A rush of fury swelled inside Emerson and her ears began to ring. How dare he! What right did he have- the nerve- her hand raised itself to slap the ever-loving shit out of him, to hex him, to something...
"But it has now been set to rights," said Doc Meriwether's voice from outside the room, jerking Emerson out of the red haze of rage.
Dropping her hand, she strode over to the x-ray machine, dragged it to the unconscious dog and began conducting the second x-ray. A few seconds later, Doc re-entered the room, followed by an anxious-looking Asian man, who stood to the side wringing his hands.
"And he'll be okay? He'll be able to walk?" the man kept asking.
"There's no reason why he shouldn't," Doc Meriwether said soothingly. "And it's thanks to these two young people."
"Thank you so much," the man said, rushing forward and grabbing Em's hand before turning and repeating the gesture with Matt. "How can I ever repay you?"
Em managed a weak smile before quickly returning to what she'd been doing. The x-ray showed that Teddy's bones were now perfectly aligned and where they should be, but all of her excitement and accomplishment had been ruined. Removing her gloves, she went to the sink and began washing her hands, feeling herself shaking. That bastard! How dare he- how dare he kiss her! What the hell was wrong with him? What the fuck was his problem? He thought he could do that, did he? He thought he could-
Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Doc leading Teddy's owner back to the waiting area, while explaining that the dog would need to be kept overnight for observation. She heard footsteps approaching her and her blood boiled.
"Are you okay?" Matt asked quietly, touching her shoulder.
Emerson stiffened and whirled around, emerald eyes blazing. "Do not fucking touch me!"
He drew his hand away as if he'd been burned, his face reddening. "I-I'm sor-"
She pushed past him and out of the room before he could finish his pathetic apology, and before she did something she would regret. She slammed the door shut behind her and leaned back against it, trembling with rage, her hands clenched into fists. That fucking bastard. After a few minutes, her shock and fury began to fade and Emerson's vision blurred as tears filled her eyes.
She was so stupid! How could she have been so wrong about him? Why would he do something like that? Why wouldn't he listen?
Choking back her sobs, she sat down on the nearest chair and covered her face with her hands. Why did he have to ruin it? The day had been going so great, and was only going to get better with Brandon's impending visit. The greatness factor had unexpectedly jumped another notch with the successful treatment of poor fractured Teddy and she'd been so happy. Until-
"Fuck," she whispered angrily, swiping at her eyes before doing the same with her lips.
It's your own fault, a voice said unkindly in her head. Weren't Kady and Brandon telling you to be careful? But you kept him on anyway. And not only that, but you didn't tell Brandon about any of it.
"I have to tell him now," she whispered miserably, tears spilling from her eyes. "I can't keep this from him."
Why hadn't she told Brandon about Matt's actions, about his asking her out, and her general discomfort around him? Hadn't she learned anything from the recent hardships caused by her keeping secrets? And now, with this unwelcome development, the confession was certain to be doubly painful.
Sighing, she glanced at her watch and felt a rush of relief to discover that her shift was over. Em wiped her face, picked up her bag and took a deep breath before returning to the examination room. Thankfully, Matt was no longer in there, and she took a few minutes to gather her thoughts and write up Teddy's chart. When she reached the waiting area after clocking out, however, he was standing by the check-in counter, looking worried.
He stepped forward when he saw her. "Emerson, I'm so sorry-" he began.
But he must have picked up on the murder in her eyes, because one look at her face and he fell silent. She stormed out of the building without a word and as soon as she reached the corner, concentrated and Disapparated. Inside her bathroom, she tore her clothes off and jumped into the shower, feeling so dirty, as if he'd touched her all over instead of just her lips. Her tears mingled with the scalding liquid pouring over her and she stood under it until the water turned abruptly cold. Wrapping herself in a large towel, she went to the sink and brushed her teeth again and again. Finally, feeling somewhat better, she returned to the bedroom and set to getting dressed. Brandon's Portkey would be arriving at seven-thirty and she wanted to be ready for him, in every way.
Glancing at his picture, she couldn't hold back the smile that blossomed on her face as a sense of peace crept over her. He was waving and blowing kisses to her and she walked over and picked up the picture. Reaching out, she traced his features with her finger before pressing her lips to the glass.
"I love you," she whispered. "Don't be too mad at me, okay?"
With a sigh, she checked her appearance in the mirror, decided she looked presentable, and Apparated to the IMA terminal. His Portkey arrived right on time and her bosom filled with love when she saw him. She watched his dark eyes light up when they met hers and her heart began to pound with excitement.
"Emerson!" he exclaimed, hurrying to her and sweeping her up in a bear hug. "Oh God, how I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too," she said blissfully, burying her face in his neck. She nearly swooned as her nostrils filled with his aroma and she squeezed him fiercely. "I've missed you so much."
He pulled away and cupped her face, his brown eyes full of love. And suddenly there was nothing more she wanted in the whole world than to feel his mouth on hers, the only man she wanted. Ever. Reaching up, she pressed her lips to his and he hugged her closer and kissed her back. The world around her, the noises, even the residual rage in the back of her mind at Matt Adler and his shocking audacity disappeared as her senses reeled with this reintroduction to the man she loved. His lips wandered to her neck, then all over her face, leaving little lingering kisses, his fingers tenderly caressing her skin and she wanted him.
"Let's go," she whispered breathlessly.
He nodded and the next second they were in her bedroom, feverishly undressing each other. Their joining was hard and urgent and neither of them lasted very long. Brandon slumped on top of her, gasping, and Em kept her eyes closed, welcoming his weight as she savored the feeling of still being so intimately connected with him. They breathed hard for a moment before he slipped out of her and began to roll off.
But Em wrapped her arms and legs tighter around him. "Don't go."
He raised himself up, resting his weight on his elbows. "Aren't I crushing you?"
"No. I quite like it."
That must have been pleasing to his ears because she felt him hardening against her thigh and she grinned. Rolling them over, she straddled his hips before reaching down to guide him back into her. She then proceeded to show him just how much she liked it and it was a long time before either of them were sensible enough for further speech.
"I love you," he whispered once they'd calmed down, rubbing his thumb up and down her cheek.
She sighed happily. "I love you, too." Reaching out, she copied his gesture, her fingers tingling at the male roughness of his jawline. "So how are you?"
"I'm good," he replied, smiling.
"How's the training going?"
She watched his face break into an even wider smile and couldn't suppress a rush of pride. To think that at a mere twenty-five years of age he was set to be the Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports! And from what he'd told her, that put him on the fast track to be the Head himself within ten years.
"I'm so proud of you," she said softly, leaning over to kiss him.
He sighed and ran a hand lazily through his thick brown hair. "Yeah, it's great. I'd have turned it down if not for your Dad."
"And I'd have kicked your arse if you had," she returned, gazing at him in exasperation. But she couldn't deny that his willingness to put aside his dreams for her made her feel quite cherished. To think he loved her that much!
"Man, I was so nervous when I went to see him," Brandon was saying. "But it was even worse with your Mum. I could've wet myself, I was that skittish."
She laughed. "You'd given her a few days to calm down, right? Why so nervous?"
Brandon looked startled for a second before appearing to regain his composure. "Oh, I just wanted to get it out of the way, you know? Get back on good terms with her. Your Dad had said she was kind of pissed off at me, and a pissed off Dr. Granger is nothing to sneeze at."
"Tell me about it," Em murmured, recalling her mother's furious brown eyes in Ballynore's breakfast nook. "That was really stupid of me, wasn't it?"
"Of us," he amended. "And yes, it was. But we've learned the lesson, I hope, not to keep important things from those we love. Or each other."
Emerson shifted uncomfortably, feeling a stab of guilt. Wiggling out of his embrace, she got up and put on her bathrobe before going into the bathroom. After using the toilet, she stared at her anxious reflection in the mirror while she washed her hands. Sighing heavily, she turned the water off and squared her shoulders.
Do it now.
Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she nodded once and turned around. Brandon was sitting on the chair at her desk when she re-entered the room. He had put his boxers and jeans back on but not his shirt, and she stared at his strong, muscular back, her fingers itching to touch him.
Stop stalling! a voice chided in her head.
Em sighed again and walked over to the bed. Climbing onto it, she drew her legs under her. "Brandon, I need to tell you something but you have to promise not to get mad."
He looked suddenly frightened. "What is it?"
"Promise me," she insisted and he frowned.
"I promise."
"Okay," she said. Exhaling a deep breath, she began to tell him about what had happened at work, about the complicated procedure to fix the Labrador's hip and leg. "It was the first time we'd done something like that on our own and it was-" she broke off and shook her head, remembering the heady feeling. "-it was awesome. That sense of accomplishment."
Brandon was looking bewildered. "That's great, Em. Why would I be mad about that?"
"I'm not finished," she said irritably. "We were very excited and Doc was, too. He praised us and then he went back out to inform the dog's owner. Matt hugged me and I hugged him back, cause I was happy. But when I started to pull away, he wouldn't let me go and then he just kissed me. I-I mean, not like tongue or anything. It was just a press and... well, I was so mad because... well, obviously, he had no right to do that!"
Her boyfriend stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable before he turned away. "I see."
Emerson bit her lip anxiously. "Brandon?"
He didn't looked up. "Yeah?"
"I-I'm sure he didn't mean to do-"
"Of course he meant to do it, Em!" Brandon interrupted sharply. "He held onto you when you were trying to pull away, didn't he? What, did he momentarily lose control of his limbs or something?"
She sighed. "I was so angry. Actually, I'm surprised I didn't wandlessly hex him or something. I just got out of there as fast as I could. God, I can't- why doesn't he get a clue? How many times-"
"How many times what?" Brandon interjected, his voice low and chilly. "Don't tell me he's tried this before."
Emerson froze, realizing what she'd just said. She hadn't been intending to dump it all out like that. But now, she might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, as the saying went. She sighed. "No, he hasn't. But he's asked me out a few times. To like baseball games and things."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't think it was important."
Brandon scowled at her. "Not important? How could this not be important, Em? Some bloke has been harassing you and you don't consider it important enough to mention to me?"
"He didn't harass me," she answered, feeling herself inexplicably going on the defensive. "He's my friend."
"No, he's not," Brandon said sharply.
Emerson sat up straighter, arching an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"This bloke keeps asking you out, pawing you, hugging you and now he's kissed you-"
"He didn't mean to do that! It was just the excitement-"
Wait, what was she saying? Why was she saying these things when she didn't believe them herself? What was she doing? But even as she wondered, Emerson found herself unable to leave them off until finally, Brandon stood up and angrily blurted the same thing that the voice in her head was shouting:
"Why are you defending him?"
"He's my friend." Wasn't he? Because how could she have someone so close to her who wasn't? She couldn't have been that misguided, could she? She couldn't have made so big a mistake. He was her friend, wasn't he, and if he was, then she hadn't made a mistake.
"He's not your friend, Emerson!" Brandon returned furiously. "Why are you being so stubborn? Open your pretty green eyes and look the hell around! Friends don't do things like this. This man doesn't respect you. If he did, he would have heard you the first, the second, the fucking third time you said you weren't interested. But still he persists. And every time he crosses the line, he steps a little bit further over it!"
Em glared at him. "You promised you wouldn't get angry."
He gave her a cold look. "Do not try to change the subject. You know I'm right, Em. Why are you fighting it? So he's not who you thought he was, I understand. Everybody makes mistakes; we're not perfect. But now you need to do the right thing."
"If you're talking about terminating my friendship with Matt-"
"You're damn right that's what I'm talking about!"
Deep inside, Emerson knew he was right. She'd known it all along, from the very beginning when Matt had stammered and stuttered upon first meeting her. But she'd told herself that she wasn't someone who judged people on such petty things. She gave people chances, seconds, thirds.
And Matt had squandered each and every one.
But something about Brandon's attitude infuriated her and she felt the old bullheadedness -- which, when she was a child, had exasperated her parents to no end -- rearing its ugly head.
Brandon must have picked up on it, too, even as his dark eyes still burned with anger. And having had first-hand experience with her obstinacy, knowing that the harder she was pushed, the harder she resisted, he looked away and took a few deep breaths. When he spoke again, his voice was determinedly calm. "You might think this Matt Adler bloke is your friend. But his actions are shouting what he really is. He is dangerous, Emerson."
"Oh, quit being so bloody dramatic!" she snapped, jumping up off the bed and stalking into the bathroom.
Brandon followed, his ire raised again. "I'm being dramatic? No, I'm telling the truth, and you know it! First, it's hugs and seemingly casual touches, and now it's a kiss. What's next? What're you waiting for him to do? Grope you? Rape you?"
His words hit her like a ton of bricks and she whirled around, gaping at him in shock.
But he wasn't finished. "I didn't like him from the very first time I met him. But I told myself I was just being a jealous boyfriend. But Emerson, I'm not the only one who is uneasy about him. Your roommate feels the same way, and I know you do, too. What are you afraid of? I hope I know you as well as I think I do, because otherwise I can't help but wonder if you like this attention he gives you."
Feeling stunned and stung, Em glared at him through the tears in her eyes. "You know, Brandon, sometimes you can be a real bastard."
"Yeah?" he asked softly. "Well, at least I don't sit around bullshitting myself. At least I'm honest."
He spun on his heel and strode out of the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Emerson burst into tears, sinking down onto the covered toilet. She buried her face in her hands and cried out of hurt and anger.
And she cried out of remorse.
Because he was right -- she knew he was. Hadn't she spent countless hours fretting about why Matt Adler wouldn't listen? But oh Merlin, how could she have been so wrong? Was it really like Brandon thought? Seemingly innocent hugs and touches and now, a kiss? And then-
... every time he crosses the line, he steps a little bit further over it... what're you waiting for him to do? Grope you? Rape you?
Em gasped and sobbed, hugging her knees to her chest. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The thought filled her with horror, all those times she'd been alone with him, whether in class or at work. Even here in her dorm.
But whenever that unease about Matt Adler had come up, she would remind herself of what a help he had been to her, how he'd assisted her in getting settled into Harvard. He'd shown her around campus, introduced her to Doc Meriwether, tried to educate her a bit about his hometown and its loves. He was just generally so sunny with his wide grin and boyishness. And what about his bad experiences with women? She was loath to be added to the list-
And have you ever thought that perhaps the reason he had "bad experiences" was because he treated them the way he treats you? a small voice interrupted in her head. As if, fundamentally, their opinions didn't mean anything, because isn't that what his actions say when he disregards your wishes time and time again?
Brandon was right -- Matt didn't respect her. If he did, he wouldn't have done what he had in that examination room at Morningside, with poor patched-up Teddy lying on the steel table. Her physical appearance was what had grabbed his attention and it was the prospect of having her on his arm to show off, of winning her like some kind of hunting trophy that motivated him.
And he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted, one way or the other. Not unless she cut him off once and for all.
Feeling utterly miserable, Em wiped her eyes and sniffled. She knew that, of course. She'd always known that. She was such an idiot, fighting with Brandon when he was only trying to protect her. Why was she fighting with him over somebody like Matt Adler? What the hell was her problem, anyway?
Jumping up, she scowled at her reflection in the mirror for a moment before turning and walking to the door. Upon reaching it, she hesitated. What if he'd gone out? What if he was still angry? Which he certainly had every right to be...
You'll just have to try, won't ya? the voice said unkindly. This is your wrong to make right. So do it.
Exhaling a deep breath, she grabbed the doorknob before she lost her nerve. Pulling the door open, she looked up and froze. Brandon was standing right there, his hand outstretched in the act of reaching for the knob.
For a moment, they stared at each other and Emerson felt weak with relief. Clearly, he'd been about to come to her, which surely meant that he still cared. She hadn't pushed him completely around the bend to the point of washing his hands of her and good riddance. This wonderful man. What would she ever do if she lost him?
"I'm sorry," she blurted, at exactly the same time that he said exactly the same thing.
And the next second they were in each other's arms and she was sobbing as she clung to him. "I'm s-sorry, Brandon. Oh God, I hate when we fight! I'm so sorry. I love you."
"I love you," he whispered back, crushing her to him.
He walked them over to the bed and they sat, still clinging to each other. After a long while, Em calmed down and raised her head. His dark eyes were troubled and he reached out to wipe her cheeks, which only made her eyes overflow again.
"You're right, about everything," she said hoarsely, shaking her head. "I never thought about it like that, about how he doesn't respect me. If he did, he wouldn't disregard my boundaries the way he does." Grabbing a tissue from the box on her nightstand, she blew her nose loudly. "I can't believe I was so blind."
Brandon squeezed her hand. "It's hard to see the faults of those we're close to."
"But that's the thing, I'm not close to him. When I think about it, I'm really not. I haven't even told him I'm a witch and that's such a fundamental part of who I am."
Her boyfriend sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His jaw worked for a time before he spoke. "I hope you don't think I don't want you to be friends with blokes. I'm not that kind of person and-"
"I know," she interrupted softly, reaching for his hand.
He continued as if she hadn't spoken, though his grip on her hands became almost painful. "-and I could never do that. But I don't like that you kept this from me, Em. It hurts and it makes me almost want to be that kind of paranoid person. I hate that I'm so far away from you so much of the time, and finding out things like this doesn't help at all."
"I'm sorry," she mumbled tearfully, feeling horrified at herself for hurting him. "I never meant to hurt you."
"We never mean to," he answered. He sighed, sitting tensely with her hands clutched in his, before jumping up suddenly. "I hope to God that I don't meet that fucker this weekend, Em, because a great many lives would be destroyed if I do, and that's the truth."
She believed him. Having the patience of a saint, he rarely got truly enraged but when he did, one wanted to be nowhere in his vicinity. And from the blazing of his eyes and the pinched whiteness of his nose at the moment, she knew that he was barely restraining himself. For his own health and safety, Em sincerely hoped that Matt Adler stayed far away from her for the next few days.
"Are you sure that's all he did?" he asked sharply all of a sudden. "Because I swear to God if he has so much as-"
"That's all he did, Brandon, I swear," she said quickly, jumping up. Cupping his face gently, she peered anxiously into his eyes. "Okay?"
It took him a moment of harsh breathing but finally he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. He was trembling and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling a dampness forming against her cheeks. It was only when he sniffled that she realized that he was crying, too.
"I don't want to lose you," he choked. "I can't survive with you, Em."
She kissed his nose, his cheeks, his lips. "You won't have to. I'm not leaving you. Never, ever. I love you, Odie. So much."
They stood for a long time in the middle of her posh Ivy League bedroom, clutching each other, until all their shed tears had evaporated, taking much of their desperation along. They held each other until the anxious quickening of their hearts had faded again into serenity, though that calmness was quickly shattered when her fingers tangled in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Then the hardworking muscles inside the young chests found themselves in a frenzy once again, thumping urgently, beating to sustain the bodies that writhed and trembled and moaned. They swelled with the passion in their owners, straining to keep up, pulsing in time with the movements, the cries, the ascent.
The glorious release.
And then, gradually, the hearts slowed again, retreated back to blissful serenity and rested.
Until next time.
*******
November 17
"I'm telling you, Kady, I had never been so angry in my whole life," Emerson said fervently. "And
that's saying something, cause I can think of a few instances that landed my bum in hot water."
Her roommate looked amused. "Tell me one."
Leaning back on the living room couch, Em's brow furrowed in concentration before clearing. "There was one time in second year at Hogwarts when I was going through a really stressful time. There were five of us in my dorm, me, Lyna, this girl Jerrianne and her two lackeys. I called them the Fakers, and I hated their guts." She sighed. "Of course the feeling was mutual, but I was usually able to ignore them. But that year started off horribly, and long story short, Jerrianne said something that made Lyna cry, and I went to the Great Hall -- it was lunch time and that's where we had our meals -- and basically poured a pitcher of juice over Jerrianne's head."
Kady burst out laughing, her eyes wide. "You didn't!"
"I did," Em said, grinning. "Of course, I got points taken off, something like a week's detention and the Headmistress wrote to my parents. They were quite pissed, let me tell you." Sighing again, she shook her head. "It's a good thing I'm a fully-trained witch with a measure of restraint against wandless magic, because Matt could've ended up being turned into a fat white grub."
"Which would've been no less than he deserved," the petite brunette returned acidly. "The fucking audacity!"
Em nodded. "I know. If Doc Meriwether hadn't returned to the room when he did, I'd have slapped Matt Adler so hard, he wouldn't know his arse from his elbow henceforth."
Kady went into hysterics and after a moment, Em joined her, grateful for the respite from agonizing over how she was going to tell Matt that their friendship was over. She hadn't seen him since the incident, which was just as well because Brandon had been on the warpath the whole weekend. She had devoted herself to making it up to him, and they'd managed to salvage that shaky beginning and have a very meaningful few days together. He had only just left about an hour earlier and he'd made her promise to write to him as soon as possible and to let him know if she needed any help.
"I'll be fine, I promise," she reassured him, not liking the villainous look in his eyes. "I can handle this."
"All right. If you're sure."
"I'm sure."
But she had stood in the same spot for almost five minutes after he'd left, knowing that she was not sure at all. How was she going to do it? And what about the classes she and Matt shared? What about work? They were still partnered together, and it would be bound to affect their performance.
There was no other option, though, of that she was certain. She was not the kind of person with such low self-esteem that she would keep people like that around her. And Matt had been given so many chances to toe the line. There was nothing else to be concluded than that he didn't care a fig what she said; he was going to get what he wanted, in slow increments if necessary. And Emerson had not been raised by as strong a woman as Hermione Granger Potter to now lay down and tolerate such disrespect. Why should she? She had been taught well and she had the example of her father and countless other men in her family.
And above all that, she had a man of her own who loved and cherished her for who she was, who treated her like a queen, and respected her.
So, there was no way Matt Adler was going to be kept on, and she would find a way to do this if it killed her.
"Do you wish Brandon could be there with you when you confront Matt?" Kady was asking.
Emerson looked over at her. "Honestly? No. I need to handle this myself. And if he were there, I bet Matt would say something like he was forcing me to do it." She reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Besides, it would be rather irresponsible of me to have Brandon present, with knowing how violent he feels about all this. He would likely beat the shit out of Matt."
"I can go with you, if you'd like," her roommate said, frowning suddenly. "You should have somebody with you because quite frankly, I don't trust him to take it well. Hasn't he been sulking on and off since July?"
"Yeah, he has. And thanks, Kady. I think I'd like it if you were there."
"With our wands in easy reach, preferably."
The two of them snorted and whipped out the polished sticks. Laughing, they began to mock-duel and it might have gone on for a while if the doorbell hadn't rang. They both froze and looked at each other.
"You expecting someone?" Em asked.
Kady shook her head. "No. Are you?"
"No."
They tucked their wands away and Kady went to answer the door. Standing on tiptoe, she looked through the peephole and gasped. "It's him!"
Em sat up abruptly. "Who? Matt?"
"Yeah. And- what- bloody hell, he has flowers!" Kady turned around to stare at Em incredulously. "Flowers?"
Feeling suddenly nervous, Emerson bit her lip. The opportunity to do the right thing had come so much sooner than she'd expected. But there was no time like the present, as the saying went. "Let him in."
Kady opened the door and Matt Adler entered, holding a large bouquet of what appeared to be varigated tulips in assorted colors. He looked as nervous as Em felt but she squared her shoulders and kept her face blank.
"Hi," he said.
Em looked steadily back at him. "Hello."
"Er- sorry for coming by so late."
But not sorry enough to not do it, eh? "What is it?"
He glanced at Kady, who stared stonily back at him. "Um, could I talk to you in private?"
Emerson arched an eyebrow. "Anything you need to say, you can say it in front of Kady."
Matt blushed and stared at the bouquet in his hand. "Um, well, I just wanted to apologize for what happened on Friday. I-I shouldn't have done that."
"So why did you?" she blurted. "See, the thing I don't understand, Matt, is why you keep persisting. Have I ever given you any sign or hint or clue that I'm interested in your advances? I thought we were friends, and that's all I thought we were."
"We are," he said quickly. "Friends, I mean. We-we're friends and-"
Taking a deep breath, Em stood up. "Actually, Matt, we're not. I can't do this anymore. I will always be grateful to you for helping me get settled here, but I think it would be best if we no longer hung out together or anything else like that."
"Wh-what?"
"We will obviously still be classmates and co-workers, but nothing beyond that-"
His face was pale. "Why?"
"What do you mean, why?" she snapped. "You kissed me, Matt! After more than a year of me telling you I'm not interested, that I have a boyfriend, you still went ahead and did that! Which tells me that you're not listening to me at all, you don't care about my opinions, my feelings-"
"I do care," he interrupted, taking a step towards her. "That's why I did it. I-I really like you, Emerson, and if you just gave me a chance-"
She scoffed and shook her head in disbelief. "See. That's what I'm talking about! You don't give a shit what I say. It's all about you and what you want."
"Why is that wrong?" he asked sharply, his face reddening. "Why are you staying with some guy who can't even-"
"Hey, do not fucking talk about my boyfriend, all right!" Emerson shouted, stalking forward to point a finger in his face, fury gushing through her being. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I am so sick of you trying to put him down! Because guess what? You can't. He's more than you can ever hope to be. You don't know shit about him or what he means to me. I love him. Got it? I love him and he loves me, and if you seriously think I would leave him for you then you are completely certifiable." Stepping back, she took a deep breath, crossed her arms across her chest and looked him straight in the eye. "This friendship is over and I would appreciate it if you leave now."
An ugly look was twisting his face. "I thought you were different. But now I see that you are just like all those other pretty girls who look down on other people for not being rich or smart or pretty enough for you. You're just like all those women who use people and then discard them when they can't or won't be used anymore."
"Well, clearly, I'm doing you a favor, then, eh?" she retorted icily. "Good-bye."
He stared at her for so long that she thought he wasn't going to go, but then he spun around abruptly and stormed to the door. His hand on the knob, he paused and looked back, his brown eyes full of anger and hatred. "You are going to be sorry. You think I don't know about you? About what a freak you are? You think I've never noticed you furtively poking things with some stick you carry around, making things happen? I wonder how the Harvard authorities would feel to know that they have somebody like that in their midst, somebody who might perhaps use her stick to get the answers to tests, for instance."
Emerson felt as if somebody had sucker-punched her in the gut, then cast a Stunning spell on her. She felt frozen to the very spot, her eyes wide in horror. He knew. But how? She'd always been careful with her wand, with her magic. How did he-
"Bet you're wondering how I know, right?" Matt said, grinning, and if not for the hatred in his eyes, he would've looked completely normal, like the bloke she had thought he was. "I observe. I watch you more closely than you know, and I'm sure you thought you were being discreet, but-" he shrugged, then sighed in mock-helplessness. "I thought I could keep it a secret, but I realize now that I must do the right thing and report this. So, good night, Miss Sorceress. Or is it Witch?"
He turned and grasped the doorknob again. Something inside Emerson's head was screaming at her to do something, anything, Stun him, just don't let him leave, not like this, not with this knowledge.
"Oh, I almost forgot to give you your flowers," he said nastily. "Very expensive, they were. Hothouse tulips."
He started to turn around, the bouquet outstretched in one hand, and the next instant, several things happened in very quick succession. Emerson's hand closed around the wand in her pocket, but he was already looking at her before she could even pull it out.
But then, as her heart sank in a panic, she heard her roommate yell, "Obliviate!"
Matt froze, the bouquet quivering in his hand as his eyes momentarily unfocused. Glancing over, Em saw Kady quickly tucking her wand away, and looked back at the man she had thought was her friend. How quickly he had turned against her! Although, when one really thought about it, he had never really been with her in the first place-
I observe. I watch you more closely than you know...
She shivered involuntarily, her eyes wide and her heart pounding as she watched him blink in confusion at the bouquet.
"Oh, your flowers-" he began, but he paused when he saw her, a frown appearing on his face. "Hey, you're in my Clinical Studies class, aren't you? With Professor Larch?"
Emerson felt weak but she managed to nod. "Yeah. And the flowers aren't mine; it's the Dudley House lounge you want. Good night."
"Oh, right," he said, grinning absently. "Night, then."
The door closed behind him and Em sank shakily down onto the couch, her hands trembling. "Oh my God." She felt her roommate's arms encircle her, and she started to cry.
"It's okay," Kady whispered. "It's over now."
"Oh, Kady," she sobbed, hugging her friend. "Thank God you were here. Thank you so much."
It was a long time before she stopped trembling, and only then did Kady leave to make steaming mugs of orange and peppermint tea. Feeling numb even with the minty and citrusy fragrances filling her senses, Em sipped the hot beverage, trying not to think about what had just transpired.
A thought occurred to her suddenly and she looked up in alarm. "Kady, how much of his memory did you modify?"
"Just the ones relating to you," the petite brunette said gently, putting down her mug. "He won't remember being friends with you at all. Not that he ever really was, the bastard."
Feeling her eyes prickling, Emerson put down her mug, too and stared at her hands. "I can't believe this. I can't believe he knew!"
"Yeah. He turned out to be so much creepier than I'd thought, and I did think he was from the very beginning. You're better off."
She nodded gravely. "I know." Her head began to ache all of a sudden and she closed her eyes wearily. "I know."
Before she went to bed that night, Emerson wrote a long letter to her parents, detailing everything that had happened with Matt Adler, from the time they had first met up to the recent shocking events. She told them about Kady's Obliviating him, knowing that her mother, at least, would know if there was anything they would need to do, any foreseeable consequences of that very necessary action.
Once that letter was folded and sealed, she set it aside and wrote one to the man she loved, her tears falling onto it and being absorbed into the paper. He, too, was informed of what had just happened and she reassured him that although she was a bit shaken up, she would be fine. She thanked him for loving her the way he did, for everything he did for her. She thanked him for being who he was, so giving and selfless, so patient because God knew she wasn't the easiest person to be with, and she loved him for that, for putting up with her. She was so lucky to have found him, so very blessed.
And she told him that she loved him, more than words could say, more than her own life. More than anything, and if he needed to be certain of only one thing in the whole world, he could be certain of that.
When at last she fell asleep, she felt drained in every way. She had tackled something larger and darker than herself and had survived. But not unscratched. And she would still have to work and study alongside someone who had looked at her with such hatred in his eyes, someone who probably would have truly hurt her if the opportunity had presented itself.
Maybe one day she would be able to come to terms with that pain, but now it was time to put it aside, to rest. To recharge.
Because life goes on.
********
December 25
"All right, Budget. Your turn," Emerson said, gesturing to her younger brother.
Luke grinned and tramped forward through the snow, tugging down the knitted cap on his head. It was just after eleven o'clock on Christmas morning and the four Potter siblings were outside on Ballynore's wide back lawn. All their cheeks were rosy with good health and the cold, but they were bundled up warmly and their bellies were full.
The morning had progressed as traditionally as always, with the whole family gobbling up Mum's freshly baked sticky buns and frothy hot chocolate before heading to the family room to open presents. There were no guests this year and Emerson had felt so content in the bosom of her family that the gift she'd been opening had lain forgotten in her hands as she watched them.
She watched her little sister clutch a plain white envelope to her chest, hazel eyes closed in bliss and mouth open with joy. Twelve-year-old Davina had been steadily developing a love of the Arts in general and Dance in particular, and the envelope contained an invitation to a summer program at the Royal Ballet School. It was strange how the idea had never crossed their minds before, but now it felt so right, that Vina should be interested in Dance. She was so lithe and graceful, all long legs, creamy skin and freckles. Oh, and that glorious mass of auburn curls, which Vina seemed to be slowly coming to tolerate, if not love.
She watched her youngest brother laugh over the box of classic Muggle gag gifts that she'd gotten him in Boston - Billy Bob teeth, a Pull My Finger, Fred!, exploding gum, black mouth sweets, a Basket Case game, a Scary Skull and a Digger Dog. Being the colossal troublemaker that he was, Em had no doubt that Budget would find ample opportunities to put them to good (or not so good, as the case may be) use. The ones that required batteries had been customized to run on magic instead, and would surely provide many hours of amusement to him and his mischief-making friends. And at fifteen, they would be sure to come up with many more uses that the manufacturers might not have thought of.
Ben was examining the new magic-powered Palm Pilot that Mum and Dad had presented him with, a small smile playing about his mouth as he tried out various aspects. It was the very latest model, quite expensive, but chock full of useful and clever features that would surely help him in his time at Oxford. Not that Ben seemed to need very much help; he was doing quite swimmingly on his own.
She watched the way her mother's eyes lit up when she saw the rare, leather-bound edition of some book or other that Dad had brought her. She watched them look lovingly into each other's eyes, and smiled at the way they murmured against each other's lips, her father's hand reaching out to gently move a lock of Mum's hair aside. Of all the gifts that she and her siblings had ever received, Emerson knew that this was the very best one -- the gift of parents who loved each other as much as they did, and who showed their children, through daily words and deeds, what love truly meant.
Emerson had emitted a blissful sigh, which had caused her family to look up at her.
"Are you okay?" Mum had asked, her brown eyes filled with concern.
"I'm great," she'd said, smiling.
And she still was, even as she listened to Luke and Vina squabbling over the sled. Really, if her brother and sister went a day without bickering, she would worry about their well-being.
"Didn't you hear Em say it was my turn?" Budget snapped.
Vina scowled at him. "Of course, I heard her! But I had this one first. You'll have to use the other one."
"This one is faster," Luke said, tugging on the shiny gold and scarlet sled. "Come on, Vina. You'll still have to wait till I'm done, so what does it matter if I use it now?"
"Oh, all right!"
Luke grinned. "That's the spirit."
He began to walk around the sled, peering at it closely before moving it to the top of the slope that they'd been riding down. He got into it, and Em frowned as she watched him crouch in an awkward-looking position.
"What're you doing, Lukas?" she began, walking over to him. "That's not how- oh, no, you don't! Budget!"
But it was too late. Luke stood up in the sled, arms outstretched for balance, and with a devilish grin, nudged the sled forward. He let out a yell as the sled picked up speed and flew down the slope, his knees slightly bent as he was taken on what Em couldn't deny looked like an exhilarating ride. Ben and Davina were whooping, and Em had almost given in to the smile that was fighting to get out, when the sled hit a rough patch and tipped over. Because Luke had been standing, he had a longer way to fall and she laughed involuntarily at the way his arms flapped in a fruitless effort to remain upright.
Ben and Vina were howling by now as they watched Luke disentangle himself from the sled, covered in clumps of powdery snow. Emerson Apparated beside him and reached out a hand to help him up.
"Ow, my head hurts," he moaned, rubbing the back of it.
"That's your brain trying to comprehend your stupidity," she said briskly and her brother snorted.
"You gotta admit it looked awesome, though, didn't it?" he said, and his green eyes, which were exactly like hers, were alive with laughter. "My own little attempt at snowboarding."
Em giggled. "Is that what it was?"
"Ah, shut it. I bet you wouldn't have lasted that long."
She arched an eyebrow. "How much you wanna bet on it?"
Luke laughed. They dragged the sled back up to where Ben and Vina were standing and told them of the challenge. The rest of the morning was spent trying to find out who could stay upright in the sled the longest as it sped down the slippery white surface. Em and Ben made sure to cast the appropriate safety charms, before conjuring up a stopwatch and the competition was on. They were having so much fun that their mother had to come outside to get their attention when it was time for lunch.
"What's the score, Ben?" Em asked breathlessly, her hair windswept and covered with bits of snow.
Her brother pushed up his glasses and peered at the stopwatch. "Okay, final results. The least time spent upright on the moving sled: Vina, 45 seconds."
"Aww, shucks!" Vina exclaimed, blushing but her eyes were laughing.
Ben continued. "I had the next lowest score: 65 seconds. Then Budget: 70 seconds. And the winner is Em, with 75 seconds."
"Ah-ha!" Em cried, turning around to point both index fingers at her emerald-eyed brother. "In yo' face, buddy! You owe me ten Galleons."
Luke stuck his tongue out at her as they followed their mother back into the house. They removed their coats, caps, gloves and scarves and eagerly took their places around the table. They would all be going to the Burrow for the real Christmas dinner later that day, so this was just to tide them over until then. In the center of the table was a large bowl of hot, rich and flavorful minestrone soup, with crusty, buttered rolls and ice-cold pumpkin juice on the side. A large pumpkin pie with thick whipped cream waited on the counter for their coming attention.
"And then Budget bet Em that she couldn't last longer," Vina was explaining to their father, who was looking amused. "But she did."
"Only by five bloody seconds," Luke mumbled under his breath, but Em heard him.
"What was that, Budget?" she asked sweetly.
He looked up innocently. "I said, yeah, you won."
"I'm sure you did," she said sarcastically.
"I did, Em."
"I heard you, Budget."
"Yes, Em."
"Oh, shut up."
"I will, Em."
"Not another word, Budget!"
"No, Em."
"I said shut up."
"All right, Em."
"That's the end of it, Budget. Don't try me."
"I won't, Em."
"God, you are so annoying!"
"Yes, Em."
"Oh, all right! Take the last word. Take it, take it."
"I will, Em."
By that time, everybody else was laughing into their bowls of soup and Vina, for one, was so consumed that she snorted pumpkin juice out her nose. Emerson looked at Budget and the two of them started cracking up as well. Needless to say, it was a long time before the table calmed down, but once they did, they tucked into the meal with gusto. Conversation flowed freely and easily, and once the last of the pumpkin pie had disappeared, they leaned back in their chairs and sighed in contentment.
"Excellent nosh, Mum," Ben murmured, leaning over to peck their mother on the cheek.
"Yeah, Mum," Luke chimed in. He stood up and walked around to kiss her other cheek.
Their mother smiled, even as her eyes shone with tears when Em and Vina went over to kiss her, too.
"Love you, Mum."
"Love you, too," she said, hugging them both.
Their father stood up. "All right, my turn to kiss the cook."
"Eww," Vina said, wrinkling her nose as their parents kissed, while Emerson laughed and her brothers pretended not to notice.
Not so long ago, her reaction would've been exactly like her baby sister's, but Em knew better now. And having been blessed enough to know and experience a love very similar to that which still buoyed her parents, she could only hope that one day her siblings would be equally blessed. Because there was nothing quite like being in love, nothing like having someone whom you could trust with your whole self, and be secure in the knowledge that you were similarly trusted in return.
As thoughts of Brandon filled her mind, Emerson found herself on the verge of tears. She loved him so much; just thinking about him flooded her with joy. And she missed him terribly, having not seen him in more than a day. They'd spent almost every night together since she'd been home for the holidays, but for the first time in years, his family had gone somewhere else for Christmas and wouldn't be back until the next day.
Trying not to think about the fact that she would be spending Christmas night without the love of her life, Emerson focused her attention on her family, and once they'd arrived at the Burrow, being distracted was made even easier. The Weasley clan was loud and enormous, which meant that there was no shortage of people to chat and laugh with. They all gorged themselves silly at the Christmas feast and Em felt like she wouldn't need to eat again for a year, at least.
"Man, I feel quite ready to hibernate," she murmured, grunting as she collapsed onto the suede couch in Ballynore's family room. They'd just returned home and she was completely knackered.
Davina plopped down beside her and rested her head on Em's shoulder. Em hugged her and closed her eyes, preparing to take a little kip. Mum was curled up in an armchair with the leather-bound book that Dad had given her, while Ben, Luke and their father sat in a huddle on the carpet, examining Ben's new Palm Pilot. It was just after ten o'clock, and Christmas Day seemed to be drawing to a very peaceful close. Emerson sighed and shifted slightly on the couch, trying not to disturb her sister but just then, the Ballynore arrival chimes began to ring and she jerked.
Everybody looked up, and Em frowned. "Are we expecting anyone?"
Her parents exchanged a look, while her brothers frowned. Footsteps came steadily closer and Em's heart was pounding. She knew it was not very likely but she was hoping, hoping-
"Brandon!"
She wasn't aware of moving but the next second she was in his arms and he was holding her so tightly that her feet left the floor. Her whole body was screaming with happiness as she clung to him and she felt like laughing like a madwoman.
"Oh, Brandon, oh, Brandon," she kept saying over and over.
He chuckled, then pulled away. His dark eyes were twinkling with amusement. "I take it you're surprised."
"I am so surprised!" she cried, beaming up at him. "What're you doing here?"
He adopted an affronted look. "What, you seriously thought I would let Christmas pass without seeing my girl?"
"Aww," chorused Ben and Luke from the floor, clutching their chests.
Em made a face at them before turning adoring eyes back to her boyfriend, who smiled. Leaning forward, he whispered, "Wanna get out of here?"
"Yes, please," she responded eagerly, feeling herself blushing.
He pulled away and looked up. "We're heading out-" he began, but was drowned out by wolf whistles and catcalls from Budget, who kept nudging Ben and giving him knowing looks. Ben laughed and Brandon seemed to be trying not to do the same.
Emerson rolled her eyes and went to hug her mother. "See you tomorrow, Mum."
"Okay," Mum said, kissing her on the cheek. When Em began to pull away, her mother held on and squeezed her tightly for another moment before finally letting go. "I love you."
Em smiled at her. "I love you, too." Walking back to the couch, she hugged her sister before turning to her father, who had stood up and was shaking Brandon's hand. "Good night, Dad."
"Good night," he said, sounding strangely choked up as he held her close. Feeling slightly concerned, she pulled away and peered up at him. He touched her cheek and smiled. "You'll always be my Moppet, won't you?"
Her brow furrowed at the strangeness of the question, and she gave him a bewildered look. "Of course, I will, Daddy."
Brandon had straightened up from hugging her Mum and now he took her hand. "Happy Christmas," he said to the room at large. "Good night."
He led her from the room and Emerson felt quite strange and emotional, as if she were leaving something that she would never really have again. She found herself looking back, but for what? Brandon didn't seem to notice her hesitation and when they reached the foyer, he pulled her close and kissed her.
And just like that, everything else in her mind, every other emotion melted away and was replaced by him. Only him. He filled her up to the very brim and then some, his lips now gentle, now firm, his tongue caressing hers, exploring her mouth, satisfying but, yet, increasing a hunger that had been lying dormant until he'd awoken it.
Gasping, she broke the kiss and he molded her body against him, his hands slipping into the back pockets of her jeans to caress her bum. Emerson moaned softly, and he pulled away.
He helped her shrug into her cloak and then, reaching into a pocket of his, he pulled out a large brass key. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice low and quiet.
Where had she heard that question before? And when? She looked up at him searchingly and after a minute, she remembered. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "Oh my- Lake Louise?"
Brandon didn't answer, only held out the key, but the smile on his face was confirmation enough.
"Oh my gosh! This is so awesome! I wonder what it looks like, all covered in snow-"
Her words were cut off when the Portkey activated and within minutes, she didn't have to wonder anymore because she could see for herself what the beautiful lake looked like all covered in snow. It was night, but some kind of luminous glow seemed to be coming from the twin peaks that bordered the frozen lake, lending an almost ethereal air to the whole thing. Emerson stood transfixed on the porch of the wooden cabin, her harsh, excited breaths misting white before her in the cold air.
"It's beautiful, it's so beautiful..."
"It'll look even better in the light of day," Brandon said, his arms wrapping around her from behind. "Trust me."
Turning around in his embrace, she looked up at him. "I trust you."
He kissed her and once again, everything was driven from her mind, even the rapture of being back at the place where they'd rediscovered each other. Emerson felt almost as if she were a spirit, outside of her body and observing it all as they went into the cabin. It was deliciously warm and as cozy as she remembered, with a hearty blaze that was crackling merrily in the fireplace. She watched Brandon lower her to the bearskin rug on the hearth, undressing her as she undressed him, listening to their quickened breathing, their sighs of bliss when a familiar spot was revisited. She watched them pleasure each other with lips and hands, listened to the moans, the cries, felt the very air tremble with ecstasy when she shattered on his mouth.
Surely what she was experiencing was too much. Surely she would die from what he was doing to her, her voice rising with passion to the rafters of the small cabin as he took her again and again, but no, she wasn't calling for him to cease and desist. She was sobbing, crying, screaming, begging... please, don't stop, don't ever stop, I love you... I love you...
"I love you," he whispered, breathing hard as he held her trembling body close.
They were both covered with sweat and boneless and it took Emerson a while to come back to herself. The whole time, Brandon held her, smoothing her long, tangled hair, kissing her damp forehead, her shoulder. She shivered and he Summoned one of the knitted throws from the couch, and they snuggled together under it.
For a long time, neither of them spoke, content to hold each other and stare at the dancing shadows on the walls that were caused by the flames flickering in the fireplace. Emerson's whole being hummed with contentment and she sighed as she trailed a hand along his muscular arm. Her head rested on his other outstretched arm, and she felt supremely safe and cocooned.
A question occurred to her suddenly and she leaned her head back so she could see his face. "Brandon, how comes I always lose it first when we... um... you know..." Her voice trailed off as she gestured with her hands.
He arched his eyebrows in bewildered innocence. "When we what?"
"Oh, you know... when we," she stammered and blushed. "When we do that inverted thing."
"What inverted thing?"
Em glared at him. "You know what I mean. That inverted, sixty-nine thing."
"Ah, yes, that... OW!" Grinning, he rubbed the spot where she'd playfully pinched him, before adopting a smug look. "How comes you always lose it first? Why, because I'm very good at what I do, of course."
"And I'm not?"
He laughed and leaned over to kiss her. "You, my love, are spectacular. But to answer your question honestly, it's because women are lucky that way."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, your gender has that awesome ability to have multiple orgasms in very quick succession. Whereas blokes need a little time to, ahem, resurrect the little man again." He smiled into her eyes. "While I love your mouth, nothing beats being inside you, so I always try to get you off before you can get me off, and that way I can enter my heaven and home without having to wait for the little man to come back."
Emerson blushed at his candor. "Oh."
He chuckled and she rested her head on his arm again. He dropped another kiss on her bare shoulder and she sighed, feeling so happy that she couldn't remove the smile from her face. Not that she was really trying or anything. His lips began to wander to that maddening junction of her shoulder and neck and she held herself still and tried not to squirm at the delicious sensations. Her eyes fluttered shut when he moved up her neck and along her jawline before he gave her cheek a loud, smacking kiss.
She giggled and he repeated the action, then moved on to her earlobe. He nibbled it gently with his teeth and his warm breath in her ear made her shiver. Emerson kept her eyes closed, losing herself so much in his gentle caresses that it took her a full minute to realize that he was whispering something.
"Hmm?" she said, trying to move her head back to look at him.
But he held her head in place and put his lips close to her ear. "Trouw mij."
"Huh?"
"Heiraten Sie mich."
She frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means Cáseme."
She smiled. "Cáseme? What is that, Spanish? I don't speak Spanish, sorry."
He pulled away and laid his head beside hers, their lips only inches apart. "Épousez-moi."
"No fair!" she said, laughing. "You're changing the languages up on me!"
His dark eyes twinkled for a moment before turning so serious that her breath died in her lungs. And then suddenly, even though she didn't speak any of those languages he'd been murmuring, she understood exactly what he'd been saying. He must have sensed her epiphany because he reached out and touched her cheek.
"Marry me."
Emerson gasped, her wide eyes filling up as she stared at him.
"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice soft and rich with emotion.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as her mouth worked and she tried to answer him. She wanted to scream, to laugh, shout, something, but all she could do was sob. She wanted to tell him; why was she crying? God, she was so stupid! Oh God, she was so happy!
Brandon cupped her cheek, wiping her tears away with his thumb and she began to nod. It took her another minute but at last, she got the word out.
"Yes." He hugged her fiercely and she clung to him, laughing now. "Sí, Brandon. Oui."
He laughed with her and she pulled away, beaming as she looked into his eyes.
"Yes."
They held each other tightly, floating on the joy, the terror and dizzying excitement that wrapped around them, making their hearts pound and their heads feel lighter than air. Their lips met and began to express the language that could be understood anywhere, on any tongue, fluently. Love, in any language, is the same everywhere and no translator was needed for what they were saying. They understood each other perfectly, knowing that a cry like this from her, a moan like that from him meant, "I need you". It meant, "I want you".
It meant, "I love you." For always and forever.
***********
End Notes:
1. Well, there ya go. There will be an epilogue and this is finis. Not sure when the epilogue will be up; I'm
having a bit of a block with writing it. But I'll try to have it done very soon.
2. The section where Em and Budget do that bickering ("Shut up, Budget". "Yes, Em." ..."I will, Em") is modeled after a similar passage in Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt. That is such a fantastic read, and I heartily recommend it (and its sequel, 'Tis).
3. The line where Brandon says "Open your pretty green eyes and look the hell around" is based on a similar line in the movie "Save The Last Dance".
4. The line where Budget says his head hurts and Em replies "That's your brain trying to comprehend your stupidity" is from the t.v. sitcom, "That 70's Show".
5. My beta pointed out that it takes a certain level of skill or training to be able to do the Obliviate charm, and it's doubtful that Kady is powerful enough to cast it (and select which memories to erase) and I kind of agree. But I was too lazy to change that up. So if anybody has any such doubts, please know that I have them, too, if that's any consolation. :)
6. What Brandon was saying to Em ("Trouw mij", "Heiraten Sie mich", "Cáseme", "Épousez-moi") all mean the same thing: "Marry me", but in Dutch, German, Spanish and French, respectively.
7. Only 37 days to go till Half-Blood Prince, whoohoo!