Writing To Reach You

weird4hanson

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 19/04/2005
Last Updated: 16/06/2005
Status: completed

"Safe in Harbor/Above It All" Futurefic. This is the story of Emerson Potter, twenty-one year old daughter of Harry and Hermione. It explores two years in her life as she falls in love with the last person she expected to, while pursuing the dream of her life. The whole gang is back: Ben, Budget and Vina, (plus Harry and Hermione, of course) but the focus is on Emerson. Come read along!

Chapters

1. I

2. II

3. III

4. IV

5. V

6. VI

7. VII

8. VIII

9. IX

10. X

11. XI

12. XII

13. XIII

14. XIV

15. XV

16. XVI

17. XVII

18. XVIII

19. XIX

20. XX

21. Epilogue

1. I

Author's Notes: Well, here is the first piece of a one-shot futurefic that I promised to readers of my "Safe in Harbor" universe. To anyone who hasn't read that fic, its outtake "Rubber Chickens and Cake" and especially its sequel "Above It All", what I'll be posting will make absolutely ZERO sense. Anyway, as usual with me, what was supposed to be a little ficlet has swelled to much more than I intended. Which is both annoying and reassuring at the same time. I intend to post installments every few days. Reviews are very welcome. Thanks to all those who have waited so patiently and hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter universe and characters are property of JKR and all those other lucky bastards who own assorted bits and pieces. Any characters that you don't recognize from canon, however, are mine. Additional disclaimers/references are posted at the end. Many thanks to Lissanne for the beta and constant encouragement, and also to hogwartshag for advice and encouragement.

Writing To Reach You

"Do you think the boys are already there?" Emerson Potter asked her best friend as the two of them hurried down the slightly crowded cobbled streets of Diagon Alley.

It was a hot, dry day in mid-August and the two women were heading to The Leaky Cauldron to meet their lunch mates. It was a weekly tradition they had, to meet up once a week for a midday meal at the old pub. The women were running a bit late today, though, having gotten distracted by a new shipment of utterly chic robes in Madam Malkin's.

Carolyna Lupin smiled, her honey eyes shining with anticipation. "Probably. You know how early they always skive off work. Nothing gets between them and their food. At least, not for long."

"Or in Davis's case, nothing gets between him and his Lyna," Em commented, eyeing her friend. "Right?"

She laughed at the blush that crept up her best friend's cheeks, knowing that there was no way Lyna could deny what she'd just said. The women had always been extremely close and even now, four years after Hogwarts, they were as tight as ever. Even with their very busy lives since leaving school, they made a point to talk every day and meet up several times a week, depending on their schedules.

At twenty-one years of age, Emerson Potter was beautiful and healthy. She was about five foot seven, with smooth olive skin, long ebony hair and bright green eyes. She had a ready smile, an easy laugh and a tenacious amount of energy. She had her whole life ahead of her, and as with any other person, she hoped it would be a long one. There was so much she wanted to do, so many dreams to aspire for. Yet, sometimes she found herself thinking that she had experienced more in those short years of her existence than most people got the chance to in their entire lives.

When Emerson thought about her life, she marveled at her blessings. She had grown up in a warm and loving family, with her parents, two brothers and a little sister. She'd been a good student at Hogwarts, consistently ranking in the top five percent of her year. Beginning in her fourth year, she'd played the spot of Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and in her final year had been awarded the Captaincy. That had been one of the proudest moments of her life, and the sweetest thing about it was that she knew she had accomplished it all on her own. The fact that she was Harry Potter's daughter had had absolutely nothing to do with it, contrary to what bitter rivals had murmured. She had always been determined to never live life coasting on her famous parents' names, and had been determined to earn her own way.

But there was more to her than Quidditch, however. The knowledge sometimes caused raised eyebrows, in both admiration and bewilderment, that, for all professional intents and purposes, Emerson Potter was a fully trained and certified Magical Zoologist. Which was more or less the equivalent of a Muggle veterinarian. The realization that that was what she wanted to do with her life had come upon her startlingly one night in her fifth year, shortly after her class had begun examining the career brochures laid out for their perusal. Em had always loved animals, magical or otherwise, but until that night it had never occurred to her to pursue that fondness as a career. But as soon as she'd had the thought, she'd known it was exactly what she wanted to do.

Most people were initially surprised by the fact that she was studying such a scientific field. They just didn't have her pegged as the academic type, figuring that if anyone would be juggling big name classes it would be her brother, Ben. But as Emerson liked to say, next to Ben, everybody looked like a dunce. Just because she wasn't anywhere near his level of genius didn't mean that she didn't enjoy learning, especially if it was something she was truly passionate about. And this most certainly was one of those things.

Her mother had helped her with the decisions as to where to go for that training, and Em had decided on Excalibur Wizarding University, one of her Mum's alma maters, which had the best Magi-Zoology department on the continent. But the summer after graduation from Hogwarts, to celebrate the milestone, Em and Lyna had taken a trip to the United States. Among the places they'd visited was Berkshire Academy, where Emerson's birth mother, Julia Thomas, had been a student.

Coincidentally, not far from Berkshire was the prestigious Muggle university, Harvard, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. On a whim, the girls decided to go on a tour of the campus, and Em was entranced. Had it been the crisp, sweet air of the late summer's evening? Had it been the noble venerability of the old buildings, standing proud and steadfast even after hundreds of years? Had it been the people, hurrying to and fro, yet swift to give a quick smile as they swept along in their quest for learning? She would never know what it was, but something about the school stirred Emerson and she fell madly in love. She vowed right there and then that she would attend Harvard if it was the last thing she ever did.

And she swore that she wouldn't consider herself a real Magical Zoologist, Veterinarian, Healer, until she had her Harvard degree.

But there had been no time to undergo the proper admissions procedures. So that dream had needed to be placed on the back burner for a time, and she'd gone through with her first choice. Excalibur's Magi-Zoology program was very intensive, but fueled by her vision of attending Harvard, Emerson had completed the four-year program in just over three years.

And to make her achievement even sweeter, her acceptance letter from Harvard's School of Veterinary Medicine had arrived the day after her graduation from Excalibur.

That was six weeks ago, and at the end of this month, Em would be leaving her family and friends to attend the prestigious school. She knew that she didn't need the Harvard degree to be a Magical Zoologist, but she had convinced herself that she needed the veterinarian education, to be truly well-rounded. After all, Muggle animals needed care too. And besides, what was life without dreams? And weren't dreams meant to come true, if one worked hard enough for them?

She would be gone for two years and she knew it would be very hard being away from those she loved most in the world. But in the meantime, she could spend as much time with them as possible, with her family and her friends. Which was how comes she and Lyna were hurrying to the Leaky Cauldron, heading for a meal with-

"Finally," somebody said in exasperation, startling her out of her reverie. Looking up, she smiled at the speaker.

"Hi, Brandon. Hey, Davis."

Davis Chapman didn't seem to hear her but Brandon Wood scoffed. "What is it with women and being on time? Or shouldn't I say, not being on time? We were just about to go looking for you two."

"Quit your whinging," she replied with a chuckle, reaching for the grimy handle of the Leaky Cauldron's back door. "You're just mad about having to wait for your food."

He followed her inside the dimly lit pub, still grumbling. "I'm a hard-working man. Is it too much to ask for to want to start my lunch hour at the appointed time of twelve, noon?"

Em laughed. "Whatever. Twelve, noon, my backside. You routinely leave work long before twelve, boy-o, and don't try to deny it."

He didn't, only shot her a disgruntled look as they arrived at their regular table in one of the far corners of the pub. Emerson shrugged out of her jacket and sat down, then looked around for her best friend. "Where's Lyna?"

"Probably still outside with Chapman, feeling each other up, isn't she?" Brandon replied, jerking his shaggy head towards the door, where sure enough, Davis and Lyna were just now coming in, Lyna attempting to furtively smooth her blouse.

Em grinned. She so loved how mad those two were about each other. Of course they'd always been more or less like that, but something about being newlyweds seemed to bring out their inner gluttons. They couldn't seem to get enough of each other, even after how long they'd been together.

Which was very reassuring, after the fright they'd both given everyone.

Davis and Lyna had been an official couple ever since she was a fourth year and he was a sixth. They'd dated all through Hogwarts, and the relationship had turned progressively more and more serious as the years went by. Everybody expected them to get married sooner or later, including Carolyna herself, Em knew. It was just a matter of when Davis would pop the question.

So imagine what a devastating shock it had been when late last year, out of the blue, Davis broke up with Lyna. Lyna had managed to hold herself together long enough to Apparate to Emerson's flat, where she'd promptly gone into hysterics. She'd been crying so hard that Em had feared she would choke, and it was only after giving Lyna a powerful calming tea that Em had been able to find out what had happened.

Apparently, Davis had just dropped it on her that he thought they should see other people. She'd asked if he was breaking up with her and he'd said no, yes, I don't know. It was just that they'd been together since they were practically kids and how could they be sure that this was the right thing if they'd never had any other dating experience? That he didn't want to hurt her but he needed to see what else was out there and he hoped she understood.

"How could he do this to me?" Lyna had sobbed into Emerson's shoulder. "I loved him. Oh God, I love him so much!"

Emerson had been seething, even as she tried to hold back her own tears at the pain that her friend was in. She needed to be strong for Lyna, and somehow she'd managed to comfort her heartbroken friend and get her to sleep after a strong dose of Sleeping Draught.

Then, her rage consuming her, she'd Apparated to Davis's flat and rung his doorbell. The instant he opened the door, Emerson had slapped him across the face with all the force she could muster. As he'd staggered backwards in shock, she had gotten right in his face, shouting for the entire hallway to hear that he was a stinking, yellow-livered, chickenshit bastard, among the more printable labels.

"That girl," Em had said, trembling with fury, tears streaming down her cheeks now, "was the best thing to ever happen to your stupid arse, and if this is how you treat her, you don't deserve her. But she loves you. She loves you, Davis, and you had better be prepared to crawl on your hands and knees and beg her forgiveness! I don't care if it's through pouring hail or burning coals, you will crawl to her, you will kiss her feet. Because, and you know this is true, you will regret what you've done. You will want her back. And because she loves you, she will take you back. And I swear to God, Davis, if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you. I will kill you."

He had looked at her with his startlingly dark eyes, the imprint of her hand gleaming scarlet across his pale cheek. "I believe you."

"Good," she'd said, and she'd spun around and strode away, ignoring all the curious faces that were poking out of open doorways to peer at her.

Watching the couple now as they sat side by side, practically on each other's laps, Emerson couldn't help but smile. There was something so reassuring about them, something that made her believe that there was hope for the other people in the world who were still searching for that special someone. Part of the reason why Davis and Lyna's breakup had shocked her so much was because she'd come to view them almost as an absolute. Almost like the relationship between her own parents. It was like, if Davis and Lyna couldn't last, what chance in hell did anybody else have? What chance did she have?

She had been very distressed upon leaving Davis's flat. Once in a properly secluded spot, she'd gathered herself and Disapparated and it was only when Brandon's voice reached her that she realized that she'd unconsciously Apparated to his place. But instantly, she'd known that she couldn't have gone to a better person. If anybody could understand, it would be Brandon. She couldn't go to her parents, not with this, and certainly not to Lyna's parents. Uncle Remus and Aunt Tonks would probably overreact, while Lyna and her sister, Annamaria, had never been particularly close.

And somehow, the thought of going to her then-boyfriend for this comfort didn't cross Emerson's mind at all.

But Brandon... he knew all parties concerned and could really get why Lyna's pain upset Em so much. She had cried in his arms and ranted some more, and he'd patted her back and listened, like the friend that he was; like the friend that she'd needed at that moment.

Both men worked at the Ministry of Magic and over the next few days, Brandon would tell Em about how horrible Davis was looking. Em had scoffed and said it served him damn right, it was his own fault, and it was surely nothing to how Lyna was suffering. The poor girl could barely leave her bed without dissolving into tears and hadn't eaten properly in days.

Just as Em had predicted, within a week of the breakup, Davis was owling Lyna, saying how sorry he was and begging to see her. Her pride wounded, Lyna had held out for a full week before she gave in, and they'd made up nauseatingly quickly. Davis had explained that he'd just been terrified by the depth of his love for her and he wanted to be with her for the rest of his life and how could he feel so strongly about one woman, he was only twenty-three, but he was just such a fucking idiot and could she please, please forgive him and would she marry him?

Of course Lyna had said yes and they'd eloped on Valentine's Day, to the consternation of both their families. Aunt Tonks, in particular, had been very disappointed. She'd been secretly planning Davis and Lyna's wedding for years.

"So you'll never believe what old Warezell said today," Brandon was saying, his brown eyes twinkling.

Em smiled as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice. Brandon worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports as a liaison between all the international Quidditch teams. It was the perfect job for him, incorporating his love of the game, as well as for travel and his fluency in multiple languages. Em knew he loved his work, but his boss, Timon Warezell, was quite something else. Warezell was this very old warlock who seemed to mix up words more and more as time went by, making for some hilarious anecdotes.

"What'd he say this time?" she asked.

Brandon was already laughing at the memory. "Well, you know we're having this problem with those folks from the former Eastern Bloc? They keep sending us these long letters written in their native languages, even though they all read and write English well enough. Anyway, there's this particular letter that we were expecting from Romania, and it was a very important one, too.

"So the letter arrived and Warezell opened it. Immediately he started swearing and brandishing the parchment around, cause of course the Romanians had written it in their language. He started threatening them, and we're all sitting there feeling slightly alarmed, cause he looked pretty damn ticked off. And then he said-" Here Brandon adopted a deep, croaky voice, an eerily accurate imitation of an old man. "He said, 'That does it! They've misunderestimated me for the last time!'"

The table exploded in gleeful laughter, setting a rollicking tone for the rest of the hour.

"Well, at least he only speaks one language," Em commented, giggling. "If it were you, Brandon, for instance, you'd be mixing up several tongues in one sentence."

Davis snorted. "Or Klingon."

Em had a Muggle entertainment center at her flat and the four of them, as well as assorted other friends, had spent many a Saturday night drinking beer and guffawing over the Monty Python and Star Trek collections that her Grandpa Granger had gifted her. Brandon, in particular, had really enjoyed the timeless BBC comedy.

"No, make that the Gumby language from Monty Python," he said now, laughing. He sat up straighter, looking harried all of a sudden. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise, surprise and fear, fear and surprise. Our two weapons are fear and surprise and ruthless efficiency!"

Emerson laughed so hard that she snorted pumpkin juice out her nose, which cracked them all up even more. The four friends laughed and chattered in easy companionship as they ate their meals, Davis and Lyna occasionally feeding each other, and Em found herself thinking how lucky she was to still be so close to these people. The past few years hadn't made it easy to maintain these connections, what with her being at school, Brandon and Davis working at the Ministry and Lyna teaching at Woodlands.

While she did, of course, have many friends at Uni, there was just something about retaining old friendships. Something comforting, almost nostalgic, because these were the people she'd grown up with, the ones who knew her best. Especially Lyna.

And even Brandon, she thought, watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed at something Lyna was saying. Far from the boy who had once thoroughly annoyed her, he was now one of her closest friends. They hung out together quite often, going to Quidditch games, and he was her jogging partner as well.

Emerson found herself wondering what it was about him that made her feel so comfortable. Maybe it was because he was always so dependable; he just seemed to always be available to her. With his lean six foot two frame, thick, brown hair that he'd taken to wearing in a longish, shaggy style, and brown eyes, he fit the definition of "tall, dark and handsome" quite well. He had a strong, straight nose and a well-shaped mouth that was almost always curved in some semblance of a smile or grin, mischievous or otherwise. He was good-looking, athletic and funny.

He is, isn't he? So how come he doesn't have a girlfriend?

Em frowned at the thought. She was always trying to set him up but he'd never really answered that particular question whenever she'd asked. Oh he dated, sure, but rarely more than three times with any one person and she knew it wasn't the women. He'd dated friends of hers who'd told her that he was the one who'd broken it off. How could that be? He was usually so open; at least with her, anyway. She always felt like she could share anything with him, just as she could with Lyna. He could make her laugh, even when it was the last thing she wanted to do, and she was just so happy that they'd become friends. He was a good one to have. So why-

"Hey, Em, ever heard of the band, Phantom Planet?"

She looked over at him. The two of them shared a deep musical appreciation, with very similar tastes, and as a result were always swapping albums. "Yeah, I think so. Why?"

"There's this album of theirs I'm looking for, but I haven't been able to find anywhere," he said, spearing a piece of pie with his fork. "It's called The Guest, and for some reason, nowhere I've looked has it, even though they have all the other Phantom Planet albums."

"I'll keep an eye out for it," she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "They're an American band, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll be over there in a few weeks for school, anyway." She paused. "I still can't believe I'm going to Harvard."

There was a sudden silence around the table for a minute before Lyna reached over and squeezed Emerson's hand. "But this is your dream come true, isn't it?"

Em nodded, feeling her eyes prickling. "Yes, it is. But I don't want to leave you lot!" The men were staring at their plates, while Lyna looked on the verge of tears and Em suddenly didn't want ruin their lunch by being somber. Wiping her eyes, she took a deep breath and turned to Brandon. "Hey, you still have my Bob Marley Legend disc, don't ya?"

He adopted an innocent look, though his eyes were oddly blank. "I don't think so, no. You lost it?"

"I haven't lost it, you thief. I lent it to you. And I want it back."

He grinned lopsidedly. "Fine."

When they'd all finished their slices of apple pie and leaned back contentedly in their chairs, Davis glanced at his watch and grimaced. "Shit. The hour's up already."

"Already?" Lyna pouted, snuggling up to her husband, who put his arm around her and kissed her forehead. "I don't want you to go."

Davis looked adoringly into her eyes. "I don't want to go, either. But only about four more hours and then I can come home, okay?"

"Four hours. That gives me some time to get ready, then."

"For what?" the ash-blond wizard asked, sounding eager.

Lyna gave him a coy smile. "That's for me to know and you to find out, isn't it, Mr. Chapman?"

"Right you are, Mrs. Chapman," Davis responded, leaning in to kiss her.

Brandon rolled his eyes and stood up. "For God's sake."

Em grinned, elbowing him. "Isn't it sweet? Young love." At his irritated look, her grin widened. "Aww. Is poor Odie jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," he snapped, frowning at her, and something in his eyes made her look closer but it vanished before she could decipher what it was. He looked away. "Let's go, loverboy."

Davis and Lyna disentangled themselves reluctantly and stood up. Brandon laid some money on the table and strode away; Em watched him go, feeling startled. Was it something she'd said? What was it that she'd seen in his eyes? She worried her bottom lip as she waited for her best friend to leave off nuzzling Davis, then waved a distracted goodbye to him and Brandon, who had already walked away.

The two young women walked in silence for a moment, Lyna with a blissful smile on her face and Emerson with a frown. Now that she thought about it, Brandon always seemed irritated when Davis and Lyna displayed affection, which made no sense. Why should it bother him? The Chapmans (it still felt weird to Em to think of Lyna as a Chapman!) were married, and newlyweds, at that. It was natural for them to want to express their love all the time.

The four of them had always gotten along very well, and Brandon didn't seem to have a problem with Davis. It was only when-

Em's frown deepened at the thought that suddenly occurred to her, and she had to consciously will herself not to stop dead on the sidewalk. Could it be that Brandon had feelings for Lyna? Could that be why he was always scowling whenever the four of them got together and Davis and Lyna would get all cuddly and kissy? Could that be why he never allowed himself to date any one person long enough to establish a relationship?

"What're you thinking about?" Lyna asked suddenly, startling Em from her thoughts.

She adopted a nonchalant expression before looking over at her friend. "Uh, what?"

Lyna's eyes softened and she touched Em's arm. "How're you? I've been meaning to ask but keep getting distracted. But with, y'know, your impending move and on top of that, you and Jack breaking up. You all right?"

Em shrugged. "Sure. I'm fine. That was a good two months ago, anyway."

She hardly thought about Jack Crenshaw these days, even though they'd dated on and off for almost two years. They'd met at Excalibur, and he'd quickly charmed her. He was model-worthy gorgeous and lots of fun. Everybody kept telling her how good they looked together, and although he'd dropped out of Uni to pursue a modeling career, they'd stayed together. For a time, she'd even wondered if they wouldn't end up getting married, though the thought always made her vaguely uneasy and would always be quickly banished. They'd dated on and off through her three years at Excalibur, but just before graduation, Emerson had really examined herself and realized that her relationship with Jack wasn't working for her, not anymore. The breakup had been rather difficult because Jack hadn't wanted to let her go, making it more painful for them both.

"Yeah, but still," Lyna said, looking worried. "You two were pretty hot and heavy. Something like that doesn't go away that quickly."

"I'm fine, Lyna," Emerson replied. "Really."

Her friend still looked skeptical, but how could Em explain? She didn't miss Jack. She hadn't loved him, she realized now, and maybe she hadn't really known him all that well either. He was always traveling, on one modeling assignment or the other, and although she'd gone with him to a few locations, most of the time they were only together on weekends. Hell, she'd spent more time with her Uni friends, Lyna and Brandon than she'd spent with her own boyfriend.

Apparently giving Em up for a lost cause, Lyna changed the subject. "Have you gotten a gift for Marc and Marissa yet? Their birthday party's tomorrow."

"Yeah, I found this really cool vintage clothing store on the West End near my flat that I think Mari will like," Em replied, relieved for the change of topic. "I got her a gift certificate. And Marc? Well, anything with alcohol in it will do, right?"

They both laughed. Marc Weasley was notorious for his love of alcoholic beverages of all kinds, and he had a very high threshold as well. The Weasley twins' parties were always rousing fun, and Em was looking forward to the bash to be held the next day. It would be a good time to say goodbye to any far-flung friends as well, before she left for Boston in two weeks' time.

"-still need to pick up something," Lyna was saying.

Em nodded distractedly, having spied a dusty, old record store tucked away between a dry cleaner's and a coffee shop. She grabbed her friend's hand. "Let's go in here."

"Why?"

"I thought I'd look for that album Brandon was talking about," she said. "It sounded like he really wanted it."

And I really want to find it for him.

The thought startled her and Emerson wondered why she suddenly felt like the disc, if she could find it, would be a peace offering of sorts. She hadn't done anything wrong. Had she? She'd just been teasing him, in that same old good-natured way that they both teased each other all the time. Why had he reacted that way, and why did the thought that she might have upset him bother her so much? Perhaps because they were such good friends but, for that same reason, it shouldn't be weighing on her as much as it was. With as close a friendship as the one between her and Brandon, surely a minor misunderstanding wouldn't threaten the entire substance of what they had.

Could he really have feelings for Lyna, and why did that thought make her so uneasy?

She just needed to talk to him, that's all. She would ask him and he would answer. They could tell each other anything, and she didn't want anything to ruin what little time she had left with her friends. Really, they could talk about anything. Couldn't they?

******

If asked to pinpoint the exact moment in time that he'd fallen in love with her, he knew he would never be able to dredge up a memory. But strangely, he remembered when it was that he knew beyond a shadow of any doubt that he was completely, hopelessly, irreversibly in love with her. He must have been falling steadily, silently, obliviously all along until that second of startling epiphany.

He'd been in his final year at Hogwarts, Keeper and Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and she'd been a fourth year. She'd been on the team too, her first year as a Chaser. Though based on how well she played, if he hadn't known better he'd have sworn that she'd played the position a lot longer than that.

But the day, or rather the evening, that his eyes were opened once and for all, the team had just returned from one of his mandatory Quidditch practices. Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin that weekend and he was determined to get over that last, humiliating loss to the green and silver team. Not only that, but he had a legacy to uphold. Gryffindor had to win the Cup again this year - no ifs, ands or buts about it.

It was strange how he couldn't recall one word of the conversation he'd been having, or even who he'd been talking to, when he'd happened to look over at her. But he remembered that she'd been standing by the fireplace talking to her brother and maybe it was the firelight dancing on her long, jet black hair. Maybe it was the amusement in her stunning forest eyes as she'd listened to Ben. Perhaps it was the smudge of mud on her cheek, souvenir of the muddy pitch they'd just left?

Whatever the cause -- did it matter -- just like that, he knew. He loved her. Truly, utterly, madly. His eyes had widened at the realization and his heart had begun hammering frenetically against his sternum. A strange ringing erupted in his ears as he'd stared at her, and perhaps she'd felt his gaze because she suddenly looked up straight at him and smiled.

"Hey, Brandon! Good practice," she called.

He remembered having to swallow very hard before he could speak. "Yeah. You too, Em!"

And he'd lain awake in bed that night and cursed fate for its terrible timing.

He cursed fate for its lousy timing, still. That is, when he wasn't cursing himself for being a coward. He was pathetic, a twenty-four year old bloke, in love with the same girl for more than seven years and had yet to so much as give her a more-than-friendly peck on the cheek.

"Now, wait a minute, there. I have, that though," Brandon said aloud to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. "Aren't we forgetting Christmas of that year, at Hogwarts?"

"Um, no, seeing as how I wasn't there," his mirror replied snarkily.

Brandon scowled. "Shut it. I wasn't talking to you."

Why was he arguing with his mirror, anyway? He was already late for Marc and Marissa's birthday bash. Though, knowing the twins, the party wouldn't be kicking off until at least an hour after the printed start time. 'Fashionably late' was the Weasley twins' catch phrase.

But she was going to be there and he couldn't wait to see her, even though he'd seen her just yesterday for their weekly lunch with Davis and Carolyna. Which had ended on a rather sour note for him, but he didn't want to think about that right now.

He couldn't wait to hear her laughter, to greedily gulp the fragrance of her hair. To wish he had the guts to walk up to her and press his lips to hers and thus experience, for the second time in his life, what heaven surely felt like.

Because God knew the first time had been celestial.

The Gryffindor common room seemed to be even noisier and more crowded than usual as the annual House Christmas party entered its swinging stage. Perhaps it was because almost every resident of the house had invited someone from another house and almost every invitation had been accepted. Gryffindor was well-known for throwing spectacular bashes, after all.

Brandon was having a great time. There was plenty of good music, plenty of butterbeer (and some highly forbidden, hence highly coveted, firewhiskey). There were plenty of girls, giddy with the atmosphere of the event, to dance with and casually snog. He could do this without feeling guilty from the knowledge that he was in love with one girl, while snogging the others. And not only that, but he was also coming off a roller coaster relationship with Marissa Weasley, his longtime crush. Brandon had discovered, as countless teenagers had no doubt done over eons of human history, that the real thing doesn't always live up to the imagined version and the fresh air of singlehood was smelling very sweet, indeed. He was too confused emotionally to be any good to anybody right now, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun.

"Hey, Brandon!" called Eric Huckleberry, one of his dorm mates and his best friend. "We're almost out of you-know-what!"

Brandon pretended to be irritated. "Already? Merlin's bleeding balls, you lot have iron stomachs or something?"

"You're one to talk, Wood," retorted Eric loudly, slapping the taller boy on the back so hard that his bottle of butterbeer sloshed all down Brandon's front. "Bollocks! Sorry abou' that. Here, lemme-"

"Put your wand away, Huckle, for God's sake," Brandon said hastily, brushing at his soaked shirt. "For all I know, you're pissed enough to set me on fire with that drying charm."

"Oh feck off, you bloody tosser," Eric drawled drunkenly. "Fetch us some more spirits, there's a good lad."

Brandon chuckled as he pushed his way through the noisy, dancing throng, heading for his dorm room where he'd stashed the bottles of firewhiskey. Eric was mistaken, though, because butterbeer was the strongest substance Brandon had drunk tonight. He just didn't fancy being as sick as a dog in the morning.

He managed to make his way without getting too battered by the revelers, but just as he reached the stairs, he found his vision obscured by a fragrant mane of ebony hair and stopped short.

"Sorry!" laughed a female voice that he recognized. She spun around. "Oh, it's you."

Strangely, he found that the noisiness of the room seemed to have lessened dramatically all of a sudden. And although the room was thoroughly packed, suddenly he was aware of no one else but her and the way her eyes shone.

"Yeah, it's me," he managed, smiling back. "What're you up to?"

She adopted an innocent look that made his heart twitch in his chest. "What makes you think I'm up to something?"

He snorted. "Yeah, right. I don't think you even know how not to get in trouble."

"Really, Brandon. Such a low opinion of me," Emerson replied in a mock-wounded voice, clutching her chest. "No, I'm not up to anything. Just trying to escape Lyna. She doesn't like me teasing her about her lubby, wubby Davis."

He grinned at her. Em and Lyna were still the best of friends but ever since Lyna had begun dating that Ravenclaw bloke, Chapman, the two girls were always teasing each other. Though as far as he knew (and to his secret relief), Em didn't have a boyfriend. Which certainly wasn't for lack of interested males, that was for certain. The girl was gorgeous, and that opinion wasn't because he was biased.

"Anyway, did you puke on yourself or something?" she was asking.

"What? Oh, this. No, that idiot, Eric, made me spill butterbeer all over myself."

She laughed and Brandon felt something clench in his gut. Before he could think about it, though, she'd pulled her wand and muttered a drying charm.

"Thanks," he said softly, finding himself suddenly unable to look away from her.

She playfully wrinkled her nose at him. "Anytime. Oh, look! Floating mistletoe!"

Brandon glanced up and saw that, indeed, a sprig of mistletoe was hovering over both their heads. His mouth went abruptly dry, plunged into drought by the greediness of his hands, which were suddenly slick with sweat. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure she could hear it, even over the music echoing through the room. Tradition demanded that he kiss her and oh God, thank You! He'd been awaiting this opportunity for months, ever since that night after their Quidditch practice when he'd looked across the room at her and been given that terrifyingly wonderful epiphany.

But he couldn't do anything about it. Not then. He'd still been with Marissa at the time, and although the relationship had been in its death throes, he wasn't the kind of bloke to cheat. Even after he and Marissa had broken up, he didn't dare complicate his friendship with Emerson. It would be a mistake to broach the subject, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no indication that she thought of him as anything more than a friend, and he didn't think he wanted to risk putting his heart out there again so soon. Besides, he would be graduating in a few months and she was only fourteen. And he knew that the fact that he and Marissa were so far apart, she having already left Hogwarts, had been one of the main reasons for the demise of that relationship.

That was why he'd cursed fate and its lousy timing. But tonight, maybe fate was trying to make up for being a prick. Surely that was the reason for this blessed opportunity?

Feeling sweat prickling on his forehead, Brandon stared into the green eyes of the girl he'd known all her life, the girl he'd fallen in love with. She was gazing up at him, one eyebrow raised expectantly, apparently oblivious to his agonizing emotions.

Taking a deep breath, he decided that he would just peck her quickly on the lips and get away before he did something he would regret. He leaned forward slowly and the instant their lips met, he was lost. Every sound in the room was drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears. The tide invaded his brain and swept away every decision he'd previously made regarding his feelings for Emerson Potter.

He wasn't aware of placing his arms around her waist. He wasn't aware of pulling her flush against his body. The only thing that existed was her and her lips and her breath against his cheek. His tongue touched her lips lightly and he nearly groaned aloud when they parted without hesitation, granting him access. She tasted like candy canes and strawberry lip gloss and he kissed her as if she was the very breath of life and he was dying. His every sense was alive and screaming, but all too soon, oxygen became an issue and they had to pull apart.

Breathing hard through his nose, he opened his eyes. She was staring at him, looking stunned, her lips slightly parted and even fuller than usual. Their eyes met and he saw a great jumble of emotions in hers, chief of which was confusion.

Oh, shit. What had he done?

"Happy Christmas, Brandon!" came a voice from his left and suddenly he found himself in another set of female arms, being enthusiastically snogged. It took him a few seconds to realize what was happening and he pulled away as quickly as he could.

But when he turned around, Emerson was gone.

She'd never ever brought up the mistletoe incident and being the coward that he was, neither had he. Their friendship had continued on relatively normally and they'd become rather close friends. It was as if he'd unconsciously decided that if he couldn't be with her the way he wanted to be, he could at least be someone she could always trust and count on to be there for her.

She seemed to think he was. At any rate, over the years, she'd frequently come to him with sensitive subjects, like ranting about her boyfriends. And he'd listened as best he could, trying hard not tip her off as to how much it hurt. He hated every one of those men, burning with jealousy that they were the ones who got to hold her hand in public, to kiss her (and more?) in private. They were the ones on whom her beautiful smiles were mostly directed. They were the ones that she cried over when they bruised her heart, leaving him to feed her strawberry daiquiris and jokingly (she thought) offer to break their legs with well-placed hexes.

"I'm so glad we became friends, Brandon," she'd said once, after her last big breakup, with Jackass, erm, Jack. "It's like having a male girlfriend, know what I mean? Like a male Lyna."

"Yeah," he'd managed, even as his heart screamed at him to tell her that he didn't want to be her 'male Lyna'. He wanted to be her man.

But the timing was wrong, as usual. She'd just come off the painful ending of a two-year relationship with that Jack Crenshaw bloke. It had seemed extremely intense and, for all intents and purposes, things had been going great. It had come as a surprise to Emerson's family and friends when she'd broken up with Jack and Brandon got the feeling that, so far, only Carolyna knew the full reason.

If he'd been getting his hopes up (he told himself that he wasn't, but he was full of shit), they'd been very quickly dashed again. A few days after her graduation, while having dinner at Ballynore, she'd announced to her extended family that she'd been accepted at the prestigious Muggle university, Harvard, in the States and would be leaving in under a month to pursue her doctorate in Veterinary Medicine.

Of course he'd known about her dream of attending Harvard, but somehow, he hadn't thought it would actually happen, at least not so soon. He'd managed to overcome his stunned disbelief to join everyone in congratulating her but that night, he'd lain awake in his bed for hours, wondering if this was how it would be for the rest of his life. Would he forever pine after her while she flitted on and about, living her life, oblivious to the fact that she held his heart?

As he stared at his depressed-looking reflection in the bathroom mirror, Brandon sighed, closed his eyes for a second, then he forced himself to finish his preparations. Upon checking his appearance again, he gathered himself and Disapparated, arriving in the living room of the flat that the Weasley twins shared.

"Hey, look who decided to show up!" exclaimed Marc Weasley. "Good of you to come, Wood."

Brandon grinned, glancing at his watch. "Party hasn't even started, has it? Seven o'clock sharp, my foot."

"You know how it is... women and needing an extra hour to get the leepsteek on just right," Marc drawled lazily, nodding his head in the direction of his sister, who came into the room carrying a bottle of champagne.

"Shut up, arsehole," Marissa said just as lazily. She smiled when she saw him. "Hello, Brandon."

"Marissa," he said, walking over to peck her on both cheeks. "You look great." She did. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail and she was wearing a stylish halter-top and a short, pleated skirt that showed off her long legs. Once upon a time, that sight would have had him trying to discreetly hide his body's reaction to her, but those days were long gone. He was glad they were no longer together but extremely grateful that they were still friends. Marissa was a great girl, just a bit too high maintenance for his taste. Besides-

"Hey, Brandon."

The voice sent tingles racing up and down his spine as he turned to face her. And his breath died in his lungs at what his eyes beheld. She could put any woman to shame -- those almond-shaped green eyes, those cheekbones, that nose. Those full, red lips that he knew from cherished memory were as soft and sweet as they looked.

Tonight she was wearing a pair of snug jeans that rode impossibly low on the swell of her hips and a clingy, deep green cashmere jumper that highlighted her eyes. The low rise of her jeans offered a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth, flat stomach, which made his blood roil. Although he'd seen her stomach often enough -- they were jogging partners after all -- something about this outfit made that slight sliver of skin almost unbearably sexy. Her long, luxurious hair framed her face and flowed down her back, and her skin glowed. She was radiant. She was beautiful.

"Hey, Em," he said softly, sure that anybody with eyes could see that he was absolutely, completely smitten with this woman standing before him.

And he found that, all of a sudden, he didn't care. He didn't care who knew. He wanted them to know. He wanted her to know. Maybe it was desperation, knowing that she would be leaving in a scant two weeks, moving to an enormous and vibrant land, the land of her birth. Maybe it was the knowing that soon she would be out of his reach, and available to any bloke with the guts, unlike him, to go up to her and tell her the honest truth that she was breathtaking. He wouldn't be there for her to go jogging with, among other things. He wouldn't be there to explore antique markets with, arguing with the vendors about the prices of their wares. He wouldn't be there to help her whip up the weird alcoholic concoctions that they laughingly created, consumed, and reaped the digestive consequences thereof. Not anymore.

Maybe it was the knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop her from coming back home with some bloke in tow, introducing him as her boyfriend, or worse, her fiancé.

He'd wasted seven years. Or had he? In those seven years, he'd become her trusted confidante, her partner in crime, her best friend, only slightly below Carolyna Lupin Chapman. And she had become his. But he'd let her go on thinking, as he'd told her all those years ago, that she was "safe".

"Marissa is who you want so why flirt with me?" she had asked, in bewilderment, on that long ago evening.

"Because you're safe," he'd answered, and had gone on to explain that he just liked taking the mickey out of her, that he didn't think of her that way. Well, he hadn't been lying. At the time that he'd spoken those words, they had been true. But it had not been the truth for a long, long time now, and wasn't it time for that new truth to come to light, before it was well and truly too late?

But the party got underway and it was the same old thing. How could he spring something like that on her, when she seemed to be having so much fun? He watched her laugh and chatter with everyone, himself included. He watched her dance, even danced with her himself, admiring the way she moved, the way she sang along to those songs that she knew, which seemed to be all of them. Once or twice, he thought he got the feeling that she was about to ask him something heavier than the party atmosphere warranted, but he quickly dismissed them as feeble wishings on the part of his desperate mind.

Eventually, he found himself sitting alone on one of the couches, absentmindedly nursing the same beer he'd had for an hour, hating himself for being weak. The fear of the loss of what he had with her now, incomplete though it may be, was enough make him hold his tongue still, just as he had been holding it for so long, and the self-disgust welled up in his throat like bile.

A new song began, pounding drums, two or three guitars blending seamlessly with the bass, creating a lush, full sound that he might have enjoyed more if he hadn't been so miserable. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was acknowledging the words of the male singer.

Everyday I wake up and it's Sunday
And whatever's in my eye won't go away
The radio is playing all the usual
And what's a wonderwall anyway?

Because my inside is outside
My right side's on the left side
Cause I'm writing to reach you now
But I might never reach you...

That was him. Emerson Potter had him all messed up. His insides were outside, his right on the left, and all that. Except he knew that, unlike the singer, he never would reach her. At least the singer was writing in the first place, whereas he couldn't even pick up a fucking quill. What a disgrace to the name of Gryffindor-

He couldn't stand it anymore. Jumping up, he dumped his half-full bottle in the rubbish bin and shrugged into his coat. He paused long enough to say goodbye to the twins, claiming that he was completely knackered, you know how it is, and hey, happy twenty-fifth birthdays!

His smile faded as soon as he turned away from them and he'd almost reached the Apparation spot when he heard her voice and froze.

"Hey, you leaving already?" she asked, sounding concerned.

Brandon turned around and forced a smile. "Yeah. Need to get some sleep. Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Oh," she said, frowning slightly. She reached up to tuck a lock behind her ear and his stomach clenched. "It's just- remember that disc you were looking for? Phantom Planet, The Guest?"

She wanted to talk about music now? Couldn't she tell he was trying to leave? Couldn't she see how her very presence was causing him physical pain? "Yeah?"

She smiled with almost childlike delight. "I found it! In Muggle London, one of those used CD shops. It's at my flat. I meant to bring it here tonight, but I forgot. We could go get-" she broke off, as if recalling the reason for his imminent early exit. "Or I could give it to you next time I see you."

"No, let's go get it," he found himself blurting and swore internally. Great, let's prolong the torture, shall we?

Emerson smiled again. "Okay, let me just grab my jacket."

Within minutes, they were in her West End flat and she had hurried away into her living room. "It should be around here somewhere. Sorry about the mess."

He didn't care about the mess. He loved being in her flat, always had, because it meant he was surrounded by her - her scent, her colors, her books, her furniture, her stuff.

Her.

She was coming back with a plastic tote bag clutched in her hand. She was pausing at the low side table, fishing around inside it while jabbering on excitedly about how she'd just gone into the store on a whim, and there was the CD that he'd been looking for, the last remaining copy too, so she'd had to get it immediately, of course-

Almost of their own accord, his feet carried him to stand behind her. A part of him acknowledged how creepy it must appear, how stalker-like, as he just stood silently behind her, so close, breathing in the scent of jasmine from her hair.

She spun around. "Ta-da!"

Brandon watched her eyes widen slightly, obviously startled by his proximity, and then a part of him rejoiced in the fact that the emotion seemed to vanish almost as instantly as it'd appeared. She trusted him enough to not be alarmed. His head was screaming at him to step back, to not damage that trust by doing what he was about to do, to not be an idiot.

But he ignored it. Maybe she would hex him to kingdom come, and he knew she most definitely was capable, but this was a chance. This was an opportunity, away from all the noise and music and distractions, and if he let it go, he knew he would regret it to the end of his life. Before he could lose his nerve, Brandon stepped closer, dipped his head and kissed her.

The electric current that surged through his body at the contact had made his senses spike, it seemed. How else could he be so aware of her? Her lips were so soft, so warm; this was just as good as he remembered. Wait, no, scratch that - this was better. Because this time, the CD she was holding clattered onto the table. This time, her arms found their way around his neck. This time, she was the one parting his lips with her tongue.

And he was in heaven.

They broke apart, gasping, eyes wide, still clutching each other. Brandon scarcely dared breathe, fearing that she would recoil, would slap him silly, something. She did something, all right: she stood up on tiptoe and copied his bold action.

With that, whatever self-restraint he'd had left promptly vaporized and he was kissing her hungrily, greedily. His hands wandered through her silky hair as his lips left hers to nuzzle her neck. She moaned and suddenly they were stumbling to the couch in the corner. She was on her back, he was on top of her, their tongues dueling hotly.

Her hands under his shirt were driving him wild and as her nails grazed his skin, he surged almost painfully against his jeans. Groaning, he rained kisses over her face, suckled at her pulse point, caressed her smooth stomach.

"Oh God, Emerson. How I want you," he said in a strained whisper, more to himself than to her.

The slight hitch in her breathing told him that she'd heard him but her hands didn't pause in their travels over his skin. "Then take me."

Brandon froze. She hadn't said that. She didn't mean that. She couldn't possibly- "Don't tease me, Em," he said in a low, dangerous voice.

A hurt look flickered across her face. "Why would I tease you?"

He stared at her in disbelief for a long minute, scarcely daring to believe she could really want this. Could she-

"Are you sure?" he asked, hating the desperate hopefulness in his voice.

She nodded seriously, her eyes not leaving his. "It's crazy but right now, I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

He threw his arms around her and hugged her fiercely, whispering her name over and over again as joy swelled through his being. Why had he waited so long? If he'd known she would respond this way, he never would have suffered through all those years of painful silence.

But there was no time to berate himself for his earlier cowardice. She wanted him too, and he wouldn't let her wait. He knew that he couldn't. He kissed her again, almost reverently, and she began tugging on his shirt. He helped her pull it over his head and she kissed her way down his chest, making him break out in goosebumps. After divesting them of their shoes, he suddenly realized that he didn't want their first time together to be on a couch. No, this deserved a bed.

He stood up and took her hand, leading her to her bedroom. The sound of the door closing behind them seemed to jolt him back to reality and he was suddenly terrified. What if he wasn't any good? What if he couldn't please her? He was far from being a virgin and all of his lovers had more or less subtly praised his bedroom skills. But this was Emerson, the woman he loved, the woman he'd hungered after for so long. What if- what if she changed her mind?

"Conceptus Detentum," Emerson said softly, pointing her wand at her abdomen, and strangely, that put his mind at ease. Because if that didn't indicate that she was serious, he didn't know what would. "Well, I finally get to-"

Brandon kissed her, cutting off her words, and she kissed him back. He cupped her face and explored her mouth unhurriedly, before dropping his hands to lift the hem of her jumper. Gently, he pulled the soft cashmere over her head and the blood gushed even more to his lower body when he saw her breasts, encased in a barely-there black lace bra. He kissed her again as he unbuttoned her dangerously low jeans and pushed them down her shapely legs. She stepped out of them, leaving her clad now only in the bra and a tiny pair of matching lacy knickers.

Oh Merlin, she was so beautiful! Let him get through this without coming in his trousers like a randy schoolboy, please Zeus.

She made as if to unbutton his jeans but his hands grabbed hers.

"No, this is your time," he murmured, delighting in the blush that stole up her cheeks. It was the truth, just not the whole truth. But he couldn't exactly tell her that he was sure that keeping his pants on was the only thing preventing him from ripping the knickers off her and driving himself into her, could he?

They stretched out on her bed and he found that the slow pace wasn't enough for him anymore. Kissing her frantically, he undid her bra and beheld her breasts for the first time. Not wanting to wait, his hands skittered down her body and he slid her knickers off her too, his eyes lingering on the neat patch of black hair that covered her mound.

Brandon was overcome. His heart was hammering so hard he thought it might burst, and he had to stop. He had to lay his head on her stomach and will himself not to turn into a blithering mess. This woman, all of this beautiful woman, waiting for his touch, waiting for him.

After a minute, he raised his head and was surprised to see that she was flushing deeply.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

His heart sunk within him. She was backing out. He just knew it. "Why?"

She flushed even harder, if that was at all possible. "They're a bit small, I know."

The relief that she wasn't changing her mind was so intense that for a few seconds, he forgot that he didn't understand what she was talking about. And then his brow furrowed as he stared at her. They're- What- oh, her breasts?

"You're kidding, right?" he asked, incredulously. "They're perfect, Emerson. See how they fit in my hands?"

He cupped her pert, well-shaped breasts and she moaned as he caressed the soft masses, then gasped when he dipped his head to suckle the light brown peaks.

"Brandon," she moaned and he couldn't get enough of her.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, released it slowly and went to the other one, licking and sucking and laving until she was breathing hard. His lips wandered to her smooth, flat stomach, down to her legs and he lightly kissed the soft skin of her inner thighs. Pulling her legs further apart, he opened the lips of her most intimate part and stared at the soft, moist petals of her flower, entranced. He couldn't believe he was doing this, that this dream was coming true. As if to convince himself, he dipped his head and tasted her.

She cried out, arching into his mouth and Brandon knew that nothing had ever tasted as good as she did, and nothing ever would. On a whim, he began tracing with his tongue the letters of the words he'd so longed to utter to her.

I... love... you...

She was moaning, writhing beneath him, her hands holding his head in place as his tongue flickered against and caressed her nub, her folds, probed her cleft, occasionally breaking stride to suckle her with his lips.

...so...

It was on the horizontal slash of the 'h' in 'much' that his name was torn convulsively from her lips and he tasted her anew. She trembled and sobbed and he couldn't wait another second. He had to be with her, right now. How he managed to rid himself of his jeans and boxers so quickly, he would never know. But the next thing he knew, he was naked and lying between her legs. He was gazing down into her beautiful face, flushed with passion, her hair spread out like a halo on her pillow. She shifted slightly, causing her wetness to brush against his tip and that was it.

Grasping her hips, he found her opening and entered her in one long, smooth motion. Starbursts exploded behind his eyes at the sensations, and his brain reeled. She was hot, she was wet, oh God, she was so tight. Somehow, through the dizzying Leonid shower in his brain, he registered her sharp intake of breath and small cry, felt her body tense. The eyes which had rolled back in his head promptly slid back into place and flew open.

He looked into her face and felt horror surge though his being. "Oh my God, Em."

Her eyes were watering, she was biting her lip and her face was scrunched up in pain. Oh Merlin, he had hurt her. He'd thought- he'd been sure she- why hadn't he asked her? Why had he just rammed into her like a mad dog without being sure?

"I'm so sorry! I thought you'd already- I thought-"

"It's okay," she whispered. "Just hold still for a bit, okay?"

Brandon didn't dare even nod, just stared at her wide-eyed as the implications of what had just happened began to dawn on him. He was her first. He was the one to take her virginity. Tears fell from his eyes and landed on her hair as he held her close, waiting for her body to adjust to him. Slowly, he felt her relax again but still he didn't move.

Emerson shifted beneath him, her hips bumping against his and he hissed.

"Em, don't do that." The wench just smiled and did it again and he groaned. She would be the death of him. "Emerson, I can't-" he managed through clenched teeth, trying to hold himself still, trying not to hurt her any more than he already had.

She kissed him softly. "It's okay. You can move now."

"Are you- oh God," he groaned as she jerked her hips sharply upward. Grasping her shapely bum, he pulled almost all the way out and slid back in, watching her face for any discomfort. But she only sighed and closed her eyes, her hands gripping his arms tightly, her hips angling to meet his downward strokes.

They set into a rhythm, almost as if they'd done it before and Brandon knew he wouldn't last very long. Determined to take her with him, he raised himself up, resting his weight on one elbow. His other hand drifted down to the junction of their joining and she jerked when he found her small bundle of nerves.

"Brandon, I can't-" she gasped, tossing her head on the pillow.

He stroked her firmly. "You can. You can, baby."

It was nearly killing him, but he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, trying to help her build as his fingers caressed the center of her pleasure. Her breaths began coming harsher and her hips tried to move faster.

"Brandon, please," she moaned. "Please. Yes. Yes," as he increased the speed and depth of his thrusts, his fingers working her faster. Her nails were digging into his shoulders and he felt her muscles beginning to ripple along his length. He stroked her harder, thrusting deeper and she began crying out, her back arched, her walls tensing even more around him until she shattered with a scream.

She gripped him from within, flooding him in liquid heat, and at last he let himself go, pounding into her desperately as he kissed her, his lips absorbing her sounds, until he was the one helplessly crying out, sent tumbling over the cliff in her wake.

They clung together, trembling with aftershocks as they drifted a long while on that riotous sea before being washed aground on the soft sands of sated passion. Brandon's eyes cracked open to find himself looking into her green depths as he slipped out of her body. Her cheeks were wet with tears and he remembered. Feeling mortified at his own lack of sensitivity - how could he not have asked her something as basic as that - he reached out and touched her face.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I didn't think- it's just, I always thought... you know, you and Jack...," his voice trailed off lamely and he knew his face was burning.

Em laid her fingers lightly against his lips. "Really, it's fine. It would've hurt anyway."

"But still, if I'd asked-"

"It was going to hurt anyway, Brandon. But then-" her eyes softened as she gazed at him, "-you made it wonderful. I never thought it was possible for a woman to know pleasure the first time. I always thought, you know, that the discomfort would override everything else and-"

He kissed her, partly to shut her up because she was embarrassing him a bit, and partly because he couldn't resist. Their lips lingered softly and tenderly for a long minute before he gathered her into his arms and held her close.

Emerson sighed into his chest, her hand trailing along his arm. "And there I was thinking you had feelings for Lyna."

He pulled away to look at her in befuddlement. "What?"

She smiled a little. "It was just something I wondered."

"Why?" he asked, raising himself onto one elbow to look at her closely. What on earth could have given her such an idea?

"Well, I just noticed that you always got annoyed whenever Davis and Lyna would snog and cuddle and all that. I thought you had feelings for her, and that was why you didn't like for them to act like that. Like yesterday at lunch, remember?"

Brandon gaped for a second before chuckling as he lay back down and pulled her into his arms again. "Eww. I feel for Carolyna the way I would've felt for my sister, if I'd had one. Want to know why I always seemed annoyed, as you phrased it?"

"Why?" she said softly, peering into his eyes.

"Because I was jealous. Yeah, I know I said I wasn't, but I was. Not of either of them, but of them both." At her frown of confusion, he grinned. "I mean, I was jealous of them because they had each other to act that way with. And I wanted to be that way with you so badly."

She blushed. "Oh."

"And add to that," he continued, stroking her hair. "You'd just reminded us that you would be moving in a short while and I guess I was just a bit panicked that I would never get the chance to be that way with you."

They were quiet for a few more minutes before she spoke again. "You thought Jack and I had done it?"

Brandon hesitated, not wanting her to know he'd thought that much about her sex life. But why should he conceal it? They had now been together in the ultimate way in which a man and a woman could be together and he wanted to keep nothing from her. "Yeah, I did. I mean, you two were together for a long time. It just seemed very likely."

"I couldn't," she said quietly. "I just- it never felt right. Oh, it's not like I was some innocent little schoolgirl or anything. Before tonight, I'd done pretty much everything except intercourse."

His gut clenched at that and he felt a surge of jealousy ripple down his spine. That any other man had touched her, had tasted her juiciness, had suckled the firm girlish breasts that right now he couldn't resist reaching out and caressing.

But you're the one who got the real gift, don't forget.

The joy that washed over him at that thought had Brandon fighting not to whoop and he made himself listen to what she was saying, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"I just felt like I should wait. That wasn't the main cause or anything, but it was definitely one of the reasons why I broke up with Jack. He kept pressuring me, and I just- I wasn't ready. I wanted to wait, even though I didn't know who or what I was waiting for."

Her words hung in the air for a few seconds before her head jerked up suddenly and she gaped at him as if she'd only just realized he was there. "It was you," she said wonderingly.

It was me. She hadn't known it but she'd been waiting for me. His heart hammering within him, Brandon gazed earnestly into her eyes. "I love you, Emerson."

She didn't move, just kept looking at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes clouded with a mass of emotions. His disappointment that she hadn't immediately repeated the sentiment back to him was fleeting, and he found that he didn't care. It didn't matter. He'd waited seven years for this. He could wait a little longer for her to sort herself out.

"It's okay," he said softly, stroking her cheek. "You don't have to say it back if you're not ready."

He watched her swallow hard as tears leaked out the sides of her eyes. "Make love to me, Brandon."

And he did.

*******
TBC
*******

End Notes:

a) The title "Writing To Reach You" and the lyrics in the story above are from the song of the same name by the band Travis. It's all theirs.
b) Harvard is obviously a real institution of learning, and no, I've never been there. So if my descriptions are off, my apologies. c) The word "misunderestimated" clearly isn't a real word but is a Bushism. That is, it was created by the mouth of President George W. Bush.
d) Monty Python and Star Trek are properties of their respective owners, as is the BBC.
e) Phantom Planet is a real (and kickass!) band, and they do have an album called "The Guest". And of course, so was the venerable Bob Marley. RIP, Bob. You still (and will always) rock!

2. II

Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! I appreciate it very much, and especially Romulus Lupin (Argh! Your review had me nearly in tears!). Hope you'll also enjoy this installment and please review. The lyrics at the end are Travis, "Writing To Reach You". Many thanks to the fabulous Liss for the beta. Thanks.

II

Emerson Apparated into the foyer of her childhood home, listening to the familiar melody of the arrival chimes, and smiled to herself. There was no place like home, indeed. Even though she had her own flat, she always loved coming back to Ballynore. There was nothing quite like being with her family.

The living room was deserted and she headed for the family room, looking for someone, anyone. Her eyes lit up when she spied somebody lounging on the suede couch in the far left corner of the room. "Oh, hey!"

The young girl who'd been sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her, nose buried in a book, looked up and broke into a wide smile. "Emerson! What, is it nearly ten already?"

"No, Vina. It's actually after ten," Em replied, smiling at her baby sister. "Get your arse upstairs and get ready, will ya?"

Davina blushed. "Sorry. I just got caught up in this book. I'll be right down."

"Where's Mum?"

"In the kitchen," Vina replied, jerking her head in that direction. "I won't be long."

Grinning to herself, Em watched her sister hurry from the room, all coltish legs, creamy skin and freckles. Davina was going to be an attractive woman, with her almond-shaped hazel eyes and that glorious mass of auburn curls that Em knew her sister detested. Why, Em didn't know, but Vina was always begging Mum to let her straighten her hair. So far, their mother hadn't relented.

Speaking of Mum, Emerson badly wanted to talk to her. The events of the night before seemed so unreal now in the light of day that, were not for the aching soreness between her legs, Em would have thought it'd just been a strange and elaborate dream. But if it had all just been a dream, there would then exist the question of why she'd been having such highly erotic imaginings about Brandon Wood, of all people.

However, Em knew that, as her soreness attested, it hadn't been a dream. Everything that her mind kept presenting to her over and over again had really happened. She had slept with Brandon, had lost her virginity to him, had experienced pleasure beyond anything she'd ever known. She really had woken up to his arms around her, to the soft sound of his breathing.

And she had lain in disbelief in her bed for a full half hour, staring at his sleeping features and wondering why she wanted to scream, laugh and cry all at the same time.

As she headed towards Ballynore's expansive kitchen, Emerson's thoughts made her cheeks flame scarlet. Just thinking about what had happened had her body burning with hunger. She couldn't deny that she wanted him again, wanted him to make her feel the way he'd repeatedly made her feel last night. She wanted to experience him again, on her, all over her, within her. His lips, his hands, his-

Stop it. This is Brandon you're thinking about like that!

Emerson shook her head sharply and squeezed her eyes shut. God, she was so confused. How could it have been him? He was just her best friend, that's all. He was just her male equivalent of Lyna, whom she could talk to about anything. For goodness sakes, how many times, for instance, had she helped him pick out an outfit for a date he had? How many times had she whined to him about her boyfriends, and he'd just listened and made his funny remarks that made her laugh her way to feeling better?

Yeah, but he said he loved you, remember?

Her heartbeat accelerated as she recalled the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice when he'd said those words and Em found herself suddenly blinking back tears. She was so silly; why was it affecting her like this? He was just her friend. Wasn't he?

With a sigh, she leaned her head against the wall, trying to compose herself before she went into the kitchen where her mother was. She'd thought she wanted to talk to Mum about this, but now... what could she say? She wasn't even sure what was bothering her and why it did. How could she explain to another person, even someone as understanding as her mother, when she didn't even know how to sort it out in her own head?

No, maybe it was best to keep it to herself, at least for the time being. Maybe she would just stay here for a few days, try to muddle through her jumbled thoughts and emotions. She just had to come to terms with what had happened between them and what it meant for their friendship.

That morning, Emerson had written a note to Brandon before she'd left her flat, saying that she was going to be at Ballynore. She'd been planning to go home anyway, having promised to take her little sister shopping in Muggle London. But now she realized that it would be good to lay low with her family, get herself sorted out. There was surely no way in hell she would be able to accomplish that in her own flat, not with it having been the scene of the crime, so to speak.

Upon entering the kitchen, she saw her mother sitting in the breakfast nook, a cup of tea before her and parchments spread out atop the table. For a minute, Em stood in the doorway and stared at Hermione Granger Potter, one of the most brilliant minds to grace the wizarding world in centuries. Hermione was in her late forties now and Em sincerely hoped that she would look even half as good when she was her Mum's age.

Her mother glanced up suddenly and smiled when their eyes met. "Hey, there!"

"Hi, Mum," Emerson said, walking over to give her a peck on the cheek. "What's up?"

Hermione smiled. "Nothing much. You here for Vina?"

"Yeah, and as usual, I caught her entranced in a book with no idea what time it was."

Hermione chuckled, her brown eyes twinkling with pride. "That's Vina for you."

"I can't believe she's starting at Hogwarts this year. Wasn't it just yesterday we were bringing her home from St. Mungo's?" Em mused, feeling strangely old. She'd been ten years old when Davina was born, and naturally, that created a big difference.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Mum said, blinking rapidly for a moment, before taking a deep breath and smiling again. "Can I fix you something? Eggs, kippers?"

Em shook her head. "No, I already ate, thanks." She hesitated for a second, then blurted, "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?" Mum said, pushing her parchments aside.

That was one thing Emerson loved about her mother - Mum gave you her undivided attention. Em took a deep breath, unsure of where to begin, before realizing suddenly that she couldn't. Not about this.

"Um, I was just wondering if you'd heard from that colleague of yours about the transliteration of my papers," she said instead, and mentally patted herself on the back. It wasn't a lie; she had been wondering about that. Most of her wizarding academic records that could be translated into a Muggle equivalent had already been successfully completed; otherwise she wouldn't have been accepted at Harvard, obviously. But there were still a few documents that, while not necessarily crucial, would make her transition much smoother. One of Mum's co-workers had promised to take care of the matter as a favor to Mum.

Hermione nodded. "Actually, I got an owl yesterday afternoon. Everything has been completed and he'll be sending the papers ahead to Harvard, as well as a copy to us for our records."

"Oh, good."

Mum was watching her shrewdly and Em looked away, pretending to examine the matching salt and pepper shakers across from her.

"Was there something else?" Mum asked softly, just as Davina sauntered into the room, shrugging into a light cardigan, her auburn curls pulled back in a low ponytail.

"Okie dokie," Vina said.

Em seized upon the chance to escape and jumped up. "No, that's it. Thanks, Mum." She smiled at her sister. "Ready to get some serious hardcore shopping done?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Vina intoned, grinning impishly as she mock-saluted.

"Snarky," Em replied. "See you later then, Mum."

Hermione's brow was furrowed slightly, the way it always did when she was puzzling over something, but she smiled. "See you later. Have fun."

The two Potter girls Portkeyed into London, then set out on a leisurely stroll through the vast city. With owning a flat on the West End and her time at Excalibur, Emerson had become pretty knowledgeable about the city, wizarding and Muggle alike, and she knew just where to take her sister for the best shopping and deals. They reused the customizable Portkey often, hopping from Camden Market to the Portobello Road Market in Notting Hill, then over to Chelsea to gaze wide-eyed at the snooty, reed-thin it girls in their snazzy sports cars around Kensington High Street.

"Don't they ever eat?" Davina whispered, staring at an impossibly thin blonde who was prancing towards them in a pair of just as impossibly thin high heels.

Em grinned and tugged her sister away. "I'm sure they do, just not very much. But speaking of eating, wanna go to Fifteen? The trattoria has great lunch stuff."

Davina agreed and before too long, they were seated on the rustic and relaxed upper storey of the popular restaurant, tucking into their steaming plates of tagliatelle.

"I always love coming here," Vina said with a sigh and Em smiled.

"Yeah, the food is pretty good here, isn't it?"

Her little sister colored. "Yes, it is. But also-" She hesitated a beat. "Well, Jamie is rather cute too, isn't he?"

Em's eyebrows arched and her eyes widened. Since when did her not quite eleven-year-old sister start thinking anybody was cute, much less Jamie Oliver? "Davina! He's old enough to be our father! Heck, he's older than our parents."

"I know that! I'm just saying..." Vina's voice trailed off and she reddened even more. "Actually, I have a crush on someone else, anyway."

Nonplussed, Em stared. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my little sister? You're much too young to have crushes, Vina."

"Oh, sure, like you weren't crushing on Etienne when you were my age. Lyna told me."

"Th-that's different," Em sputtered.

Vina cocked an eyebrow, looking eerily like their Mum all of a sudden. "How so?"

Emerson rolled her eyes and sighed. "All right." Her sister beamed, and for a moment, they returned their attention to their meal before Em put down her fork again. "So who is he?"

Davina busied herself with her food, pretending not to hear. But her cheeks were flaming and with a grin, Em stepped on her foot under the table. "OW! What was that for?"

"Who's this bloke, then? That you're crushing on."

"It's Brandon, all right!" Vina burst out, mock-glaring at her as she reached down to rub her foot.

And in a rush, Emerson was awash with memories, emotions, glimpses of sensations. Brandon. One of the reasons why she'd taken her sister to so many places (Vina had thought they would only to go to Harrod's) was because she was trying to keep herself busy. If she was busy, she wouldn't have time to think about Brandon or about what had happened between them the night before. She'd succeeded only somewhat. After all, she and Brandon had visited most of the places that she'd taken Davina to, and her mind wouldn't let her forget that. Sometimes it'd been her and Lyna, other times the three of them together, or four if Davis came along. But more often than not, Brandon had been her partner in crime, haggling with the vendors in the markets, scoping out the trendy and not so trendy clubs and bars, whispering and laughing together as they people-watched.

But she'd repeatedly reprimanded herself, forcing her mind to focus on her sister, who would be the last one to leave the nest for Hogwarts. They deserved this time together and her intrusive thoughts had been more or less tolerable, until-

"-he's just so cute," Vina was sighing. "I just love his hair! So full and shaggy, like those surfer boys from California or Australia. And have you ever noticed his eyes?"

Yes, I have, Em thought. His eyes appeared brown from a distance, but up close, they were more hazel, glinting with flecks of green and gold. And the way he'd been looking at her last night, those eyes fringed with long, thick eyelashes... A tingle ran down her spine and Em forced her attention back onto Davina, who had become rather animated.

"I love how he doesn't talk down to me, just because I'm younger. He really listens to what I have to say." She paused. "Of course, it's just a crush. Not that I'd have a chance or anything, cause he's too old and besides, he's totally in love with you."

Emerson started. "What? Why do you think that?"

Vina shrugged. "Cause of the way he looks at you."

"How does he look at me?" Emerson couldn't believe she was asking her baby sister these questions. But it was as if her mouth had detached itself from her body and had decided to go its own way, ignoring any and all input from her muddled brain.

Davina bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. "The first time I noticed, I just thought it looked really familiar. But I couldn't place it. It was only a few days ago that I realized why it's familiar."

"Why?"

"Cause the way he looks at you is the way Dad looks at Mum when he doesn't know anyone is watching him watch her. And everybody knows our Mum and Dad are totally in love, right? So since Brandon looks at you the way Dad looks at Mum, it means he's mad in love with you, doesn't it? It's kinda dreamy and gross at the same time." Vina shrugged again. "It's not that hard to figure out."

Yes, it is, if you're as dense as I am. I had no idea he felt that way until last night.

How it must have hurt him to hear her talk about Jack and all those other blokes. And she'd been completely clueless... which was why her own response to his words and actions was so confusing. Why had she-

"Emerson?"

Em looked up at her sister, who was gazing at her expectantly. "Um, I'm sorry, what?"

Vina rolled her eyes. "I said, what's our next stop?"

"Oh, uh, well, I thought we'd just go to Harrod's, since that's where you wanted to go in the first place," Em answered, mentally kicking herself for letting her mind wander. Her sister deserved better. "What do you say?"

"Yeah," Davina said quietly, biting her lip before looking up and all of a sudden, fixing Emerson with a pleading puppy-dog look. "Em?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we get my hair straightened?"

"Why, Vina? If I had hair like yours, I wouldn't ever want it straightened. It's so soft and curly and lively!" Em exclaimed, reaching over to finger Vina's auburn curls.

Davina moved her head away impatiently. "Maybe so, but you don't have hair like mine. You have this." She gestured at Em's long mane of gleaming ebony waves and sighed wistfully.

She looked so mournful that Em had to try very hard not to smile. As she paid for their meal and stood up to leave, Em threw her arm around her sister's shoulders and hugged her. What could it hurt to grant her her wish? And besides, perhaps if Vina got what she thought she wanted, she might realize that it wasn't what she really wanted after all.

"Okay, we'll get your hair straightened. Temporarily."

Vina gasped, stopping short to gape at Em. "Really?"

"Really."

"Yes! Thank you, Em! Thank you! Thank you!" Vina cried, jumping up and down on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, acting once again like the almost eleven-year-old that she was. Then, a thought obviously occurring to her, she froze suddenly, her eyes wide. "But what about Mum?"

Em laughed. "Don't worry. I'll take the heat, if there's any. Let's go, then. One hair-straightening coming up. I know just the place."

Vina linked arms with her happily and they headed for the nearest alley so Em could change the destination on their Portkey and transport them there. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of amusement and delight, so that only when they arrived back at Ballynore did Em have a moment to recall her own inner turmoil.

Her sister's new look was met with mild exasperation from their mother and gentle pride from their father.

"Look at my baby girl," Dad said, grinning at Vina, who blushed crimson. "Of course you were just as beautiful the way you were, Vina. No need to change anything at all."

Mum huffed, shooting Em a look of chagrin. "Well, at least it's only temporary. You spoil her too much, Emerson."

Emerson smiled, watching her sister, who kept tossing her newly straight locks every few seconds as if unable to believe her good luck. "Everybody deserves to be spoiled every now and then, right? Besides, I won't be here to do that again for quite a while."

A sudden silence fell over the room before Davina burst into tears and launched herself at Em. "Oh, Emerson! I'm going to miss you so much!"

Em hugged her, smoothing the sleek auburn head. "You'll have missed all of us, anyway, since you're going away to Hogwarts, remember?"

"I-I know," Vina sobbed. "But you won't be here, like Mum and Dad and Ben. I love you, Em."

"I love you, too," Emerson whispered, blinking rapidly and looking up, she saw that both her parents were emotional as well.

"Oh Merlin, the estrogen bogeyman strikes again," muttered a lazy voice from the kitchen doorway. "Can't a bloke have a single day free from all these sob-fests and lamentations?"

Emerson and Vina raised their heads to glare at the speaker. "Shut up, Budget," they chorused.

Their parents exchanged an amused glance while Luke shrugged and yawned hugely, reaching up to scratch the back of his disheveled head. At nearly fourteen years old, he was tall for his age and very good-looking, with his curly brown hair and green eyes. And as was typical for teenage boys, he had a ravenous appetite, evidenced by the fat chicken and ham sandwich he held in his hand.

Mum fixed him with a beady eye. "Dinner is in an hour, Lukas."

"I know. This is just to tide me over until then," Budget replied, flopping down onto a chair. "Man, that party sure wore me out. I'm really glad you let me go, Mum and Dad, even if it was under the condition that Ben was the law unto me. It was great, though, wasn't it, Em?"

Er, I wouldn't know. I was too busy having my brains shagged out by my best male friend. "Um, yep, it was."

Luke chuckled suddenly. "Did you see when Marc tried to break dance on the coffee table? The best part was how hysterical Marissa got when the table broke. I thought she was going to pass out from laughter."

"Yeah, those two are always a lot of fun," Em said noncommittally, then hurried to change the subject. "Where's Ben?"

Dad answered. "He went to pick up some books over at Oxford. He should be back in time for dinner."

Something in their father's voice made Em look at him closer and she couldn't resist smiling over at him; he beamed back at her. It was clear to her that he was thoroughly delighted to have all his children home, albeit temporarily, and it always made her happy to see her father happy. If anybody deserved happiness, it was Harry Potter, and she was so glad that, for as long as she could remember, he had had mostly that.

They all set about getting ready for dinner, and once Ben arrived, they sat down to eat. Dinner passed leisurely and conversation flowed freely and easily, punctuated with bursts of laughter. They talked about everything and nothing, about Puddlemere's continued success, about Mum's job. They talked about who would be captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team now that Ben had left Hogwarts and when it was that Luke might receive that honor (he was currently a Beater). They talked about Davina starting her first year at Hogwarts, while Ben started his at Oxford, one of Mum's alma maters.

"It would've been awesome if you were going to Oxford too, Em," Ben commented, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "You know?"

She nodded, smiling at him. "Yeah. Like we were together at Hogwarts. If I hadn't discovered Harvard, I'd probably be at Oxford with you. But I know you'll be fine by yourself."

They all knew he would be. Ben was astonishingly gifted. Not yet eighteen years of age, he'd already graduated Hogwarts at the top of his year, with more N.E.W.T.S. than any other person in the history of the school (even his mother). And at Oxford, he was about to undertake not one, not two, but three majors all at once - English; Classical Languages and Literature; and Linguistics, Philology and Phonetics. Ben was in love with words, with the English language, always had been, and Em knew he would be thoroughly invigorated with and by his studies.

After dinner, they all helped clean up then sat around talking for a long time, just spending time together. Emerson was happy for the opportunity to be with them, not only for the invaluableness of this quality time with those she loved best in all the world, but because it kept her mind off her own problems. And once she was snuggled up warmly in her childhood bedroom, having assured her parents that she planned to stick around for the next few days, sleep mercifully claimed her very quickly.

She found herself wide awake just after dawn the next morning, however, and the day passed in somewhat of a blur. She didn't talk very much all day, which was extremely abnormal for her, and perked up a bit only when Lyna dropped by for lunch.

"I meant to come over yesterday but, um, well," Lyna stammered, her cheeks reddening and Em grinned.

"Say no more. But you're here now, so it's all good."

Her best friend smiled at her, then sobered. "Have you seen Brandon?"

Ducking her head, Em flipped her hair over one shoulder and pretended to examine it for split ends. "Um, no. Not since the night of the party. Why?"

"Oh, I just wondered. Marissa said he left rather early, saying he was tired. I wondered if he was all right."

Em looked up. "I'm sure he is." Her friend was eyeing her curiously and Em jumped up. "Wanna check out what Vina and I bought in London yesterday? Did you see her hair?"

"Yeah. She was curled up on the couch reading a book when I got here, and you know that thing she does with her hair? Twirling it over her index finger?"

"Yep."

"Well, I caught her frowning at her hair as she tried to twirl it."

Emerson laughed. "Really?"

Lyna giggled. "I think she's finding out that straight hair isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Or ironed out to be."

The two of them chuckled together as they headed up the stairs, and the rest of the afternoon was rather enjoyable for Em. Lyna graciously declined the invitation to dinner, since she and Davis had a date that would include a meal. Her good mood fading, Em sat down to eat, feeling a bit distressed. Something upsetting had just occurred to her and the more she tried to push it aside, the more it popped up.

Sighing, she forced herself to act as if nothing was wrong, but she could tell that her parents and siblings were shooting her concerned glances. Which she tried to ignore, because if she acknowledged them, she knew they would take it as permission to broach the subject.

It seemed to work but as they worked their way through some delicious pumpkin pie, Luke, apparently unable to bear it anymore, blurted, "You okay, Em?"

She looked up at him and managed a small smile. "Sure. Pass the whipped cream."

Her brother frowned but did as she'd asked. Nobody else spoke up for a time but as Em helped her mother put away the dishes, Mum said, "Is everything really all right?"

Em opened her mouth to repeat that sure, everything was absolutely spiffy but her mouth betrayed her. "Ye- no."

Mum nodded, not appearing the slightest bit surprised. "Want to talk about it?"

Em stared at her hands for a second before sighing and nodding. Her mother began to lead her to the kitchen table but Em didn't move.

"Could we, like, go in your office? I'd rather nobody overheard."

Especially not Dad. He would probably don his outraged and overprotective hat and I don't think I can handle that right now.

They climbed the stairs to the office, which Hermione locked and soundproofed before they both sat. "Okay, I'm listening."

Em closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hesitated, then blurted it out. "Two nights ago, I slept with Brandon."

"You mean you spent the night at-"

"No, Mum," Em interrupted impatiently. "I mean, I had sex with Brandon."

Her mother stared for a moment, her expression unreadable. "I see. So what's the problem?"

Em jumped up. "That's the problem! I slept with him, just like that. You know how I felt about my virginity. How could I just- I mean, for instance, Jack and I were together for two years and I never let him get that far. For a time, I even thought I would end up marrying him and yet, I wouldn't let him cross that line. But Brandon says he wants me and just like that I just-" She gestured limply. "I just give him me."

Mum was watching her thoughtfully and her voice was soft when she spoke. "Do you regret what happened?"

Em looked at her and shook her head. "No. And that's the weird thing. I don't regret it at all. It was wonderful; he was wonderful. I'm just so confused." She walked back to her chair and sat down.

"Okay, let's look at this rationally, see if we can't clear away that confusion."

Em smiled nervously. "I think I'm afraid to really look at it because I don't think I like what I think I'll see. Does that make sense?"

"Perfectly," Mum replied, her eyes soft. "What do you think you'll see?"

Em nibbled at a nail before answering, her eyes filling up. "That I'm incredibly shallow. I think I know what was bothering me." Wiping her eyes, she looked up. "Have you ever noticed that all my boyfriends seemed to more or less fit the Etienne Weasley mold?"

Mum frowned in thought before nodding slowly. "Various shades of blond hair, blue eyes. Yeah, well, except for-"

"Adam," Em supplied. "He was the odd one out."

Adam Levanan was her first real boyfriend. She'd begun dating him at the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts. He'd been in her year, but in Ravenclaw, a Prefect, dark hair and grey eyes. He introduced her to a great many things -- most of them sexual. Emerson's sixth year had been one of many sexual firsts for her. That was the year she let a boy touch her breasts and that other taboo place. That was the year she received her first orgasm from another person, and gave one back. At the end of that year, she received oral sex for the first time and returned the favor in the beginning of her seventh year.

That was as far as she was willing to go, and she'd thought it was that way for Adam, too. But after a while, he'd become restless, dwelling more and more on the fact that they hadn't done "it", and that "it" was the logical next step. Em had tolerated his whining and pressuring for a few weeks, but when he'd presented her with the ultimate cliché that boys had likely been springing on girls since the beginning of civilization, that if she loved him, she'd let him, Em had finally had enough.

"Well then, I guess I don't love you," she'd snapped, and promptly dumped his arse.

As far as Em was concerned, her body was her own and she was the only one who got to decide what she did with it and when. And she'd stuck stubbornly to her guns until two nights ago, when Brandon Wood had said in that strained, emotional whisper that he wanted her.

And she'd let him.

Which meant- could it be that, like Vina and her straight hair, what Em had thought she'd wanted, what she'd always gone for, wasn't what she'd really wanted after all?

"Do you know how Brandon feels about you?" Mum was asking.

Emerson's mind was whirling and she had to swallow hard before she could answer. "He said... he said he loves me." Her heart picked up its pace and her hands began to sweat.

"Do you believe him?"

Did she believe him? He wasn't the first bloke to say those words to her. She'd heard them more than a few times since she'd begun dating. But somehow, when Brandon Wood had said them to her, looking into her eyes as the sweat of their lovemaking faded slowly from their skin, something inside her had soared. Something about the fact that it was him saying those words had filled her whole being with light, had made her eyes overflow.

Had made her ask him to say it again with his body. And he had, again and again.

Feeling her eyes prickling, Em blinked rapidly. "I believe him."

Mum reached for her hand. "And do you love him?"

Tears rolled down Emerson's cheeks as the answer resounded in her head. She knew the answer, she'd known it all along, even as she'd wondered why she'd done what she had.

But how could it be Brandon Wood?

They'd known each other all their lives, sure, had overcome childish behaviors to become extremely close. He was the one she shared everything with, sometimes even before she shared them with Lyna. He was the one that she went to for comfort, oftentimes before the thought even occurred to her that she had the option to go to someone else.

How could it be Brandon Wood?

No, the question she should've been asking herself was how could it not be Brandon Wood? Even as her head had blundered about in the maze of confusion, her heart and her body had been standing in the clear. Because what had happened between them, that wonderful experience, would never have occurred otherwise.

"I love him."

The words left her mouth and with them went all her confusion and anxiety. It was as if saying them aloud had somehow released her, freed her up for the joy now gushing through her being.

"I love him," she repeated with wonder and conviction, and her mother smiled.

"I know."

"You do?"

Mum nodded, tears shining in her eyes now too. "I could see it so clearly between the two of you. How could I not, when you both reminded me so strongly of myself and your Dad before we had our own epiphanies."

Em hugged her tightly, smiling now. She couldn't wait to tell Brandon! She wouldn't wait to see him.

As if hearing the thought, her mother pulled away. "Have you talked to him?"

"Not since I came here," she said and frowned. "I asked him not to owl me. He's probably been worrying, wondering- I must go to him." She jumped up and hugged her mother again. "Mum, thank you so much."

"You're welcome. Now go."

As she hurried to her room to freshen up, her heart pounding with happiness, anticipation and a little fear, Emerson marveled at the absence of any uncertainty. She had never been more sure of anything than that she loved this man.

And soon, she would be telling him.

********

He'd awoken to find her gone and for a minute had been panicked that the night before had just been another blissful figment of his imagination. It wasn't as if he'd never dreamed about her before.

But as the fog of sleep cleared from his brain and he looked around, he realized that he really was in her bedroom, under her covers, stark naked. Surely he would be dead by now if he didn't have her permission to be here, like this? Wouldn't she have killed him with her bare hands, and upon hearing about it, wouldn't her powerful father, Harry Potter, have resurrected him for the sole purpose of murdering him painfully all over again?

So, no, he hadn't imagined it. He had been with her last night, had kissed her, touched her, made her cry out more than once. He had unceremoniously taken her virginity and no matter what she said, he knew he would always hate himself for how he'd taken her that first time. A woman that precious deserved something better than what he'd given her.

Without having to explore, somehow he'd known she wasn't in her apartment and upon reaching her living room, the note that zoomed into his hand confirmed his suspicions. His heart pounding within, he'd unfolded the parchment and read:

Brandon,

I went to Ballynore. Promised to take Vina into London, just the two of us.

I want you to know that I don't regret what happened last night. But my head is a mess and I need some time to sort myself out. I'll be staying with my family for a few days. Please don't owl me unless it's a dire emergency or something.

I'll talk to you soon,
Emerson

P.S. Don't forget your CD.

Brandon had gone back to his flat in somewhat of a daze, clutching her note and the CD that had started it all. For the next two days, he'd blundered about, torn between excitement that finally something had happened and cold terror that he'd ruined their friendship.

But he knew the thing that scared him most of all was the possibility of her telling him that she regretted what had happened between them, that she wanted to forget the whole thing and could they still be friends?

Every time that thought surfaced, Brandon would frantically reread her note, lingering on the line: ...I don't regret what happened last night. But then, like poisonous water snakes, the doubts would slither through the flood of relief. She hadn't regretted it at the moment that she'd written the note. What if she did now?

And as the second day drew to a close, a new thought joined the cadence inside his head: what if her staying away was because she couldn't bear to face him, too overcome with horror to look him in the eye?

Horror at what had happened; not necessarily at his looks or anything like that, because Brandon knew he wasn't unattractive. His experiences with women had taught him that much, though it certainly wasn't something he dwelled on. But in his travels for his job, he'd met plenty of women who eyed him appreciatively and more or less openly. Most of them were surprised to learn of the capacity in which he worked, oftentimes mistaking him for a Quidditch player, not simply a Quidditch department employee.

Sometimes he flirted back, sometimes he didn't. Sometimes he took them out for dinner and drinks, and if the woman was in agreement about the "no-strings attached" nature of the encounter and the mood was right, he might even sleep with them. And perhaps to make up for his dual-edged guilt -- guilt for "using" the women (which he always mentally scoffed at because the women were using him too, weren't they?) and guilt for cheating on Em (which was ridiculous, of course, because they weren't even together) -- he always gave his all to the physical aspect of the encounters. He always made sure to make the woman feel well cared for.

That was where it stopped, however. After that first time, when he'd woken up beside his date and she, being very impressed with the sex, had tried to get him to change his mind about the "no-strings" agreement, he'd made a point of always leaving before they woke up. He'd been able to let that first woman down gently, with no hurt feelings, but he'd rather not have a repeat of that event. Some of them might not be as understanding and he knew he had nothing to offer them.

Because, through no fault of their own, none of them was Emerson and she was the one who unknowingly had his everything. How ironic, then, that she had left before he woke up. Almost as if, like with he and those women, she had nothing to offer him.

"Stop it," he said aloud, reaching for the plate of reheated shepherd's pie on his desk. Thank goodness for his Mum because otherwise, he'd have starved to death those past days. His fridge was pretty much a disgrace to the name of the appliance as he'd been much too lethargic to venture out for groceries, and there was only so much takeaway a bloke could stomach.

But when he'd declined his mother's invitation to dinner at Woodhaven, she'd taken it upon herself to owl him two overstuffed baskets of what he'd missed. And of course he decided that there was no shame in being twenty-four years old and still having his mama cooking his meals.

Chewing absentmindedly on the last bit of carrot, Brandon banished the plate to his overflowing kitchen sink and took a long drink of water. When he put down his glass, he noticed the CD that Emerson had gotten for him and in spite of himself, he couldn't help but smile. Grabbing his wand, he gave it a few twitches and soon, the driving rhythm of "California" was echoing through the room. He closed his eyes for a minute, letting the music wash over him.

Upon opening his eyes, he sighed and glanced at his desk, which was overflowing with documents needing to be translated. Those pompous arses in the former Eastern Bloc were still up to their nonsense, even though all of them knew enough English to facilitate faster and easier communication for all concerned.

Instead, he had to first translate all their letters before the higher-ups could proceed. Not that he didn't enjoy what he did, but sometimes it got ridiculous. Funny how many useless spells wizardkind had invented over thousands of years (Cauldron-bottom calibration charm, for Christ's sake) and yet no one had bothered to make up one for rapid translations. Hmm, perhaps he should be the one to do that. But for now, he managed to force himself to focus for the first time in days and was soon absorbed in a rambling diatribe from the head of the Romanian Quidditch Department. Apparently, old Warezell had stepped on a quite a few toes with his last outburst.

Vaguely, he was aware of the soft guitar strains that signaled the beginning of another song but he wasn't really listening. He was near the end of the very upset letter from the Romanian Minister when somebody spoke, loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Hi, there."

Brandon jerked in alarm and whipped around. "Emerson! You scared the piss out of me!" How come he hadn't heard the arrival chimes?

"Sorry," she said softly, biting her bottom lip. As if hearing his unspoken question, she continued. "I used my key." She held up the key to his flat that he'd given her a long time ago. He'd forgotten that she had it.

Brandon stared at her, scarcely daring to believe that she was here. She had come back. She was here with him and she was so beautiful, wearing a knee-length denim skirt with a slightly frazzled hemline, an unzipped grey fleece jacket over a light blue tank top, and flip-flops. Her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She looked the picture of casual elegance and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he had neither combed his hair nor shaved in two days and that, at not quite eight o'clock in the evening, he looked all decked out for bed in his flannel pyjama bottoms and plain, white t-shirt. His heart pounded in his chest and he knew it wasn't from fright.

For a moment they were silent, just staring at each other, and Brandon drank in the sight of her. He didn't know what to do, yet he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to hug her, to touch her face, reassure himself that she really was here. Oh God, he wanted to kiss her so badly.

"So, nice music," she said at last, gesturing at his stereo.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Yeah. Phantom Planet, The Guest."

She seemed to be trying not to smile. "It any good?"

"Yeah, it's great," he said, standing up and walking over to her. He stopped right in front of her, close enough to touch her but didn't. "I've been wanting it for a while now."

He watched her visibly swallow as her eyes darted across his face, lingering on his lips. She licked her own and Brandon had to will himself not to jump her. He was too uncertain of his standing to risk making a move. If anything at all was going to happen tonight, she would have to be the initiator.

She was breathing harder, he noticed, but still he didn't move and at last, when he thought he couldn't take the tension anymore, she began leaning closer. It seemed to take forever for her to close the distance between their lips but when they touched, they both jerked at the current that shot through their beings. The next thing he knew, they were kissing hungrily, their arms around each other and he was backing her into the wall. She pressed herself against him, her fingers in his hair, her tongue in his mouth.

They broke the kiss only for gulps of air before their lips were fused together again and Brandon groaned when he realized that one of her hands had left his hair to burrow inside his pyjama bottoms. Something in his head was screaming at him to stop everything immediately, that they needed to talk before things went any further. But the voice was drowned out in the rush of desire that flooded through his being as she began to stroke him. And as the passion surged hot and urgent between them, he was helpless to do anything but be consumed by the delicious fire.

Reaching down, he pushed her skirt up, his fingers bypassing her knickers to touch her. She was nearly dripping and she moaned deeply as he caressed her. Breathing harshly, she pushed down his pyjamas, freeing him, both her hands stroking him now.

"Emerson," he groaned as he lifted her right leg, giving him better access to her wetness. His middle finger slid into her and as his thumb circled her clit, she began to tremble.

"Brandon, please. Now," she whimpered, moving against his hand, her eyes dark with desire.

He kissed her as he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Pressing her into the wall, he pulled her knickers aside and began to enter her slowly. But she jerked her hips forward sharply, drawing him all the way in and he saw stars.

She began rocking frantically against him, her teeth grazing the skin of his neck. "Fuck me, fuck me," she pleaded, and how could he refuse her? He was nearly blind with his own hunger and desperation.

Gripping her hips tighter, he pulled away then slammed into her with a growl. It was hard and fast and vocal, both of them grunting and groaning like savage beasts. She met his every thrust eagerly, her head thrown back against the wall, her legs locked tightly around his waist. She was so hot, so fucking sexy, and Brandon couldn't stop kissing her as he pounded into her body, wanting her, needing her, all of her. It wasn't long before she began crying out his name as her body shuddered in his embrace, her walls greedily milking him so that he exploded forcefully into her welcoming warmth.

They slumped against each other, their breathing ragged and somehow, his legs managed to hold them up as they trembled against the wall. Finally, he slipped out of her and helped her stand. She leaned her head against his chest for a moment, breathing deeply as he dropped a smattering of light kisses over her damp skin. She cleaned them up with a wave of her wand and they fixed their clothes and sank down feebly onto the carpeted floor of his office.

As they regained their senses, Brandon felt the beginnings of an awkwardness creeping between them as the music continued to echo in the room. He didn't know what to say to ease the growing tension and an uneasy silence reigned for a few minutes.

Emerson was blushing, her legs stretched out before her as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt. She kept glancing at him and, after a few false starts, managed to speak. "So... thanks for letting me have that time alone. I just needed to, you know, figure things out."

He looked at her. "And did you figure anything out?" He hated the hopefulness in his voice but he couldn't help it. But surely what had just transpired meant that any decision she had made was in his favor? Didn't it? Unless it was a one-last-shag-for-the-road kind of thing...

"Yeah, I did," she said, but didn't elaborate.

He looked at her again. "What did you decide?"

"What do you think I decided?"

Feeling irritated, Brandon glared at her. She had no right to be coy, not after these past days of limbo that she'd held him in. As if realizing the same thing, she had the good grace to look abashed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I-I want to be with you, Brandon. What just happened between us wouldn't have if I hadn't."

Yes! Yes! Joy gushed through his being around that slight brain twister and his heart hammered harder than it had been doing just a few minutes ago. A small part of him wanted to be angry with her; he wanted to resent her for those two days, for all the panic and fear that he'd experienced. But how could he, when she'd just given him the one answer that he'd desperately been hoping for? She wanted to be with him. She didn't regret what had happened. He hadn't ruined their friendship.

Reaching over, he pulled her to him and she went gladly, clinging just as tightly to him as he was to her, both of them nearly giddy with happiness. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in and thanking the gods for this blessing, for this dream finally coming true.

"I'm so sorry for making you wait," she murmured, her hands gently running through his thick hair. "I can be a bit of a doofus."

He smiled, pulling away to look into her eyes and she smiled back. They kissed tenderly, wonderingly, for a moment before hugging each other again.

Em sighed into his chest as he stroked her hair. "Can you believe it's us, together? If anyone had told me back in first year at Hogwarts that we would end up together, I think I'd have laughed my bum off."

"Now that would be a shame as it's a pretty cute bum you have here," he replied.

She laughed and he felt a rush of happiness. "Already acting like a boyfriend, Wood?"

"Why shouldn't I? I am your boyfriend, aren't I?"

She gazed at him in silence and his heart twitched painfully at the adoration in her eyes. "Yes, you are," she said finally, her voice soft. "And I'm your girlfriend."

My girlfriend. He kissed her again and she melted against him with a sigh, her arms encircling him to travel up and down his back. Brandon wished they never had to stop, that they could just stay there on his office carpet for eternity, exploring each other's mouth, her warm breath against his cheek, her breasts pressing against his chest. But gradually, the kiss wound down and they hugged each other fiercely, exhilarated and terrified all at once by this new direction that their friendship had taken.

It was a long time before either of them spoke. "We have lousy timing, though, that's for sure," Em said suddenly. "What with my going to America in two weeks."

Brandon froze, dismay crashing upon his head. How could he have forgotten that? She was leaving. She'd been planning it for months, years. But-

"You're still going to go?" he blurted, his eyes wide with anxiety.

She looked at him quizzically. "Yeah, I am. Everything's been arranged. Well, except for my packing but I have two weeks to do that. It shouldn't take that long, even."

He felt a glimmer of irritation. How could she be so blasé about it? They'd just gotten together and she was talking about her departure as if it didn't cause her the slightest twinge of distress.

"Well, the prospect of our being apart certainly doesn't seem to be bothering you any," he commented dryly.

She pulled out of his embrace and glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course it bothers me. But what do you want me to do, wail and carry on? That's not my style and you know it. We'll just have to make our way the best we can."

The words slipped out before he could stop them. "Or you could just not go." Ugh. Great going, dickhead.

She gaped at him in disbelief. "Please tell me you didn't just say that. You know how long I've wanted to do this, Brandon. I don't want to leave you. But I have to do this."

"Why?" he asked, sounding harsher than he'd intended. "I mean, I know why. But why Harvard? Why not Cambridge or Oxford? I know they have Veterinary programs too. I checked."

She was shaking her head. "I don't know how to explain it. I just- I must do this. If I don't, I know I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

The rest of her life. "How long do you want to be with me? I mean, how long do you see this, us, lasting?"

She looked startled by the question, her eyes wide. "How long do you want to be with me?" she parroted.

"To the end of my life and beyond. This is it for me," he said seriously, grasping her hands. "Do you know how long I've loved you?"

She shook her head, tears falling out of her eyes now to roll down her cheeks.

"Seven years. That's how long I've waited for this, Em. I don't know if I could stand being apart from you now."

"Come away with me," she said, her voice choked with emotion, kneeling beside him. "Come with me to America. I'm sure you can still work for the Ministry from there. We could work something out with them."

He shook his head, feeling frustrated. She didn't understand. "I don't think you get it. I want to marry you." At her shocked expression, he gave a rueful smile. "I know, I'm pathetic. We only just got together and I'm already talking marriage."

"You're not pathetic," she murmured, gazing at him with tears in her eyes. "I love you, Brandon."

He stared at her, the words he'd so longed to hear from her now resounding in his head. She loved him, she loved him-

"I love you," she said again and he grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her all over her face, his tears mingling with hers.

She straddled him and he felt himself stirring again. Perhaps she felt it too, because she suddenly reached up and pulled her tank top over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra and his mouth was on her breasts before she could blink.

"Hold on," he whispered before Apparating them to his bedroom. They collapsed on his bed, kissing desperately. She flipped them over and wiggled out of her clothes before pulling his own off him. Kneeling between his legs, she grasped him and without any warning, took him into her mouth. Brandon nearly passed out at the sudden assault of sensations and he wondered fleetingly where she'd learned to do what she was doing so expertly. He found that he didn't want to know.

She sucked him while simultaneously doing something with her tongue and he yelled. "Emerson! Oh bloody fu-"

He pulled away from her maddening mouth and captured her lips greedily, kissing her as he pushed her back until she was lying on the bed. His mouth and hands wandered all over her body, kissing and caressing. His fingers found her again and her hips moved with him, her little sounds of need driving him mad. He felt her body beginning to tense around his fingers and pulled them away abruptly, smiling at her small cry of dismay.

Twice more he did that, bringing her to the edge but stopping before she could topple over. She was nearly sobbing with want, begging him for release and he kissed her, this beautiful, wild woman whom he loved, who loved him back, as his fingers resumed their sweet torture of her. This time, he slid down her body, letting his fingers continue their work and when he felt she was close, he let his tongue twitch slightly against her nub. She came instantly and so hard, that from just watching her, Brandon found himself struggling not to lose it too.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he took deep breaths and fought for control of himself as she pulsed around his fingers and her cries echoed in his ears. She was killing him... this woman was murder.

Finally, when he'd regained a measure of control, he lay back on the bed and pulled her on top of him. Her body was boneless and trembling as he positioned her and impaled her on his length. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her head thrown back and her eyes squeezed shut. He began thrusting up into her and after a moment, she caught her breath and began to move with him, leaning over to kiss him, her now loose hair forming a curtain around their faces. He sat up so that his back was against the headboard and she was straddling his lap. He grasped her head and kissed her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging helplessly to him as their bodies moved together.

His lips left hers to nuzzle her neck. "Say you'll stay," he whispered raggedly into her ear. "Say you'll stay."

"Brandon," she gasped. "Brandon."

He leaned forward, supporting her neck and lower back as he bent her over backwards so that her long hair brushed the covers, his hips moving faster. "Please, Em. Don't go. Don't leave me."

She was sobbing now and he knew she was close. "I love y-you."

"I love you, Emerson," he whispered back and felt her fall apart, his own body shattering with hers and he knew no more.

When he came to, she was watching him, her love shining clearly in her emerald eyes and he smiled. He smiled even as his heart clenched within him, because he knew what she was going to say. He'd always known, even as he'd tried to change her mind.

But his Em was stubborn. She was fierce and independent; she stood up for herself and for what she believed in. That was the way she was and he loved her for it. He loved her because of it, that she was strong, that she could stand on her own two feet, but yet, she let him support her.

This woman... his woman.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "You're right."

"I must go, Odie."

He leaned over and kissed her. "I know. I'll wait for you."

She gave a sob and threw her arms around him. He held her while she cried, praying for the strength to get through the next two years. It would be hard, he knew; long distance relationships always were. But they would make this work. They had almost ten years of solid friendship to go on, and they would make it.

He would give it everything he had because he knew she was worth it. He knew that she was so worth it.

********

Maybe then tomorrow will be Monday
And whatever's in my eye should go away
But still the radio keeps playing all the usual
And what's a wonderwall anyway?

*********
TBC
*********

3. III

Author's Note: Many thanks to everyone who reviewed the second installment. I appreciate it very much! Here is the third. This is the first bit that hasn't been posted on LJ and everything hereafter is fresh. Many thanks to Liss for the beta. Please review and thanks!

III

Two weeks later - August 29th

Emerson stood in the middle of her new Dudley House graduate student apartment and sighed happily. At last. At long last, she was there. She was at Harvard University, standing in the calmly chic room that was combination living and dining room. The place that would be her home away from home for the next two years.

Resisting the urge to jump up and down while squealing and clapping her hands, she settled for sighing again before walking over to sit on the sleek, firm-yet-comfy couch beside the wide bay windows. The walls were painted a soothing cream color, with the aforementioned bay windows letting in plenty of light. Long white curtains with a blue embroidered pattern hung from them, awaiting the inevitable moments when privacy would be warranted. The living room portion contained the couch, a reclining armchair in one corner and a small coffee table, atop which was a stack of "Welcome To Harvard!" brochures and guidebooks. Two matching end tables sat beside the couch and the armchair, with a pair of plain reading lamps with navy blue lampshades. The dining room portion was empty, except for a small round table and two chairs. A large rug in alternating shades of blue stretched over the hardwood floor between the two rooms.

There was a tiny kitchen just off the dining room, which had smooth, faux-marble counter tops, a microwave, a small refrigerator and a tiny stove. A row of pantries lined the walls above the whole thing, making effective use of the small space. The bedrooms were on either side of the living/dining room, and Em had already put away most of her things and gleefully bounced a bit on the bed. There were no pictures, artwork or decorations of any kind on any of the walls. Apparently, that much was up to the occupants' discretion.

It was all very clean and modern-looking without appearing strangely uninhabitable, not like those pictures in certain magazines of fancy homes that one can admire but can never really picture actual human beings residing in.

Lyna had been very impressed with the furnishings. "But this is Harvard, right?" she'd said, squeezing one of the overstuffed cushions on the couch. "Clearly, they have money to spend. All this stuff is probably from Ikea, and we all know that company was practically created for the express purpose of furnishing college rooms."

Emerson's parents had offered to buy her an apartment near the university, just like they had for her time at Excalibur. But this time Em politely declined, having decided that she wanted the full Harvard experience, with a roommate and everything. Mum and Dad had been very understanding and Em had been once again overwhelmed by how wonderful they were.

Her whole family, as well as Lyna and Davis, had come over with her to help her get settled. Mum had stocked half of the fridge and pantry with lots of Em's favorite foods, leaving the other half of the space for Em's roommate, who hadn't arrived yet. Dad, Ben, Budget and Davis had magically rearranged the furniture in her bedroom to her specifications, and helped her put away things. Meanwhile, Davina and Lyna hung up pictures and arranged her books.

Then they'd all settled down on the large rug in the living room and ate the excellent fish and chips that Mum had brought over and had magically kept at the perfect temperature.

"It's a last authentic British meal for you, Em," Budget had said, putting down his bottle of butterbeer. "Next time we see you, you'll probably weigh three hundred pounds after gobbling down all those Big Backs and milkshakes."

"Big whats?" Em had asked, while Ben snorted into his napkin.

Luke looked puzzled. "Big Backs. You know, those horribly unhealthy hamburgers that Americans love?"

"Oh, you mean Big Macs," she said, smiling at him. "I dunno. I'm sure better hamburgers can be had than that, right?"

They'd spent the next few hours together, just hanging out, strolling around the Harvard campus, all of them trying to pretend that soon they wouldn't have to separate. The adults all had work the next day, while Ben would be attending orientation at Oxford in the morning. Transatlantic travel was always very hard on the body, be it by Apparation or Portkey, so they would need time to adequately rest and recover. After their impromptu tour, they'd returned to the apartment and sat around for a while, sipping slowly on their butterbeers as if that would make the time stretch out.

But finally, Mum had looked at her watch and reluctantly stood up. "Well, I guess we should be going."

Everybody followed her lead and stood up, all wearing varying degrees of brave smiles until Vina burst into tears and set everybody else off, even Budget. Only Davis had been relatively dry-eyed, but it'd been a close one for him nevertheless. They all took turns hugging Em, babbling more or less incoherently about how much they would miss her and how they loved her so much and were so proud of her.

"You had better write to me every single day, you hear me?" Lyna had sobbed into Em's neck and Em had managed to promise that she would, through her own tears.

As she hugged her father, he'd squeezed her tightly before pulling away, his green eyes slightly red-rimmed behind his glasses. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come home more often, like on the weekends and stuff?"

"I want to, Dad, but it wouldn't be a good idea," she said, wiping her eyes. "I just know I would be tempted to stay, especially now that Brandon and I-"

There was a deafening silence all of a sudden as Brandon's absence loomed over the room. He'd been planning to come too, of course, but at the last minute had been called in to work. Things had reached a critical point in the increasingly strained relationship between his boss and the Romanian officials, and Brandon's diplomatic presence and interpretation skills had been urgently needed. He'd wanted to ignore the summons, unwilling to miss accompanying her to school, but she had made him go and they'd both cried and kissed each other desperately before he left. Em had put on a brave face but everybody was obviously aware of how deeply she wished that he were there.

"-I mean, it's best that I stay here as much as possible. And you lot can always come and see me. But I'll definitely be home for Christmas!" Em continued in a determinedly cheerful voice.

Dad hugged her again. "I know." He pulled away and touched her face, a small smile playing around his mouth. "My Moppet. I'm so proud of you."

Em had burst into tears and sobbed into her father's chest then, and now, sitting alone on the couch, she blinked back tears at the memory. Their support meant so much to her. She knew she could do this. How could she not, when so many people were in her corner, rooting for her?

With a sigh, she leaned back into the couch, twirling her wand absentmindedly with her fingers. It would've been so nice if Brandon could've been here, though. They'd been counting on these last few hours together, not that they hadn't been spending most of their time in each other's company. They'd jokingly talked about getting addiction counseling in advance of the inevitable withdrawal pain that would surely assail them.

"I mean, have we spent more than a few hours apart since we got together?" he'd asked as they snuggled together in his bed that morning.

Em had giggled. "No, we haven't. But enough talking, right?" Her hand trailed down to grasp him.

"What, again?" he'd mock-whined. "You insatiable woman." But he'd been firming in her hand even as he spoke.

If there was one thing that she would definitely be suffering withdrawal symptoms of, it would be sex. Em had always thought that the ability to engage in near-constant sexual activity was a myth invented by sleazy paperback romance writers with too much imagination. It was just not possible for the physical body to endure that much exertion, pleasurable or not, over such extended periods of time.

But ever since she and Brandon had crossed the line from friends to lovers, Em had discovered, to her amazement and delight, that it was no myth. She and Brandon had made love every single day of her last two weeks at home, and often that was multiple times in each sitting and sometimes more than one sitting a day. The level of attraction between them was almost ridiculous so that sometimes, all they had to do was look at each other and that raw, burning hunger would consume them. It was as if they were trying to stockpile, in a way, for the lean times ahead, when they could only expect to be together one weekend a month. Indeed, as the two weeks drew to a close, their lovemaking had taken on a desperate intensity that both frightened and exhilarated Emerson.

Everybody had been very happy for them, with most of their friends and family expressing sentiments along the lines of "It's about time!" and "I knew it!". Brandon's father had joked about the business partnership between him and Em's father becoming even more solidified by the new relationship between their children.

"So if you were thinking of breaking away, Harry, you'll be leaving chunks of your flesh behind, what with this new development. We've been practically bonded with a Permanent Sticking Charm. Or at least what those Muggles call crazy glue."

Harry had grinned. "Not a chance, Oliver. I have no intention of leaving, so you can put aside that dream right now. Children or no, you're stuck with me, old boy."

But that same night, Em had noticed her father watching Brandon with a strange look. She had seen that look before and it'd startled her to see it again. She hadn't been expecting it. That was the look her father leveled on her boyfriends, especially the ones he disliked. Which had been all of them. Em thought that if her Dad had his way, she would surely end up an old maid, living at home forevermore. He'd always been polite and amiable with her beaus, of course, but there was never any doubt that he secretly thought none of them was worthy of his daughter. It didn't help that every single one of them had been more or less intimidated by who he was, by his name and scar, which Em knew truly irritated him.

"This is different, though, cause it's Brandon," Em said aloud to her empty Harvard apartment, a frown upon her forehead. "Why would he give Brandon that look? He's known him since Brandon was in nappies."

But with packing and everything else going on, she hadn't had a chance to talk to her father about her concerns. The two weeks had just sped by so that now, here she was talking to herself in a fabulously cool flat in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She would have to be sure to bring it up as soon as possible. Somehow, she knew that this time, this relationship was different, special. This was it, and she didn't want bad feelings on anyone's part to ruin it.

Sighing, Em stood up and walked into the kitchen, still twirling her wand. Not really hungry, but with nothing else to do, she grabbed a handful of grapes and went back to the living room. She wanted to go out and explore the campus some more, but she also wanted to wait for her roommate, whom she hadn't met as of yet.

Where was she, anyway? Em had thought she would be here by now. Her roommate's name was Kaydia McDermott, "but everybody calls me Kady", she had written in the letter that Em had received a week ago. The letter had given a little background: she was from Tulsa, Oklahoma, an only child, would be starting her first year in the Harvard Business School's MBA program. She sounded very nice in the letter and Em had promptly written back.

She'd had a bit of a dilemma, though. Should she mention that she was a witch? Kady hadn't said anything about that and after much debate with Brandon, Lyna and her parents, she'd decided to keep it to herself for the time being. If Kady turned out to be a Muggle, Em could decide, based on her personality, whether or not to tell her.

Just then, the doorknob rattled and Em sat up abruptly, tucking her wand under one of the cushions. The door opened and a petite young woman with a short, pixie haircut stumbled into the room, her arms laden with books, bags and a large potted plant.

Em jumped up and hurried forward. "Here, let me help you with that."

The woman looked up. She had big blue eyes, brown hair and a small pointed nose. Her mouth turned up in a wide smile. "Oh, thanks! I'm surprised I haven't broken anything yet, actually. I'm awfully clumsy."

As if to confirm the statement, the plant in her arms tipped over and would have smashed on the floor if Em hadn't caught it. She grinned. "You don't say. Are you Kady?"

"Yeah. Emerson, right?"

Em nodded. "Yep. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Kady said, with a smile. "I'd shake your hand, but..."

They both laughed and Em helped her carry her things to the other bedroom. They deposited the bags on the floor and Em set the plant on Kady's nightstand.

"Wow, look at this place!" Kady exclaimed, her eyes wide as she looked around. "Clearly, Harvard isn't in any danger of going bankrupt any time soon. Merlin's beard, is this a full size bed? I was expecting a twin, at the most!"

Em grinned at her, then her eyes widened as she realized what Kady had said. "Merlin?"

The other woman looked startled, her eyes rounding. "Oh, I just, I mean-"

"It's okay, I'm a witch too," Em said and chuckled when Kady sank dramatically onto her bed.

"Oh, thank goodness. I wanted to write that I was one in my letter, but then I thought, what if you were some poor Mormon or something and wouldn't that give you quite a shock? Not to mention a fright."

They laughed and Em knew that she liked Kady very much. They started up a rousing conversation as Kady began to put her things away, sharing about their school days and how they came to be in the same room at one of the most prestigious universities in the world. Em told her about Hogwarts and Excalibur, while Kady shared about attending Pinehurst School of Wizardry in Indiana and then the University of Oklahoma.

"I decided not to go to a wizarding college, cause I knew I wanted an MBA from here, and I figured it would be too hard to convert all that work into an acceptable form for Harvard," she said. "Besides, OU offered me a full scholarship, which I had to snatch up. Otherwise, I'd probably be in a shitload of debt right now."

They moved to the living room, where Em retrieved her wand from under the cushions as they sat down to talk some more.

Kady grinned mischievously at her. "Okay, you probably hear this all the time, being a witch and British and all that. But, any relation to Harry Potter?"

Em looked at her hands for a second and smiled ruefully. She'd known this would come up sooner or later, the instant that she'd discovered that Kady was a witch. "Erm, actually, I do hear it all the time. And yes, we're related. He's my dad."

Her new friend chuckled. "Okay, I deserved that." When Em didn't laugh, she looked puzzled and leaned forward. "You were joking, right?"

"Nope."

Kady's mouth fell open. "Oh my gosh! You're serious? Harry- the Harry Potter is your father?"

"Yep." If this were any other person Em probably would have been irritated, but there was just something about Kady that endeared her to Em. Knowing it would excite her roommate even more, Em grinned as she continued. "He was here not too long ago."

"Shut up," Kady said in a hushed voice. "He was here?"

Em couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. He sat right where you're sitting."

Kady jumped up as if she'd just been electrocuted and Em laughed harder. The brunette stared at the couch as if it had suddenly been transfigured into the Hope Diamond, before sitting down gingerly again and gazing enviously at Em.

"It must be so awesome."

"He's just my dad," Em said, softly. "Just like anybody else's."

Kady looked away. "Hopefully not like mine."

Em frowned. "I'm sorry. Can I ask-"

"He walked out on my mom when I was born," Kady said, smiling sadly. "She really loved him, and it just broke her, I think. She left me with my grandmother, her mother, when I was about two years old and I haven't seen her since."

"Oh, Kady."

Kady shrugged. "It's okay. I've learned to deal with it. It's been just me and Nana ever since, and I'm thankful for that much. I've never doubted that Nana loves me and maybe it's for the best that I grew up with her and not my parents." She perked up suddenly. "Anyway, maybe I can meet your parents sometime. Dr. Granger is your mother, isn't she?"

Deciding not to get into it at the moment, Em nodded. "Yeah, she is. I'm sure they would love to meet you, too. They were hoping to do that today."

"Damn. Can you believe I got lost? I was hoping to be here by two o'clock at the latest, but did you notice it was after six when I got in?"

The two of them talked long into the night, over dinner of beef stew that Em's mother had made and bottles of warm butterbeer. Finally, they bid each other good night and Em went to her room, closed the door, stared at her smoothly made bed and sighed. She'd been happy to be with Kady because it meant that she could postpone the inevitable moment when she would have to go to her bedroom, which she knew was empty.

He wasn't here.

Her first night alone. Her first night without Brandon beside her, without his warm body to snuggle up to, without his lips on hers, his firm length within her. The first night was always the hardest, everyone said, and she'd always wondered if that was true. Well, now she knew that it was.

She didn't try to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks as she undressed and put on her pyjamas. It felt strange to be wearing clothes to bed; she'd slept nude every night for the past two weeks. But there was no point in being naked if there was nobody there to warm her. There was no point if he wasn't there.

Em sniffled and hugged her pillow, curled up under her covers. She missed him so much. Why had she come here? Why hadn't she stayed, like he'd wanted her to?

Well, he didn't, not really. He was just desperate. He'd have changed his mind, you know that. He knows how much you've wanted to do this.

She did know that. He'd have let her go, even if she'd given in that night. Because he knew her through and through, better than she knew herself sometimes. Emerson turned her head to stare at the picture of him that smiled and blew kisses to her.

"I love you, Brandon," she whispered.

Tap, tap.

Em started and looked up sharply, staring at the curtained window of her bedroom. Tap, tap. Frowning, she climbed out of bed and went over. Pulling the curtain back, she saw a large barn owl hovering outside and hastened to let it in. The bird stuck out its leg so she could untie the note, then shook itself and settled on the window ledge.

"Are you staying then?" Em asked it, and the bird hooted. "Okay."

She conjured up some owl treats and water, which the owl gulped gratefully before settling down with its head under one wing, clearly exhausted from its long journey. Her heart pounding, Em sat down on her bed and unrolled the note. The handwriting jumped out at her and she had to wipe away tears of joy before she could read.

Dear Emerson,

Our first night apart. I miss you so much that it's nearly killing me. Why am I not with you? Why are my arms not around you, my nose not buried in your hair? Why am I not reaching for covers that you have already kicked off the bed?

Em laughed, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. She ignored them, her eyes greedily reading on.

Because of stupid life, isn't it? Because I have to be playing peacekeeper and mediator between two old men with oversized egos and bad grammar, isn't it? Because you have to be so damn stubborn and it just has to be Harvard, isn't it? Because right now, it's just what we have to do, isn't it?

But it will get better, I promise. I know it won't get easier. I know I won't ever miss you any less than I do at this moment. But somehow, it will become more bearable. I don't know why that is; I wish I did.

But I love you, my Em. I love you so much that it hurts to breathe when I think about it. I wish I was there with you, or you were here with me in this snooty hotel room with its enormous and heavy furniture that would likely give me a concussion if I were to so much as lightly bump my head against it. I am so sorry that I couldn't go over with you today. I hope it was sweet nevertheless, with your family and Lyna there.

This is the first of many. I've instructed the owl to stay there until the morning, so it can get some rest and so you can send a note back, if you'd like. I hope that's okay. I should be back home by Tuesday, which should make for less travel for the poor birds anyway. Here's hoping that the first full day of your dream-come-true is wonderful and everything you had ever hoped for.

Just know, somebody in Romania loves you and thinks you have the best bum in the entire universe. It's just so excellent and firm, yet soft at the same time, and so perfect for holding in my hands when you're on top and- ahem, where was I?

I'm counting the days till we can be together again. Sleep well, my sweet, and knock 'em dead. I love you madly.

Brandon

Emerson sniffled and wiped her eyes, then lay down again, clutching the letter to her chest. A goofy smile refused to leave her face as she wrapped her blankets around her again and stared at his picture on her nightstand. Reaching over, she picked it up and kissed the glass.

"I love you."

Then, laying down again, she placed the letter under her pillow, sighed deeply and closed her eyes. The first day of the rest of her life began tomorrow.

4. IV

Author's Note: Thanks to all my reviewers!!! Y'all rock! Please keep it up and here's another chapter. As always, many thanks to the lovely Lissanne for the beta. Enjoy!

IV

September 12

Within two weeks, Em had settled so well into a routine that it always startled her to realize that it had actually only been that long. It felt like she'd been doing it for ages: getting up by seven in the morning, grabbing a bite to eat - sometimes with Kady, sometimes not - and bounding across the expansive campus to her first class. Classes were either lectures or labs, taking up all morning. Then lunch, and the same thing over again. She would return to her room after five in the evenings, feeling exhausted and alive at the same time.

Her classes were very intensive. If she hadn't already studied their magical equivalents, Em knew she would likely be very overwhelmed right now. Just the names - Gross Anatomy, Microscopic Anatomy, Clinical Correlates, Professional Development, Microbiology, Physiology - sounded daunting. She was in the graduate dual degree program, which would give her both a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree and a PhD. Harvard's program was condensed into four years, whereas most colleges allowed a whopping seven years for the dual degree. But Em had gone even further, squeezing the whole thing into two years. Her academic advisor had been very hesitant to allow it, but Em (and her grades) had convinced the woman that she could do it.

And she knew she could. That was why she would only be returning to Britain for the Christmas holidays, when the campus would be virtually deserted anyway. She would be staying at school through every other major holiday, even summer, working towards her goal. Two years was such a long time to be away from those she loved; she just couldn't imagine being able to endure four. Oh certainly, she'd been away at Hogwarts for seven years, but that was different, somehow. She'd been with friends and those she considered family, and her own family was only a train ride, a Floo connection or a Portkey away.

This time, she was many thousands of miles away, on a different continent, surrounded by strangers. Although now, at least, she was rapidly amassing a small group of friends. There was Kady, of course, who was just as busy as Em was.

"I mean, I like most of the classes, with the exception of Finance," the petite brunette said over lunch in the crowded and noisy Dudley House dining hall. The two of them had discovered that, purely by chance, they had a free period at the same time on Fridays. They'd quickly agreed to use it to catch up with each other, since their vastly different schedules didn't really allow for much social time together. "I suck at math, but here I'm supposed to know the principles of corporate finance and discounted cash flow valuation and- what?"

Em hid a smile. "Nothing." She speared a piece of chicken and took a bite. For all Kady's whining, Em knew her roommate thoroughly enjoyed her classes. Besides, the university would never have admitted her if Kady hadn't at least met the prerequisite requirements.

"Hi, Emerson."

Looking up, she saw a blond boy standing beside their table, holding a lunch tray and grinning down at her. "Oh, hey, Matt! Come sit!"

Matt's grin widened. "Thanks. Hey, Kady."

Kady nodded at him before continuing her running diatribe about her course load. Em rolled her eyes at Matt, who ducked his head. Matt Adler was in her Clinical Correlates and Microbiology classes, and he was the first person besides Kady that Em had befriended here. The day after her arrival, as she'd been wondering whether or not to go down to the dining hall for breakfast or just grab something from the fridge, there had been a knock on her door. Kady was only just getting ready and Em was starving.

Distracted, she walked over to the door and pulled it open. The bloke standing there had his hand raised to knock again, but dropped it when the door opened.

"Hi," he began. "I'm looking for E-" And then he looked up at her and his mouth dropped open. His eyes widened and although he mouthed, no words came out.

Emerson frowned slightly in confusion, wondering at his reaction. "I'm sorry? Who did you say you were looking for?"

"What? Um, oh, uh-" he stammered, his face reddening. He looked down at the paper he was holding. "I'm looking for Emerson Potter."

"That's me," Em said, smiling.

He looked terrified all of a sudden. "That's you? I thought you were a guy!" As if realizing what he'd just said, he flushed even harder and hurried on. "I-I mean, I thought you would be a guy, because of your name."

Em smiled kindly at him. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed," he blurted, then turned beet red. He looked at the paper again and took a deep breath. "I'm Matt Adler. The, um, the CVM office sent me to be your campus buddy, to like show you around and help you get to classes."

"Oh," Em said. "Nice to meet you, Matt." She held out her hand and he hesitated a bit before shaking it. Em noticed his hand was very damp and wondered what about her was making him so nervous. Had he really been hoping for a bloke that badly? He was about her height, maybe an inch or so shorter, with short blond hair and brown eyes. He wasn't particularly handsome, his nose was a bit too long, his lips too thin. Not that she cared or anything, because Em found herself thinking that he seemed like someone worth knowing. If he could get over his nervousness, that was.

He dropped her hand and glanced away. "So, what time is your first class?"

"It's at eight o'clock. I was just trying to decide whether or not to go to breakfast or eat here. What do you think?"

He looked startled by her question. "Well, uh, well, there's a pretty wide breakfast selection in Dudley Hall. Or you could just eat here."

"I think I'll check out Dudley Hall. I'm going to have to sooner or later, right?"

He shyly returned her smile and Em felt the urge to pat his hand reassuringly. Merlin, the lad needed to calm down. What, did he think she would attack him or something?

Sitting beside him now two weeks later, Em thought he had improved vastly. That first day he had barely been able to maintain eye contact, but now he was laughing and joking with Kady and the meal passed in cheerful banter. Matt actually had a great sense of humor and his wide grin really lit up his face. He'd been invaluable to Em's getting settled, helping her navigate the extensive campus and reach her classes on time.

He'd also put her in contact with what would soon be her first real job. Matt already worked part-time at the Morningside Animal Hospital and he always talked so enthusiastically about working there. She'd made a passing comment about it sounding like a great place to work and had been surprised when, the next day, he presented her with an application.

"I talked to Doc Meriwether and turns out, he's actually looking for another student assistant. I thought you might like to apply."

She'd beamed at him. "Thanks, Matt. I think I'd like that. It would be good to get some external experience in the field that isn't related to lab dissections."

"Great! I'm sure you'll get the job. I gotta go. See you later," Matt said, beaming back at her before practically somersaulting away.

Em had indeed gotten the job and Matt had been so excited that a casual observer would've thought he was actually the one who'd just been hired. His excitement amused Emerson but after he'd gone, Kady had sat across from Em and fixed her with a concerned look. "I think you should be careful."

Em looked up. "With what?"

"With Matt. I think he has a crush on you."

Em gaped. "What! No! He's just helping me get settled."

"Nooo, he's not," Kady said, laughing. "At first I didn't think it was possible, but you really don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Em asked impatiently.

Kady sighed. "Emerson, you're gorgeous. You do know that, don't you?"

Em blushed. "I'm not g-gorgeous! What are you talking about?"

"You are. The fact that you don't seem to care is very refreshing. And not only that, you're funny and friendly and smart. It's not surprising that a guy like Matt would fall for you. From what you told me of your first meeting, I don't think he was expecting you to be so nice with looking the way you do but when you were, he couldn't help but tumble ass over ankles."

Em rolled her eyes. "Kaydia, please. Matt does not have a crush on me. You're talking nonsense."

"Suit yourself, then. Just don't say I didn't warn you." She was quiet for a time, before looking up at Em with a smile playing about her mouth, her eyes twinkling. "Though, come to think of it, I'm not surprised you didn't notice. You have eyes and brain matter only for Braaahndon, don't you?"

As always when she thought of Brandon or heard his name, Emerson felt a warmth flood through her being and a goofy smile lift her mouth. She did have eyes and brain matter only for him. Although her eyes hadn't beheld him for two weeks, unless one counted his picture on her nightstand, and the letters that he sent every other day like clockwork. Getting his letters was the highlight of Emerson's day and she found herself always jotting down little things to include in her own letters to him.

She sighed, putting aside the job application that she'd been looking over. "I miss him so much, Kady."

"I can tell," her roommate said, patting her hand. "But it's only a week to go before he comes here, right?"

"Twelve days," Em moaned, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Twelve long days."

Her roommate chuckled. "It'll fly by, you'll see. Hasn't your first two weeks just evaporated? It'll be the same thing."

Recalling that conversation, Em sighed and absentmindedly pushed her peas around on her plate. She so hoped Kady was right, because being apart from him was nearly killing her. She really missed her family too, of course, but it was different with Brandon. It wasn't just her heart that missed him. It was her body, her hands itching to touch him, her lips, her everything. She had never gone this long without at least hearing his voice, even before when they were just friends. She just ached for his presence, his laughter, his love.

"Hey, you okay?"

She looked sideways at Matt. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Don't worry about the job, y'know," he said, looking slightly worried. "Doc Meriwether is very cool. He's not demanding at all."

"Yeah," she answered, pretending that it was her job that she'd been thinking about and not wishing that the days would go by faster so her boyfriend could get there. "What time am I supposed to be there?"

"Well, we both have Microbiology lecture at one-thirty and that's your last class of the day, isn't it, since the lab got canceled?" At her nod, he continued. "Mine, too. So I thought we could just head over there right afterwards. You don't start officially until Monday, but it would be good to go there beforehand and get a feel for the place."

She nodded again. "Good idea. Oh, are you leaving, Kady?"

Kady was standing up and shrugging into her jacket. "Yeah. The world of business beckons. Later."

"See ya," Em said, waving. She leaned back in her chair and continued to eat, idly watching the comings and goings of her schoolmates, most of whom she didn't know yet. Of those she knew, she saw Brock Langston and Sara Chesser, two of her classmates from Physiology, as well as Krishna Richards, a tall, black girl who was her lab partner in Microbiology. Krishna stopped to chat for a little bit, gleefully describing what she would be doing with her free hour since the lab was canceled (a quick visit with her boyfriend, who was a surgical intern at Boston General).

"Next time you see me, I'll be glowing. If you know what I mean," Krishna said, winking at Em, who pretended to scowl at her.

"Sure, rub it in, why don't you?"

Krishna laughed and sauntered away through the crowd and Em watched her go with a smile. It was a moment before she realized that Matt was staring at her and she felt a twinge of discomfort. Although she'd laughed at first, Em had given thought to what Kady had said and it made her uneasy. The last thing she wanted to do was give Matt the wrong idea.

"Um, Emerson?"

She looked at him. "Yeah?"

Matt's cheeks pinked up a bit. "I was just wondering if, you know, like to celebrate your getting the job, if you'd like to grab a bite after work."

"Oh," she said. She bit her lip for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to feel him out without coming across as presumptuous. Kady could very well be mistaken, after all, couldn't she? "Um, would that be like a date?"

"If you want it to be."

So much for being mistaken. Her heart sinking, Em looked him in the eye. "Would you consider it a date?"

He didn't look away. "Yeah, I would."

"Well, in that case, I'm sorry. I can't. I have a boyfriend."

He nodded once, as if confirming something to himself, then smiled slightly. "Why am I not surprised?" He was quiet for a second before blurting, "When you say you're sorry, is that because you can't come or because you have a boyfriend?"

Emerson frowned. "I'm not sorry that I have a boyfriend. I wouldn't mind grabbing a bite, but not if you consider it a date. It would have to be just two friends having a meal. Nothing more."

"Okay."

"Okay, what?" she asked cautiously.

He smiled slightly again. "I can do that, the, um, just-two-friends- having-a-meal thing."

"Honestly? Because I don't want to give you the wrong idea," Em said seriously. "I do like you, Matt. You're a nice person. But I'm in a very happy, very committed, very exclusive relationship with someone I truly love and-"

"I get it," he interrupted, nodding at her. "I get it."

Em exhaled a deep breath. "Okay. Shall we go to class, then?"

"Yeah."

After class, they went to the animal hospital, where Em was shown around and introduced to the people who would be her co-workers. They were all very friendly, down-to-earth people, and Doc Meriwether most of all. He was a lanky Texan with a bushy salt-and-pepper beard and wire-rimmed glasses, who had taken to calling Emerson "Hon" from the very first time they'd met. As in, "Pleased to meet you, Hon." "Where did you say you were from, Hon?" Em didn't mind; she liked Doc Meriwether. He reminded her a bit of her grandfather, Herb Thomas.

Emerson and Matt left Morningside just after seven and went to a small tavern called Bukowski's, where they each had a burger and chose a drink from the "99 bottles of beer on the wall" menu. Em found herself thinking with amusement that Marc Weasley would be perfectly at home in that pub for a very long time. The tavern had a great atmosphere, the nosh was good and Matt was a great person to chat with, but Em thought she would probably have had a better time if she hadn't been over-analyzing everything she said and did to him, for fear of giving him anything that might encourage his romantic inclinations. Although she'd already made it clear to him that she was in love with someone else, she couldn't help but still be a bit worried.

"I don't know," she said with a sigh later that night as she sat Indian-style on the rug in the living room. She was trying to write a letter to her parents but was rather distracted.

Kady looked over at her. "You don't know what?"

Em sighed again. "You were right."

"About what?"

"About Matt," Em replied, cringing. "He asked me out today."

To her credit, the brunette refrained from saying 'I told you so'. "Well, at least now, he knows. At least you were able to nip it in the bud."

"Yeah." She hoped she had. Em stared at the mostly blank scroll of parchment before her, trying to focus her mind on describing her classes without sounding tedious. Mum, at least, might find it interesting but Dad would probably skip over the bigger words like epidemiology and seminiferous tubules. The thought made her smile.

"So how long have you and Brandon been together?" Kady asked suddenly.

Emerson perked up, putting down her quill. "Not very long, actually. We got together about two weeks before I came here."

Kady leaned forward, putting aside the heavy textbook in her hands to goggle at Em. "Two weeks? That's all?"

"Well, we've known each other all our lives-"

"Oh, that's a relief, then," Kady interrupted, slumping back. "Cause there's like no way you can be this in love with someone you've only known two weeks. Not unless you're under some kind of spell."

Em giggled. "Well, I am kind of under a spell."

"How did it happen?"

"That's kind of a long story," she began and looked up in surprise when Kady jumped off the couch and hurried into the kitchen. "What're you doing?"

"Grabbing popcorn!"

Emerson couldn't help but laugh as she waited for her roommate to return and once Kady was settled again, a big bag of warm, buttered popcorn on her lap, Em rolled her eyes at her. "You're crazy, you know that, right?"

"I know. So, out with it," the brunette said, grinning. "I love hearing stories like these. Maybe it's because I need a distraction from my own pathetic love life, but hey. I can live vicariously though you, right?"

Em smiled. "Anyway, Brandon and I grew up together. His dad and my dad co-own a Quidditch team." At Kady's quizzically furrowed eyebrows, she elaborated. "Puddlemere United."

"Isn't that the powerhouse?"

"Yeah, they've been pretty successful. Anyway, growing up, Brandon was so annoying. He used to really get on my nerves and that likely could have ended up being the sum total of our entire friendship. Except that we had a big falling out one year and when we made up, we had a very honest conversation and he told me that he'd just been acting that way with me to try to make one of our friends jealous, whom he liked."

Kady rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Stupid boys."

"I know," Em said, chuckling. "That was when I was a second year and he was a fifth at Hogwarts. I don't know what it was, but something changed and we became really good friends. I never thought about him that way, though. Except once."

"What happened?"

Emerson looked over at the large, vaguely childish abstract painting that she and Kady had agreed to put on the dining room wall. The vibrant reds, cobalts, golds and greens jumped out at you, but there was no definition to it, almost as if the artist had just blindly smacked paint all over the canvas without looking to see where it landed. Not surprisingly, the piece was called "Untitled". But in spite of, or maybe because of all its noisy confusion, there was just something so alive about it.

Which was how Emerson felt whenever she thought about the mistletoe incident of her fourth year at Hogwarts - confused, yet strangely alive. She sighed. "It was the annual House party, my fourth year at Hogwarts. I was laughing with Brandon about his best friend, Eric, who was drunk and had spilled a drink all over Brandon. I remember casting a drying charm on his shirt, and then I noticed floating mistletoe over our heads and pointed it out."

Kady was grinning with delight. "And he kissed you?"

"He kissed me, and it was the best kiss of my life up to that point," she said, smiling at the memory. "But then, when it was over, I was just gaping at him, like stunned, cause I hadn't been expecting a kiss like that. We were just friends. I thought he would just peck me on the lips or something. So I'm standing there puzzling about it, and less than a minute after he'd planted that kiss on me, he was snogging some other girl, and I thought, 'Oh. It didn't mean anything.' So I perished the thought, and it never came back until this year."

She went on to describe the weekly lunches with Brandon, Carolyna and Davis and how Brandon had snapped at her over something that she'd teased him about a million times before.

"I was very taken aback by his response. It's not like it was the first time I'd teased him about his always acting annoyed by Davis and Lyna's antics. But he just like stormed away and I was wondering about it. And then I thought, what if it was because he had feelings for Lyna? The thought really bothered me, but I told myself that it was because it would complicate the friendship that the four of us have, since Lyna is married to Davis and all."

Kady nodded understandingly. "Go on."

"I decided I would just talk to him the next day, cause we would be at a birthday party for two of our friends. But the chance never came up and before I knew it, he was leaving." She explained about the disc that Brandon had been searching for, that she'd found but had forgotten to bring to the party. "I said we could go to my flat and get it or I could give it to him the next time I saw him. He said we could go and get it."

"And it happened," her roommate said, with a knowing smile.

Emerson blushed, the remembered feelings of joy, exhilaration and bewilderment snaking through her being as she smiled at her hands. "It happened. It was my first time."

Kady gasped. "You lost your virginity only, what, a month ago?"

"Only a month ago," Em repeated. "Yeah. It was amazing but then I was so confused the next day. I didn't regret it at all, but I couldn't understand why it was Brandon that it had happened with. I mean, I'd been in serious relationships before, and I never allowed any of them to get that far. Brandon was just one of my best friends, but just like that, we slept together? It was- I couldn't figure it out. So I went home to my parents' house, and just kind of moped around for a day or two until Mum helped me sort it out."

Kady was looking at her with awe and a little envy. "You talked to your mother about your sex life?"

"Yes. We have a great relationship, for which I'm very grateful," Em answered seriously. "I don't think I would have figured things out that quickly if it hadn't been for her help. But I went back to Brandon later that day and we officially got together."

Her roommate sighed. "That is so sweet. And then you had to leave two weeks later! I wouldn't have done it. Something that good, I'd have put these plans on hold for a while at least."

"We had a bit of a fight about it, and he begged me not to leave him. But he was one of the first people I told about my dream of coming here so he's been there from the very beginning. Even if I'd changed my mind, I know once he'd calmed down, he would have made me change it back. He knows I would've really regretted it if I hadn't done this."

They were both quiet for a time, the only sound being the rustling of the popcorn bag as they passed it back and forth. After a few minutes, Kady spoke again. "What kind of birth control do you use?"

"Estralevon Potion," Em replied. "Mum gave it to me the day we had that conversation."

"Oh, I think I've heard of it. Isn't it really expensive?"

Em frowned thoughtfully. "Well, it is, a bit. But it's really convenient. You only need to take it three times a year, cause one dose lasts for four months."

"You're kidding! Do you get periods?"

"Well, since I've only been on it for about a month, I haven't really experienced all that they say you might. They said to expect a bit of light spotting every now and then but only three actual periods a year."

Kady whistled. "Damn. That alone would make it worth it."

"Yeah, it's pretty neat. The only major downside is you have to be really diligent near the end of the cycle. See, the potion's effectiveness ends abruptly four months to the day that you last took it. There's no gradual tapering off here," Emerson explained. "So unless you're keeping track, you might go on thinking that you're protected when actually you aren't. And there's a two-week window after the expiration of the potion in which you're supposed to get your period. You're not supposed to take another dose until you've menstruated, to sort of allow the body to be natural for a bit."

"They're probably afraid that if you stop the periods altogether, you lose the ability eventually or something," Kady mused.

Em nodded. "Probably."

The two young women talked for a long time, discussing many things, including Kady's first time, which sounded like a real fiasco. At least she could laugh about it now and laugh they did. Em found herself thinking about Lyna and how much her best friend would enjoy Kady. She would have to make sure to arrange time for the three of them to hang out like this when Lyna came over to visit.

After saying good night, they retreated to their rooms and Emerson hunkered down to finish the letter to her parents. She also wrote one to Lyna and Davis, as well as Ben at Oxford, and Budget and Vina at Hogwarts. From what her parents had written, Vina had predictably been Sorted into Gryffindor and was settling into her first year.

When all those other letters had been completed, Em stretched out on her bed and picked up her quill again. This letter called for her special stationery, the one that was charmed to allow little multicolored scrolling marquees to travel the margins of the page. The messages could be modified to her specifications, but she usually kept it sprouting sweet sayings, with a smattering of naughty ones, of course.

She stared at his picture on her nightstand for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she began to write.

Dear Brandon,

How're you? I hope you're missing me as much as I'm missing you, cause otherwise, I'll kick your arse next time I see you. And you know I can, don't you? How's that for a greeting? :)

How'd your day go? Any more senior citizen tantrums? Isn't it very amusing how people allow their egos and their positions to run away with them, to change them and make them act like arseholes without being aware of it? Or do you think they are? Aware of it, I mean... maybe at night, old Warezell sits up and thinks about what a prick he had been that day. If I ever get like that, give me a swift kick in the pants, would you, please? I'd thank you for it.

Today was quite hectic, although we caught a bit of a break. I won't bore you with the class details, but suffice it to say, it involved a lot of twelve-letter words and the functions of microscopic bacteria in the stomach lining of vampire bats. Not generally a topic for dinner conversation. You aren't reading this while eating, are you? My apologies if you are (heh heh).

But we caught a break, in that the lab portion of the class was canceled. So we managed to only hear about those microbes instead of actually cutting open some poor bat to meet and greet with said bacteria. My lab partner, Krishna, happily shared her plans for the unexpected but not unwelcome free time (let's just say, I'm very jealous of her, since my partner for such, ahem, activities is currently many thousands of miles away from me reading this letter).

So after work, Matt Adler and I went to Morningside Animal Hospital, which is my new place of employment, if you recall my last letter. I don't start until Monday, but we thought it would be good if I went in today, since the free time was available. I think I'll like working there; it'll be a good way to gain some true experience in the field, at least on the Muggle side. My dream practice will have both a Muggle office and a wizarding one, and I'll just go back and forth between them through a wall like the one at King's Cross that lets us onto Platform 9¾. But you've heard all that so many times, you're about ready to tear your hair out, I'm sure. And I can't have that. I love your hair, so shaggy and sexy, the way it always falls in your eyes, the way it swings about your face when you're inside me and really working it. But argh, where was I?

There, Emerson put down her quill, squeezed her eyes tightly shut and took a few deep breaths, trying to get her racing heart under control. There was no point in getting aroused - he wasn't there. He was not there and the stab of longing that shot through her body made her wince. A minute later, she picked up the quill again and looked down at the parchment. A frown creased her forehead as she realized where she was in her narrative of the day's events. Should she tell him about Matt coming onto her? No, really no reason to. It wasn't a big deal, was it, and she'd already set Matt straight. There was no need to mention it to Brandon. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and continued.

We grabbed a bite at a tavern called Bukowski's, which has a really cool selection of beers. I must remember to take you there when you come over! It's so awesome. They sell burgers that are topped with chunky peanut butter, of all things. I haven't had the guts to try one yet. Maybe I'll wait till you get here. I can't wait till you get here. I can't wait to hold you in my arms again, to kiss you. I love you so much, Brandon. Only twelve more days, eleven if I push it a bit. Is it normal for the mere thought of someone's scent to make another person's nipples harden?

I'm trying to take deep breaths here, to calm myself down, but it's not really helping. Brandon, I'm so randy right now, it's not even funny. I know what the logical thing to do is when one is alone and there are no prospects of one's lover suddenly appearing out of thin air to fuck one's brains out. But there's only so many times a girl can get herself off. I swear, ever since I met your magnificent cock, not even my fingers are good enough. Dammit. Would you be opposed to my getting a vibrator? We could fashion it to resemble said magnificent appendage of yours. Am I being too cheeky?

I should probably end this before I spontaneously combust with sexual hunger. You had better not let anything get in the way of your coming here in eleven days time. Because I couldn't bear it if our being together got delayed. What the hell was I thinking, coming here without you? If I had known there would be this ache...

Make sure you don't accidentally deliver this letter to my family. God forbid my brothers read this, or worse, my Dad! He would probably promptly murder you for corrupting his sweet, innocent daughter (ha!) and then I would have to kill him in retaliation and thus be booted from the wizarding world (or worse) by all his devoted, demented fans with too much time on their hands.

I miss you, my sweetheart, my love. Think good thoughts (or naughty ones, if you'd rather) of me and keep yourself safe and warm, okay? Nothing must happen to my Odie, and I hold you responsible for keeping him in tip-top shape.

Write back soon.

I love you,
Emerson

Em read over the letter and sighed as she folded it. Upon sealing it, she stared at the parchment for a moment before jumping up and heading to the bathroom. After applying lipstick, she kissed the letter, grinning to herself at her rather fan-girlish antics.

"At least I'm not spraying it with perfume, right?" she asked her reflection in the bathroom mirror, but the mirror was a Muggle one and didn't respond.

She went back to her room and set the letter aside with the others. The owl that had arrived early that morning had gone out to hunt so she would have to wait until it returned to send the letters on their way.

Which meant that, until then, she couldn't allow herself to fall asleep, not if she wanted the letters to be delivered sooner rather than later. Leaning back against her headboard, she summoned a magazine from her bookshelf, pulled it open and began to read, while the sound of crickets and the cool night air drifted in to her through the open window...

*******

September 14th

Emerson,

My, what a bossy girlfriend I have, and with such violent tendencies, too! You don't need to kick my arse at all, because number one: I miss you so much, it's almost obscene. And number two: I'm already thoroughly whipped by you, anyway. And I love it.

I'm fine, back home and glad of it. The Romanian crisis seems to be simmering down at the moment, which is a relief. They were threatening to withdraw from the Quidditch World Cup Federation! That's how much Warezell had pissed them off, but after much discussion, they seem to be somewhat mollified. I don't know if Warezell even knows how prickly he occasionally comes across. Hell, the man can't even get basic English words right sometimes.

They've given me a new assignment, which will require my going to Bahrain in the Middle East for a few days. But don't worry, I don't foresee anything getting in the way of my coming to see you next week. And if something does come up, they'll just have to find someone else to cover it because only death and decapitation will keep me away from that visit. Is it only next week? God, I can't wait to see you.

I'm glad things are settling down for you over there. I always knew that behind that stunning face are some truly impressive brain cells. So what if Ben is the genius? You're nothing to be sneezed at either, especially when you get passionate about something. Congrats on your job! I know you'll be brilliant, and no, I don't mind hearing about your plans for your practice. I'll listen to you any day of the week, and feed you strawberries for sustenance when you pause in your ramblings. And that wall separating the two offices will come in handy for me to abduct you sometimes and have my way with you, won't it?

Merlin, Emerson, it's a good thing I was alone when I was reading your last letter because I would've had a lot to explain to anybody present! You don't know how much I wished I could've just popped into your posh Ivy League college room and fucked your brains out, as you phrased it. Yes, you were being very cheeky, but don't ever change. And yes, you can get a vibrator, but only if you promise to let me use it on you sometimes. Now am I the one being cheeky?

As for your family seeing your letters to me, never fear. It's a good idea to send all the letters to me, if only for the sake of those poor overworked owls. If I were to accidentally give your family the wrong letters, surely they wouldn't open the ones with your lovely lipstick on them, would they? Well, your parents wouldn't but I'm not so sure about Ben and Luke. But I enjoy being alive much too much to ever be that careless. I don't disagree with your assessment of what your father might do to me if he knew just how much I fantasize about you, and in what capacity.

And your Odie is very safe and warm, bundled up in his bed as he writes this letter to you. But he would be a lot more of those two conditions if he were with you. Funny how that name that you shouted at me in a towering rage has become your nickname for me, isn't it? I must come up with one for you... hmm... some very juicy ideas are popping to mind. I'll run them by you when we're together, if we can manage to get around to coherent conversation, that is. You do know that I intend to ravish you near-constantly the entire weekend, don't you? Fair warning, my sweet.

Now, the plan for next weekend is that I'll Portkey to the International Magical Arrivals terminal around seven pm and you can pick me up there. Let me know if that will be convenient for you and we can adjust it if it isn't. I'm looking forward to checking out the pub you mentioned. Chunky peanut butter on burgers? Trust Americans to invent something with even more potent artery-clogging powers. And I bet Marc would love to work his way through that beer menu!

Don't fret about our being apart, okay? It's not my ideal situation either, but it was meant to happen this way and we will make it. You have to follow your dream, and you know that I would never hold you back. Mostly it's because I know how happy this makes you, and nothing makes me happier than your happiness. Sounds cheesy, I know, but it's the truth. But another part of the reason is I love you so much and I can't bear the thought of you coming to resent me and honestly, we both know you probably would if I contributed in some way to your dream going unfulfilled. So just go for it, and know that I am in your corner always, rooting for you, cheering you on, loving you, lusting after you.

Next weekend... I'm counting the days.

I love you,
Brandon

*********
TBC
*********

End Notes:

Got the title yet? :) Writing to reach you... suffice it to say, expect more letters!

1. Harvard does not have a school of Veterinary Medicine. I made all that up. The classes that Em "takes" are part of a real Vet program, however: at Texas A&M's Vet school.

2. Dudley House is a real block of student housing at Harvard, and hence, has nothing to do with Dudley Dursley, of course.

3. There really is a tavern called
Bukowski's
in Boston and they really have a "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" menu. They also really do sell chunky peanut butter burgers.

4. Kady's real name (Kaydia) is the name of my oldest niece. Krishna is named after a childhood classmate.

5. V

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! Much appreciated, and please keep it up! As always, a shout-out to Liss for beta-ing. Enjoy!

V

September 24th

Brandon Wood was grinning as he stared at the gleaming brass plaque on the door before him. Number twenty-five. This functional creation of wood and metal was all that separated him from the love of his life and he was nearly giddy with excitement.

Raising one gloved hand, he rapped strongly on the door and stepped back. While he waited for a response to his knock, he looked back behind him at the walkway that he'd strolled up to reach his destination. It was lined with skinny poplar trees that were already sporting vividly colored leaves, the grass all around covered with a smattering of leaves as well. It truly was a beautiful place, with the venerable old buildings of the college harmonizing so well with their surroundings that it seemed they had simply sprouted from the ground right along with the trees. He could see how Emerson could've fallen in love with it.

Emerson. Man, his heart was racing just from the thought of seeing her face again, her eyes, her dazzling smile. These past weeks had been sheer torture for him, even though he'd had that situation at work to deal with. In a way, he'd been glad for the tension because it had served to distract him from the pangs of longing that struck him almost constantly. Of course, that buffer went away every night when he would retire to his bed and have to will himself not to do anything drastic. Like abruptly sending off a letter of resignation, just before hightailing it over to the States so he could be with her.

Once he was back home in Britain, he'd had his family and friends to be with, which had helped a bit. His younger brother, Andy, was hoping to make the squad at Puddlemere, so he'd helped out there, resurrecting his old Quidditch Captain persona from Hogwarts to push his brother over and over again until they both had to land and dismount for fear of literally falling off their brooms out of exhaustion. Just because their father co-owned the team didn't mean that Andy was guaranteed a spot if he showed interest. He would have to try out just like anybody else but from what he'd seen, Brandon was confident that his brother would make the team.

Turning back to the door, Brandon frowned. Wasn't anyone home? He glanced down at his watch before knocking again. He knew that her classes usually ended by five o'clock and it was now almost six. Granted, she wasn't expecting him until seven, and not at her doorstep either. But he'd been able to wrangle out an early exit from work in order to get here early and surprise her. He hoped she wasn't still stuck in classes. There was no way to know how long strange men were allowed to stand and stare at the door of two attractive young women before someone called the authorities.

Maybe he should go to the main office and ask for her. Biting his lip indecisively, his head whipped around when he heard the bolts being unlocked on the other side of the door and his heart began to pound. He couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face, but it fell a bit when the door opened and he saw someone that he didn't recognize. He had a fair idea of who she was, though.

"Kady?"

The petite young woman's eyes widened. "Oh! You're Brandon, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Come in!" She opened the door wider and he stepped inside, pulling his gloves off as he went. Kady closed the door behind him and he turned. "Sorry it took me so long to answer. I was getting dressed."

He smiled at her. "It's okay."

She stared up at him for a moment, and he sensed the appreciation in her gaze. "Damn. I can see why Emerson is so gaga over you."

He smiled again before looking around. The room was clean and crisp, just the way Em had described it, and he could see a glimpse of a pond through the wide bay windows. But- "Where's-"

"She's in her room," Kady interrupted. "She said something about taking a nap before you got here. This week has been crazy for her, cause she started work at the animal hospital. I guess she wanted to recharge."

Brandon nodded. "Okay. She wasn't expecting me until seven anyway, but I thought I'd surprise her."

Kady grinned at him. "She'll like that." They were silent for a few seconds before she held out her hand. "Well, it's nice to finally meet you, Brandon. Em has told me so much about you, and she's been really looking forward to your coming over. I have a date, so..."

"Have fun," he said, grinning back as he shook her hand.

"Oh, thanks. And you, too."

Oh, I most definitely will. Brandon smiled to himself as he opened the door of Emerson's bedroom. His heart was doing hyperactive palpitations in his chest and his breath died in his lungs when he saw her. She was fast asleep under her covers, which were half off the bed already. His smile widened as he stared at her, her face relaxed in slumber, her hair spread out over her pillow, her breaths soft and deep. She was so beautiful and he had to resist the urge to grab her, hold her tightly in his arms and never let go.

He couldn't do that, though, so instead, he closed his eyes for a second and took deep breaths, willing his heart to settle down. Trying to be quiet so as not to wake her, he shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the chair at her desk, looking around her room as he did so. It hadn't yet taken on the mess that was characteristic of her West End flat, but he was sure it was only a matter of time. Emerson was fond of saying that a neat desk/room was a sign of a sick mind, and she was as healthy as it came, thank you very much.

The clock on her bedside table was displaying that it was ten after six and Brandon rubbed his eyes. He didn't know how long she would sleep and he couldn't very well stand there and stare at her that whole time, could he? Well, he could, but he was already obsessed with her enough as it was. He could read a book, but the thought held no appeal to him at the moment. And although he was her boyfriend, he didn't feel comfortable with perusing her things without her consent. Deciding to just lay down beside her on the bed, he took off his shoes and stretched out carefully, trying not to tip the mattress too much. Her scent enveloped him immediately and he nearly swooned, his every nerve tingling with the urge to touch her. Unable to resist, he reached out and brushed a lock of her hair from her face. She sighed and shifted closer to him but didn't wake up.

Brandon had never had such a feeling of contentment as he had at that moment, lying beside the warm body of the woman he loved, and his heart swelled within him. Gently, he drew the covers more fully over her, breathed in deeply of her scent again, and closed his eyes.

He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, he was being startled awake by a loud shriek, followed immediately by a warm, distinctly female body landing on top of his own.

"You're here! You're here!"

Her arms were so tight around his neck that he thought he would suffocate. "Em. Neck. Breathe."

"Oh, sorry." She loosened her grip but didn't remove her arms, beaming down at him, her long hair framing her face. "Oh, Brandon, you're here!"

He smiled back at her. "I'm here."

Emerson's bottom lip trembled and she burst into tears. Brandon pulled her down onto him, hugging her tightly as she sobbed into his chest. The happiness that coursed through his being had him wanting to bawl too, but Em seemed to be doing enough of it for the both of them. He just held her, stroking her hair while she cried.

"I'm so happy," she sobbed. "I love you s-so much. I love you, B-Brandon."

He smiled, squeezing her tighter. "I know. I love you, too, Em."

Gradually, she calmed down and they held each other for a long time, she sniffling as she stared at him, her eyes shining. Brandon reached out and wiped her cheeks and she beamed at him so delightedly that he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Hi," she said softly.

He touched her face. "Hi."

She bit her lip, her eyes wandering all over his face as if to refresh her memory of his features. She reached out and touched his lips and the contact seemed to jump start something in them both. He watched her eyes darken, her pupils dilate, even as he felt the rumbling of the volcano within him that had smoldered in forced dormancy for the past month.

Which one of them moved first, he would never know; maybe they both had. But the next thing he was aware of was the warmth of her lips, the sweetness of her mouth, the smoothness of her tongue as it mated hungrily with his own. Her hands were everywhere, in his hair, cupping his face, under his shirt. He pushed the covers off her, needing to touch her too, and he groaned when his hands finally made contact with her soft skin. She was wearing only an oversized t-shirt and knickers and she raised her arms so he could pull the shirt off her.

She cried out when his mouth latched onto her breast and Brandon thought he would faint from the fury of emotions that gushed through his body. She was so warm, so soft, so perfect. This woman who didn't seem aware of her own attractiveness, who thought her breasts were too small, her hips too narrow. This woman who drove him mad. Four long weeks he'd been away from her, hungering for her, forced to shift through the memories of those frantic two weeks they'd spent in each other's arms, together in every sense of the word. She'd been like this every time too, eager and vocal to the point of nearly making him blush. And so responsive; she orgasmed easily, which he couldn't deny made him feel like a stud. The fact that she'd seemed to want him every single time he'd wanted her, and with much the same intensity, had startled him then, just as it did now.

"Brandon," she gasped, pushing at his jeans, her legs wrapped around his waist.

She rubbed herself indecently against him and he growled as he captured her lips again. Slipping out of his clothes in record time, he tugged off her moistened knickers, settled between her legs and thrust into her. They shouted in unison, her nails digging into his bum, urging him on as her hips met the desperate rhythm that he set. They were incoherent, lost, lips, teeth, cries and moans. He was home, he was safe, he was where he belonged, inside her, comforted and cocooned. His brain was gone; nothing else existed, he was beyond any knowing but of her, her name escaping his lips in worshipful mantra. The precipice rushed up to meet him and even as he recognized it for what it was, her screams filled his ears as her body shattered beneath, above, around him and he tumbled over, gratefully. The pleasure was intense almost to the point of pain, so that although neither of them had lasted even four minutes, it took them nearly twice as long to recover.

They lay limply in each other's arms, stunned by the rapid climb, summit and descent of the encounter. A bead of sweat trickled irritatingly down Brandon's face but he couldn't even muster the energy to wipe it away.

"Fucking hell," Emerson muttered weakly.

He chuckled. "Don't you mean fucking heaven?"

She giggled, turning in his arms to look at him. She leaned forward and licked away the aforementioned annoying bead of sweat, her eyes boring into his, and his penis twitched.

"You are a vixen, Emerson Potter," he said in a low voice, moving her slightly damp hair aside to bite her neck.

She squealed and snuggled against him again, wrapping her arms around him, and for a few minutes, they were quiet. "How did you get here?" she asked after a while.

"Same way we agreed, except I took an earlier Portkey. Then I walked from the terminal to here."

She sat up, her long hair flowing over both shoulders to lightly cover her modesty. "With your bags and everything? How far of a walk was it? I was just going to Apparate down there and back with you."

"Well, my bags were in my pocket, since I'd shrunk them. And the walk wasn't that long, actually. Under ten minutes. I didn't think Apparation would be a good idea, since I wasn't sure where your room was. God forbid I ended up in the librarian's bathroom while she lay soaking in the tub, or something."

Emerson laughed and he watched her, feeling so happy that he thought he would burst. Her laughter, there was just something about it that filled his whole being and made him feel lighter than air. He almost preferred her laughter over those little whimpers she made just before she came. Almost.

He could feel himself stirring again and shifted so he was lying on his stomach a bit. It continually amazed him how much he desired her. Not that he hadn't enjoyed sex before her; he was a young man, after all. But never before had he been able, or wanted to so much. And he knew it was her. It was all her.

"So tell me about your job," he said, trying to distract himself from the hunger that was regrouping within him. "Doc Meriwether sounds like something else."

Em smiled. "He is. His name is Lewis Meriwether, which he said is a spin on Meriwether Lewis, who was one of the first explorers of the American West. He's a bit wacky, but he's brilliant, and he truly loves animals and caring for them."

"What's usually wrong with the animals at the hospital?"

"Oh, it's all sorts of things. But we're almost always able to help," she said, her eyes coming alive and Brandon suppressed a smile. "Sadly, most of the time it's some kind of human negligence and we have to not only treat the animal, but also try to rebuild their trust in people, you know? But on Wednesday, somebody brought in a horse from one of those riding centers where rich kids get horseback riding lessons. Oh my gosh, Brandon, the horse was so beautiful! It was this deep brown color, and obviously very well cared for. But there was some kind of jumping accident and it broke one of its legs."

She sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulders, which bared her to his gaze and he gulped. "It's a good thing we're equipped to handle large animals like those, cause that poor horse! I got to help Doc Meriwether fix the leg, and it was such an amazing experience, all that adrenaline..."

She was still talking but Brandon found himself unable to look away from her small but full breasts. So well-shaped, with their light brown peaks that harmonized perfectly with her olive complexion and-

"Brandon!"

He started and looked up at her. "Uh?"

"Are you listening to me?" she asked, fixing him with a stern look.

"Er, um-"

She glared at him. "Were you staring at my breasts?"

"Sorry?"

She leaned closer and he saw that what he'd thought was annoyance was actually something very akin to lust. He swallowed audibly and she smirked, her hand trailing over his stomach and down.

"Ooh, what's this?"

Brandon closed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose as she grasped him. Opening his eyes, he saw that she was biting her bottom lip and that her nipples had hardened to firm peaks. He bit back a moan.

"Do you want me?" Emerson asked, softly and matter-of-factly, as she held him firmly in her hand.

As if she even needed to ask. "More than anything."

She smiled. "Then come here."

He didn't need to be told twice. They lasted longer the second time but the culmination was no less pleasurable, as if there was a backlog of emotions that would need more than two unlockings of the dam to alleviate the buildup. Brandon found the thought very pleasing, indeed.

"Are you hungry?" she asked suddenly, sitting up.

Her face and chest were still flushed from their exertions and he eyed her with a leer. "Yeah, I am. So very hungry."

She swatted him. "Lecher. I meant for food!"

"Oh. Well, yeah. Sure."

"All right." She slipped out of the bed and stood up and Brandon couldn't help but gawk at her. "We should clean up and go out, then?"

"Um, what?" Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Concentrate, Wood!

She crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "We should shower and get dressed to go out to eat."

"Ah, shower. Yes."

"Separately."

He frowned. "Why?"

She laughed. "You go first."

He whined for a few minutes but she wouldn't budge, so he gave up and slouched into her bathroom. Standing under the near-icy spray, he chuckled to himself at the irony of his situation. There he was taking a cold shower when he'd only just had incredible sex. Twice. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was a lecher.

"But only for you, Em," he murmured to himself. "Only for you."

Deciding to tease her a bit, he refrained from drying off before returning to the bedroom. She was rifling through her closet when he entered.

"Okay, it's all yours," he said, toweling his hair.

She turned around. "All ri..."

The word trailed off when her eyes landed on him and Brandon had to try very hard not to smirk. She stared and he watched her moisten her lips as her eyes traveled over him. The look in her eyes was scorching and he couldn't have stopped his body's reaction if he tried.

"Thought you were going to take a shower?"

Emerson blushed and looked away. "Yeah, I w-was. I mean, I am."

He had to will himself not to grab her as she passed him and when the door closed behind her, he sat down on her rumpled bed, breathing heavily. Was this normal? Sure, they were in the very early honeymoon stage of their relationship. Sure, they'd been forced by their circumstances to be apart for a full month, and they had twenty-three more months of this arrangement to endure. But was it normal to be so stimulated by another person? Was it healthy?

His stomach rumbled, voicing its disapproval of the way things were going, and Brandon sighed. One thing he could be sure of: nothing positive would be gained by starving themselves. Emerson was right; they did need to get ready and get some food. They had the whole weekend to be together, after all, didn't they? He was a somewhat civilized adult. Even if he had no control over the behavior of his penis, which seemed determined to exert its presence, he could keep his hands to himself for a little while, couldn't he?

Brandon found that resolve sorely tested when Emerson returned to the room, wrapped in a large terrycloth bath towel. He forced himself to finish getting dressed, though he did spend a good minute trying to tie the laces on his Doc Martens before realizing that they were already tied. He'd been too preoccupied watching Em put on her bra to pay attention. He managed to distract himself for the next few minutes while he waited for her, but then he made the mistake of looking over to see how far she'd progressed.

And his mouth went dry.

She was wearing those jeans. The dangerously low jeans that hugged her hips. The jeans she'd been wearing the night of Marc and Marissa's birthday party, the night they'd come together for the first time.

Almost without realizing it, he was striding over to her and gripping her waist. She gasped when his hands wandered under her top to cup her breasts.

"Odie, what're you doing?" In response, he pushed himself against her and she sighed. "Again?"

But even as she spoke, she was moving her hips subtly, rubbing against him ever so slightly.

Brandon groaned. "That's not exactly the best way to discourage me, you know."

"Oh, it isn't?" she asked airily, raising her arms so he could pull the top over her head. She turned around to face him. "What's the best way?"

He kissed her and her question would go unanswered forevermore. Twenty minutes later, they lay in a tangle of sweaty arms and legs, their clothing littering the floor of her room. Brandon's face was buried in her fragrant hair and he felt utterly blissful. He didn't think he ever wanted to move again.

Emerson sighed. "This is insane."

"But it's fun, though, isn't it?" he whispered, just before his stomach rumbled loudly.

She snickered. "Yeah, but we really should get up and get some food."

"Yeah, we should," he agreed.

But neither of them made any move to get up and soon, her stomach joined his in noisy grumbling. They looked at each other and laughed.

"Actually, we don't have to go out. We could just order takeaway," Em said suddenly and he hugged her.

"Fantastic idea, love. That way we don't have to leave the flat and I won't end up getting arrested for public indecency on my first visit to this town. I'd probably have continued groping you even if we'd gone out, you know."

She rolled her eyes and slipped out of the bed, muttering something that sounded like "pervert". Brandon grinned as he watched her shrug into her bathrobe. "Maybe I am. But you know you love it."

"Whatever," she said, leaving the room, but he heard the laughter in her voice. "What would you like?"

He got up and put on his own robe before following her into the tiny kitchen. She was pulling takeaway menus out of a drawer.

"Chinese. Pizza. Mexican. Thai."

"Definitely pizza," he said. "Have you ever noticed how quickly Chinese food gets digested? Two hours after eating, you're starving again."

Em smiled, adopting an Asian accent. "Maybe it because of all work hard, yes?" He chuckled as he watched her call in the order. She hung up and came over to sit on his lap. "Fifteen to twenty minutes."

"Excellent, we have some time to burn."

She sighed as he undid the knot of her robe. "Aren't you tired of it yet?"

He adopted an outraged expression. "Blasphemy!"

"Really, Brandon. You are shamelessly insatiable."

"S'all your fault for being so damn sexy," he murmured, nuzzling her neck. "And besides, you're one to talk."

She straddled him. "That's true. But what can I say? I'm a healthy young woman."

"And I'm a healthy young man."

"You- ah. Yes, you a-are. Oh, do that again."

"Gladly, meine Frau."

Everything else uttered thereafter was incoherent and they were still breathing hard when the knock sounded on the door. Emerson stood up shakily, looking flustered. She slipped her bathrobe back on, smoothing her hair as she headed to the door, but stopped short before she reached it.

"Shit, I forgot the money."

She hurried into her room and back to the door, still smoothing her hair and Brandon grinned. Knowing her as he did, he knew she was trying not to make it apparent to the stranger at the door what she'd just been up to. The dining room was far enough from the front door that he didn't have to worry about the delivery person looking in and seeing him sitting there in a bathrobe as well. But when Em closed the door and strolled back towards him, he saw that the pizza person hadn't needed to see him to know what had been happening.

Emerson's face was red and she was scowling. "Jerk."

"Who is?" he asked, trying very hard not to smile.

"That pizza bloke! He was just, like, smirking at me, like he knew exactly what I'd just been doing."

"He could tell that you'd just been very enthusiastically shagged and had enjoyed it immensely?"

She glared at him. "It's not funny! What happens between us is private and I don't want it being broadcast to all and sundry!"

"It wasn't being broadcast. Maybe he was just smiling appreciatively."

"Oh shut up, Odie, and eat your pizza," she said wearily, picking up her own slice. Then she sighed and put it down without taking a bite. "Brandon, do you think I'm a prude?"

He gaped, nonplussed. "What? This from the woman who was just cursing like a sailor, telling me harder, faster, oh please, f-"

"Okay, okay! But I mean, I know it's logical to assume that two people in love are being intimate. I just don't want it to be confirmed, you know? Not that I'm ashamed of what we do, or anything like that. I'm not. It's just that-"

"You're a lady," he supplied, reaching for her hand across the table. "You want to keep some things private, leave something to the imagination."

She looked relieved. "Exactly. While I want there to be no doubt about my feelings for you, I want to be discreet at the same time. Is that possible?"

He stood up and knelt beside her chair, gathering her into his arms. "I'm sure it is. But you don't have to worry, Emerson. I don't think you could ever not be a lady, even if you tried."

She smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. They held each other for a moment before Brandon went back to his chair, and they set to polishing off the pizza, washing it down with large bottles of butterbeer that he'd brought from home. Their conversation was easy and light, the effortless communion of two people who knew each other through and through, and didn't have to make any pretenses. They talked about everything, his job, her classes, their families and mutual friends. They talked, rather shyly, about their future together, their hopes and dreams. They just talked for a long time, openly and honestly, and again, Brandon felt that blessed sense of contentment, of belonging and home. She was his home.

Eventually, they returned to her room and made love again, and when at last she slept peacefully in his arms, he gazed into the darkness and sighed blissfully.

Life was good. Life was very good, indeed...

His eyelids drooped shut as he snuggled closer to her warm body, but it seemed he had barely closed his eyes than he was being shaken awake.

"Brandon, wake up."

He groaned and rolled over, not opening his eyes. "'Smatter?"

"Nothing's the matter," his girlfriend's voice replied, sounding irritatingly chipper. "It's just time to get up, is all."

"Emerson, it's Saturday," he grumbled thickly, pulling the covers up to his head. "The day was created for the express purpose of having lie-ins."

She giggled. "That's true, but it's almost noon, Odie. Don't you want to explore the town?"

"No."

"Don't you want to meet my friends?"

"Erm... no."

"Hmph. Well, I guess that means you don't want to eat either."

"N- uh?" Brandon said, pushing the covers down and opening his eyes for the first time. Even through the bleariness of sleep, he could see that she was smiling at him from where she knelt beside the bed and he couldn't help but smile back. "Of course I want to eat. But as last night proved, we don't have to leave the flat to do that, do we?"

Emerson stood up and walked over to the window. "Yes, we do." She punctuated her words by pulling open the curtains and a blast of blinding sunlight streamed into the room.

"Emerson!" he yelped, shielding his eyes. "Give me some warning before you do that, would you?"

She giggled. "Sorry. But we can't stay in the room all day."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, your pasty Britishness could do with some of this good, ol' American sunshine."

He pretended to flinch as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Ouch. That smarted. But last time I checked, you were British, too."

She chuckled. "I am that. But thanks to my Papi, Herb Thomas, I also have a nice dose of Jamaican blood, which means I happily escaped the pastiness factor of being British."

"Yes, you did," he said softly, walking over to put his arms around her waist. He nuzzled her neck, breathing deeply of her scent, which was a mixture of jasmine and her, and he all of a sudden found himself to be quite wide awake. "Have I told you how much I love your skin?"

"Yes, you have. And you need a shower, my slightly stinky, but still sweet boyfriend."

He suppressed a smile by pouting. "I don't want to be 'sweet'. "

She reached up to run her hands through his hair, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Okay. How about 'my slightly stinky but still dashing, suave and debonair boyfriend'?"

"Now you're getting warmer," he replied, chuckling. But he stepped away from her. "Don't get started without me."

"I won't." He began to walk away but her voice stopped him. "Brandon?"

He turned back to look at her, and his heart did flip-flops in his chest at the look of adoration in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here."

Brandon smiled at her, loving her. "I'm glad I'm here, too."

He took a long shower before returning to the bedroom and getting dressed. Upon deciding he looked presentable, he went out into the living room and saw her sitting on the couch with her legs tucked under her, flipping through a magazine.

"I'm ready, then."

She looked around at him. "Okay. Let me just grab my jacket."

She stood up and walked towards him and his eyes traveled over her slowly in silent appreciation. Maybe it was because he'd just woken up before but he hadn't really taken in her outfit. She was wearing a long, white cotton skirt that fell to her ankles. The flowing material appeared to be very lightweight, almost like a gauze, and was paneled at regular intervals before ending in a slightly ruffled hemline. A pale blue camisole and sandals completed the look, and her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She wasn't wearing any makeup, with the exception of lip gloss, unless he was mistaken.

"You are beautiful," he whispered as she neared and he delighted in the blush that crept up her cheeks.

He took her hand and pulled her to him, before lowering his lips to hers. His guess about her lip gloss turned out to be accurate - strawberry flavored, to be exact. Her lips were soft and warm, and she opened her mouth to allow him further access, her hands tangling in the hair at the back of his head. Brandon deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth to move sensuously against hers and she moaned. The sound seemed to stoke the fire within him so that he began kissing her harder as she pressed herself against him, their breaths coming faster, his fingers now dancing upon the skin of her lower back.

"Ahem, sorry to interrupt," came a voice from their left.

They broke apart grudgingly to face the speaker, who turned out to be a grinning Kady.

Emerson pulled out of his embrace and smoothed her top. "Hey. What's up?"

"I need to borrow your library card," Kady said, stifling a yawn. "I seem to have lost mine, and there's a paper I need to work on this weekend. I figured you two lovebirds would be all wrapped up in each other so I needed to strike early."

Em grinned. "Yeah. Be right back."

She headed into her room, leaving Brandon and Kady alone and he smiled at her. "So how was your date?"

"Oh, it was all right," she answered, shrugging. "I think I drank too much but luckily for us wizard folk, there's such a thing as a Sobering Potion, right?"

He chuckled. "Tell me about it. Em and I have this weird habit of mixing up crazy drinks and actually downing them. We'd be sloshed by the fifth or sixth concoction, then we'd take a Sobering Potion and call it a night. What brand do you use? Our friend, Marc, swears by Sir Abnegaty's but we prefer Pacific. It's milder."

"I like Pacific, too. But this morning I took Sir Abnegaty's, cause I needed that swift kick in the pants. Harvard is no place to be hungover."

Emerson came back into the room, shrugging into a deep blue denim jacket. She handed the card to her roommate. "Here you go. Hey, we're headed to Grafton's. You want to come?"

"I wish, but like I was telling Brandon, I drank quite a bit last night so I'm not really into the thought of food right now. And since I put off working on that essay, I have to do it this weekend. But you two have fun."

"Okay," Em said, hugging her. "I'm gonna bring you back one of those quiches you like so much, just in case you change your mind."

Kady smiled at her. "Thanks, doll." She pulled away and fixed Brandon with a beady eye. "This is a good one. Don't let her get away."

"Oh, I have no intention of letting her get away, trust me," he replied, putting an arm around Emerson, who leaned her head against his shoulder. They said goodbye to Kady and headed out.

It was a lovely Indian summer day, sunny and cool without being chilly. Brandon breathed deeply of the crisp, clean air as he strolled through the college town, hand in hand with his girlfriend. The sidewalks and walkways bustled with chattering young people, all happily taking in the brief respite from their studies. And although his stomach rumbled, he was enjoying the leisurely stroll too much to hurry.

"So, what's Grafton's?" he asked, as they turned onto a cobblestoned street lined with cozy shops and stores.

"Oh, only the best place for brunch in town!" she exclaimed. "Krishna Richards, my lab partner, took me there one Saturday morning and I fell in love as soon as I opened the brunch menu and saw 'Irish Breakfast'. "

He looked at her. "You mean like-"

"Bangers, black pudding, bacon, yep," she said. She stopped in front of a large, grimy-looking building with a creaking sign advertising their destination. "And we're here. We'll be lucky if we can find seats cause this place is really popular on weekends."

Brandon understood what she meant as soon as they entered the restaurant. A wave of sound gushed forward to meet him and his eyes widened at the spread of people arranged in the nooks and crannies of the room, all laughing and talking as they ate. There was a line of people waiting to be seated but surprisingly, the wait was only a few minutes. Once they were settled at a table, Brandon pulled open the menu and saw what she'd been talking about. The Irish Breakfast offering did sound appetizingly familiar but he grinned at what was directly below it.

"Grand Marnier Drunken Brioche French Toast," he read, looking up at Em, who laughed.

"I haven't had it yet, but Krishna says it's good," she said. Then, upon glancing across the room, she broke into a wide smile. "And speak of the devil."

Brandon looked around. A tall, attractive black girl was wending her way through the crowd towards their table. Upon reaching them, she threw her arms dramatically around Em. "Emerson!"

"Hey, Krishna. I was just talking about you."

Krishna pulled away. "Good things, I hope?"

"Only and always, you know that," Em said, and they both laughed. "Krishna, this is Brandon. Brandon, Krishna."

The other woman turned to him, nodding slowly. "So, you're the one I keep hearing about! Nice to finally meet you."

"You too," he said, shaking her hand, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face. He loved the fact that Em couldn't seem to stop talking about him to her new friends. Merlin knew, he couldn't stop talking about her, either, to the point that his brother had once told him to just shut up about Emerson already. His co-workers doubtless shared Andy's sentiments, though none of them had yet expressed as much. Meanwhile, his best friend, Eric Huckleberry, was all over the place with the Appleby Arrows and had thus managed to escape most of the Emerson overdose. But that would, of course, be rectified the next time their paths managed to cross.

"Can I borrow her for a minute?" Krishna was asking.

Brandon looked at Em, not bothering to hide the adoration he felt for her. "Just so long as you bring her back."

He watched the two women walk away, and even over the noise of the restaurant, he distinctly heard Krishna exclaim, "Oh my gosh, Emerson! He's just... mmm... Man Meat!" and heard the delighted laughter of his girlfriend in response.

Brandon grinned to himself. He should feel offended, shouldn't he, that she and her friend were talking about him like he was a slab of beef on a hook. But it would be more than a little hypocritical on his part since he did talk about her like a tasty treat, himself. He sipped at his coffee and people-watched while he waited for her return. The servers zipped efficiently through the crowd, delivering and collecting plates while the delicious aromas swirled all around the room. After a few minutes, he began to get impatient as the hunger pangs stabbed at his abdomen.

Looking around, he finally spotted her halfway across the room, chattering animatedly with Krishna and another woman. As if sensing his gaze, she looked up suddenly and straight at him. He waved slightly and she waved back, before turning to her friends and saying something that made them laugh. She hugged Krishna and began walking back towards him, and he watched her hungrily. The long skirt swirled and swayed about her hips and legs, enveloping her in an air of captivating femininity that caused more than one male patron to follow her progress across the room. Brandon's heart thumped in his chest as she approached and when she sat down across from him, he leaned over.

"I love you in that skirt," he whispered.

She beamed. "Thank you. I got it at Portobello Road. It was ninety-five pounds but I haggled it down to fifty."

"Good girl."

"What can I say? I learned from the best."

He moved her silky ponytail aside to nuzzle her neck. "But want to know why I like you in it?"

"Why?" she asked, sounding a bit breathless.

"Because it makes you look dainty and feminine. You are those things anyway, of course. But I love the fact that I'm the only one who knows that although you may appear to be a demure little miss, behind closed doors, however, you are a wildcat."

Emerson blushed, ducking her head to pick at imaginary lint on his shirt. Brandon raised her chin until he could see her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered and they stared at each other, the noisy atmosphere around them receding to a dull background roar.

The moment was broken by a loud male voice saying "Emerson!" right beside their table.

Looking up, Brandon saw a bloke in a server's uniform and apron, holding a tray of empty glasses. He was smiling down at Emerson in a way that inexplicably rankled Brandon and he knew immediately that he disliked this man.

Em pulled out of his embrace. "Matt! What're you doing here?"

"I work here," Matt said, nodding at his outfit. "My uncle's the manager and sometimes I help out when things get too crazy. Like now, as you can see."

"Yeah, I certainly see," Em said, chuckling. She turned to Brandon and smiled. "Brandon, this is Matt Adler from my Microbiology class. Matt, this is my boyfriend, Brandon Wood."

Matt looked over at him and Brandon saw that the feeling of dislike most definitely was mutual. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," he returned, fighting the impulse to wrap his arm around Emerson again. He was not that kind of jealous boyfriend. Was he?

"So, I guess I'll see you around," Matt said, turning back to Em and grinning broadly again. "Bright and early on Monday for class, right?"

Emerson nodded. "Yep. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

They both watched him go, but with vastly different expressions. Though Brandon tried hard not to show how tense the brief encounter had made him, since Em didn't seem to have picked up on anything untoward.

"-but he's been really valuable to my getting settled," she was saying, before taking a sip of her coffee. "He's really nice."

He looked at her, debating whether to let his feelings known. "Yeah, well. To be honest, I don't like him."

She looked startled. "Really? Why not?"

"Because I can tell."

She frowned. "You can tell what?" she asked, her voice quiet and wary.

Pretending to examine the foil-wrapped pats of butter in the small bowl across from him, Brandon realized it would sound much too juvenile, not to mention possessive, to say "That he wants you but he can't have you because you're mine." So instead, he shrugged and looked up at her, forcing a smile. "Nothing. Now where's that server? I'm starving!"

Emerson's brow was furrowed as she watched him but she didn't push. She sipped from her mug again, then put it down and fiddled with her hands. After a minute, he realized that she was biting her lip in that way that he knew meant she was fighting not to blurt something out and he leaned forward.

"What is it?"

"Uh? Oh, nothing!" she said quickly, but he noticed she didn't meet his eyes. "Oh goodie, the food's here!"

Their meals had indeed arrived and he pushed aside his concerns for the time being. Besides, he would have to have some nerve to try to probe her when he was withholding stuff himself, wouldn't he?

But why did that Matt have to show up and smudge the perfect canvas what had been the weekend so far? Not that Brandon could blame the bloke for being smitten with Em; that showed that, at least, he had good taste even if he was honing in on another man's woman. The worst thing was that Brandon knew there was nothing he could do about it. He certainly couldn't forbid Emerson from being friends with Matt, because number one, he was definitely not that kind of controlling person. And number two, knowing Em, she would probably just tell him to go fuck himself and who the hell did he think he was, anyway, because he didn't get to dictate who she could or couldn't be friends with, and so on.

And she would be right, of course. So it appeared that, for the time being, he would have no choice but to keep his unease about this Matt Adler to himself. Meanwhile, he would be thousands of miles away from her the vast majority of the time, while this Matt got to be in her close proximity, trading notes, cutting up small rodents and invertebrates, treating animals at the hospital, because wasn't he the same bloke who had gotten Em her job?

Brandon sighed as he speared a piece of his Drunken French Toast, swirling it in maple syrup. He was being unnecessarily pessimistic, though, wasn't he? Surely he wasn't that insecure. Emerson loved him and he didn't doubt that. But still-

"Want a bite?"

He looked up. She was holding out a forkful of eggs, smoked salmon and tomato. He leaned forward and accepted it. His eyes drifted shut as he savored the delicate flavors that nevertheless exploded in his mouth. The eggs were delicious and the salmon added just the right touch, while the creamy hollandaise sauce contributed perfectly. "It's really good."

Em smiled. "Isn't it, though? I'm surprised they served it with chips. I was expecting some kind of bread, like a biscuit or an English muffin."

"Well, Americans love their French fried potatoes, don't they?" he said, chuckling. "Try some of this."

He watched her mouth envelope his fork and his gut clenched, recalling how good that mouth was at doing other things. She sighed as she chewed the liquor-splashed French Toast and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Mmm. Tasty," she said, licking her lips. She peered at him. "Oh, you have some syrup on your chin."

Brandon gulped. "Do I? Where?"

"Here, let me." She leaned over and licked the side of his mouth. "Got it." And she kissed him, so lightly that he wondered fleetingly if he'd imagined it. The next second, he had no more need to wonder because she kissed him again, firmly this time. They broke apart slowly and she touched his face, looking into his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered, feeling a bit drunk and giddy. Somehow he knew it wasn't the French Toast. Take that, Matt Adler!

She sat back and stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Brandon, does this ever scare you?" she asked, gesturing between the two of them.

This. He frowned thoughtfully for a second before looking at her. "Only on those days that end with 'y'." She shot him a look but he could see the humor in her eyes. "Only all the time, Em."

"It scares me, too," she said. "I mean, sometimes I'm frightened by the depth and intensity of my feelings, almost like I'm afraid they'll burn me up, literally, if I allow them. This-" she gestured between them again. "-is something I'm so certain of, as certain as I am of my own name. And then I think, how can that be? If we look at it in terms of time, it's only been a few weeks, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," he responded. He knew exactly what she was talking about because he had the same thoughts sometimes. "It's only been a few weeks, so how can these feelings be so profound? So certain? How can it be normal?"

She looked emotional all of a sudden and he reached for her hand across the table. "Maybe it's not normal," she said, quietly. "Maybe we're not normal. But what's 'normal' anyway? Who gets to decide the benchmark that applies to every single person or relationship?"

Brandon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Em. But one thing I do know."

"What's that?"

"You know, this?" he copied her earlier gesture, drawing that invisible line, that connection between the two of them. "I'm in. I'm all in."

Em squeezed his hand that she still held, her eyes filling up again even as she smiled. "I'm all in, too."

He sighed and she sighed, and they looked at each other and laughed a little, dispelling the slightly weepy mood. They finished the rest of their meal and left the restaurant, heading back out into the lovely day. She took him for a walk all over the campus and the city of Cambridge, pointing out places and people and sharing what she knew. They rarely let go of each other's hand and they stopped every now and then to hold each other and snog. Brandon could scarcely recall a more perfect day and he never wanted it to end.

But as always with time, it waited for no man and the rest of the weekend sped by much too quickly for his liking. They went to the "chunky peanut butter on burgers" pub that night with Krishna and her surgical intern boyfriend, laughing and drinking long into the night. Most of Sunday was spent in bed, making love again and again, with increasing desperation as the hour of his departure drew steadily closer. Emerson started crying during one culmination and her tears didn't stop for the rest of the evening.

He didn't want to leave her, but he had to, and finally he extricated her arms from around his neck and staggered into her shower. The warm water stung him down there, and he let his tears mingle with the liquid cascading over him. Of course he wasn't crying from the mild discomfort caused by the relentless, albeit pleasurable, friction that his body had endured. Oh God, how he wished he didn't have to go! How could he leave her? How could he be expected to do it over and over again for the next two years?

That last thought made him cry harder and he leaned his forehead against the cool tiles of her shower, fighting for strength. He had no choice; they had no choice. This was the circumstances that they'd been put in and they were helpless to do anything but make the best of it. All he could do was hope that the pain would get a bit more tolerable as time went on. He had to be strong for her, support her, even though he wanted nothing more than to keep her selfishly with him for all time.

Finally, feeling drained but resolute, he left the shower and returned to the bedroom. He got dressed, trying not to let the sound of her sniffles affect him too much. He put on his cloak, shrunk his bag and put it in his pocket. Then he sat down on the bed and looked at her.

"I have to go."

She nodded, her face crumbling again as she burst into tears. Throwing her arms around his neck, she sobbed miserably. "Oh, Brandon."

He held her fiercely, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened. Once she'd calmed down a measure, he pulled away and cupped her face. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot and her nose was red, but she had never looked more beautiful to him. "I love you."

"I-I love you," she repeated, touching his lips, his eyes, his nose. "I love you."

They kissed tenderly for a long moment before he stood up, their fingers lingering against the other's before at last the connection broke. She sniffled, took a deep breath and tried to smile, even as fresh tears leaked from her eyes.

Unable to drag it out any longer, Brandon touched her face one last time, closed his eyes and concentrated, and was gone.

*******
TBC
*******

End Notes:

1.
Grafton's
is a real restaurant (actually called Grafton Street Restaurant) in Boston, and the menu items mentioned above really are on their brunch menu list.

6. VI

A/N: As always, muchas gracias to my reviewers! Thank you so much. And to Liss for beta-ing. The chapter below is composed entirely of letters. We will return to regular narration in the next one. Enjoy, and please review. Thank you.

VI

October 8th

Dear Brandon,

Can you believe it's been two weeks since we've seen each other? It feels like an eternity! I miss you so much. I treasure the letters we've exchanged since you left, but there's just something about today being Friday that's making me nostalgic. That weekend was such a blast, wasn't it? And we've barely scratched the surface.

Remember when I said I was afraid that if I let them, my feelings would literally burn me up? Let's just say I was afraid a lot that weekend. I don't know if I want us to be this physically attracted to each other for the rest of our lives. At the rate we're going, we'll wear out our hearts before we're forty, even! How long (and often) can the body endure such exertion? It's not unheard of for people to rupture a vessel while sneezing. So imagine how much closer we come to death every time we let passion overtake us. After all, achieving climax is many times more forceful than a mere sneeze, do you think?

Maybe there's an upside to our being apart. I do know that my body has been using this time to recover! I could barely walk the day after you left. Kady wouldn't stop teasing me, the witch. It was all our fault for being such nymphomaniacs and what in the Sam Hill did we expect and, oh screw it, she was so jealous and did you have a brother? I told her about Andy and she got this glint in her eyes when I said he was only eighteen, though. I didn't want to know what that glint meant so I changed the subject by asking her who the heck is Sam Hill. She told a story about a man who ran for public office somewhere in New England in the early 1800's, but wasn't sure if the story was true or not. I bet Ben would love to investigate this. The origin of words and phrases is quite his passion.

I'm glad you liked the CD I sent back with Mum and Dad. Creedance Clearwater Revival was pretty popular back in the day, but then Tina Turner came along and made "Proud Mary" her own, for instance. It does seem more appropriate for her to be singing that song, come to think of it. I always find it a bit peculiar that a band of white men had written that song and performed it first.

It was so nice having my parents here. Kady was in heaven when she met my Dad. She confessed to having a bit of a crush on him, and begged me not to tell my Mum cause, according to her, there was no doubt in her mind that Mum could kick her arse without too much effort. I laughed and said that Mum would probably be more flattered than anything else. It's nothing new to her, anyway. Women had been lusting after her man for decades, and I'm not writing any more about that. It's creepy.

Dad really hit it off with Doc Meriwether, for some reason. Maybe because they're both slightly wacky and thoroughly obsessed with their respective subjects. It's quite a hilarious image, trying to visualize Dad talking about Quidditch to him, though. I can just see Doc tugging on his scraggly salt-and-pepper beard and gazing at Dad like he'd gone plumb 'round the bend.

Mum and I talked a lot. I'm so glad that she and I have such a great relationship. Maybe it's because I went away to boarding school so that during those tumultuous teenage years, she wasn't around to get on my nerves or I on hers. When I managed to go home for holiday, we were all just too happy to see each other to let rebellion cause too much of a ripple.

Talking to my mother, I just came to realize how much I admire her. I want to emulate her in so many ways. She has been through so much, but most people don't really think about it. Especially since she's with my Dad, who is the Harry Potter, of course. It's like, everything in the world that could possibly happen has happened to him. So how can anybody else stand out? How can anybody match him? But in some ways, Hermione Granger more than matches him - she surpasses him. It feels a little strange to write her as Hermione Granger, but she still is that person, even though her last name is Potter now.

And that's how I want to be. I want to still be me, to have accomplished things in my own right, separate from my mate. So that even as there would be no doubt as to how solid a team we are, I will still be Emerson Potter. I will still have retained my identity, my sense of individuality.

I think that's what scares me most about our relationship, the fear of losing myself so completely in what we have that I cease to exist in some way. Mum understood what I meant. She said that after Hogwarts, after they'd defeated Voldemort, she was so frightened when she realized that she couldn't recall one instance in her life after age twelve that didn't somehow involved my Dad or Uncle Ron. It was like she wasn't so much Hermione as HarryRonHermione, three physical people but one entity. That was something that helped fuel her quest when she set out to establish herself and her career, to truly find something that she enjoyed that was hers alone. And now... we all know how much she's succeeded. I think Dad knows how much it means to her, and he's so proud of her. When they meet new people, if the person doesn't recognize him on sight, he lets Mum introduce herself first and then he just says "I'm her husband, Harry."

Brandon, I can't tell you how much it means to me that you're so supportive of my being here. It was so hard letting you go, especially after this first visit, and I thought I would never leave my bed again. I thought I would never stop crying, would just keep going until I had used up every ounce of liquid in my body and be discovered mummified under my covers. But once I calmed down, I realized that this was for the best. We would see each other again, and meanwhile, we would pursue our dreams - those dreams that are unique to the both of us. We both love what we do, and we're so lucky to have discovered them so early in our lives. Some people have to search for decades before they realize what they truly want to do with themselves. We already know and are taking the steps to get there.

Heck, you're already doing it, and from what I hear, you're indispensable already! Why else would they be giving you so many assignments? Where is it they're sending you this time? Vanuatu? What language do they speak there? I'm so proud of you, my Odie, and I love you so much that water comes to my eyes when I think about it. We're on the right track, I just know it, even though sometimes it doesn't seem that way. Especially at night, when I'm lying alone in my bed and your absence hits me so hard in the gut that I can hardly breathe.

I usually let go and cry then, knowing in the back of my mind that with the daylight, reassurance will return again. Something about mercies that never come to an end, and are new every morning. I think that's a Bible verse, actually, but it applies in this case. My belief in us and our viability is renewed every morning, even if, in the loneliness of my bed in the dark, I question the wisdom of what we're doing.

You're probably half asleep by now, bored shitless by my wannabe philosophizing. Is that even a word? Haha! Ben would hex me if he knew how I'm mutilating his precious English language!

I'll let you go now. But, even in your deepest, darkest moments, never forget: I adore you, Brandon Wood. I am all yours (except when I'm mine. Sorry, couldn't resist, hehe).

I love you,
Emerson

*********

October 10th

Em,

I know what you mean about these past two weeks feeling like an eternity. We're going through withdrawal, if you will. We binged that weekend and this is the crash. And the Friday nostalgia is understandable too because we do have a long history connected to that day. For one, if you were here, we'd have had lunch with Davis and Carolyna as was our custom.

In a way, I think it's even harder watching those two now. Before, I'd be sitting there wishing so much that I could act with you the way those two act with each other, look at you like that, touch you like that. Kiss you like that. Now I can -- except for one thing: you're not here. Let nobody say fate is without a sense of irony.

Regarding the level of our physical attraction to each other, I have to respectfully disagree. I hope we never slip from this notch. Hey, I'm a bloke. I'm supposed to want as much sex as possible, and I do. As long as it's with you. I promise to slow down sometimes so you can keep up, har har. Bet you'd just love to smack me right now, eh?

I'll refrain from mentioning the glint in Kady's eye to Andy; no telling what ideas he might get. He made the reserve team at Puddlemere, did I mention? I'm almost as pleased as he is cause it means, among other things, that my insane, slave-driver Quidditch Captain persona from Hogwarts is still alive and kicking. You never know when he might need to resurface, though the effect would surely be ruined by the taskmaster dancing to a bunch of white men singing "Proud Mary".

Next time I come over, I must meet the Doc. Maybe he can give me some pointers on how to get back on your Dad's good side. Oh, it's nothing, really. It's just weird because we'd always gotten along well. Until you and I started dating and I began getting spooky vibes from him. I don't think he likes me very much anymore. Or maybe I'm just being paranoid. All blokes feel weird around their girlfriends' fathers, regardless of how long they've known each other, I reckon. Don't worry about it or anything, okay?

Em, I'm just glad that I can be a source of support for you. Not that you'll ever be lacking in those because you have so many people who love you. I'm proud to be one of them and even more than that, I'm completely giddy that I'm the one you chose to give your heart to. I'm so in love with you that sometimes I want to break out in song and dance like a raving nutter. But then I remember that I can't sing worth a damn and my dancing skills leave very much to be desired.

I would never want you to lose yourself in what we have. I fell in love with you, your sweetness, your toughness, your light. Even after almost ten years of friendship (can you believe it's been that long?), and especially with our new relationship, I'm still amazed by you. I'm still learning more about you. I'm still falling. And I think the more I learn, the more I fall and I don't want it ever to stop. You'll be Dr. Potter at the end of this chapter in your life and I'll proudly be your trophy mate. I'll be your kept man, if you'd like, and I promise that I would definitely earn my keep, har har. Rolling your eyes, aren't you?

You're right about us being lucky to have already discovered what we want to do with ourselves. I have the best job in the world, getting to travel all over the, well, world. Getting to visit all these countries, helping to form and solidify Quidditch alliances. Yeah, we're bloody fortunate, we are. They're sending me to the island of Nauru this week. Already went to Vanuatu last year. Nauru is in the same general vicinity, though, in the south Pacific, two thousand or so miles south of the Hawaiian islands. This is their first real effort to join the Quidditch Federation so it's a pretty big deal to me that I'm the one the bosses are sending down to handle it. That level of faith is such a huge lift, know what I mean? They trust me not to make a royal muck-up of things, which is incentive in and of itself to not do so. The people of Nauru speak Nauruan officially, but also English. I've been learning the official language but I'm not very good yet.

I miss you. There's so much I want to tell you. More than anything else (well, except for one thing. Three guesses and the first two don't count), I miss hanging out with you. I miss our long insane chats. I miss popping my head into your fire just to borrow a disc. I miss our evening jogs, bickering with Ahmed the corner vendor over the price of his bottled water. Remember that time the two of you tried to set me up with his cousin? What was her name again, Fatima? Aren't you glad your efforts didn't succeed? Cause if they had, I'd probably be quite ensconced right now and you wouldn't be getting any loving. Not from me, anyway. I'm a one-woman man.

But luckily for us both, that scheme fell through and I find myself writing long letters instead. Who would have thought? I'm the one usually found running his mouth, but here I am pouring it all out on parchment. I wish I could hold you every single night so you wouldn't have to cry yourself to sleep. It's hard now but all we can do is hold on to our love, even when it seems like we're needlessly torturing ourselves. Just think, we'll see each other in two weeks and then, before we know it, it'll be November, December, Christmas. Keep your eyes on the prize, your dream, and the huge accomplishment you will have earned at the end of all this.

And I could never be bored by your letters. How could I when they are suffused with so much of what I love about you? You just keep doing what you do and don't ever change. I love you, Emerson. I'm glad that you're mine, which is a great relief because I'm thoroughly and utterly yours.

Brandon

P.S. Philosophizing actually is a word. I checked. Love you.

********
TBC
********

End Notes:

1. If anyone cares, an explanation about the "Sam Hill" expression can be found here:
Sam Hill Legend

7. VII

A/N: As promised, we return to regular programming. Hope its length makes up for the (much) shorter previous one. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, and also to Lissanne for beta-ing. Please review, and thank you.

VII

November 25th

If there is one thing that never changes, it is the behavior of time. Ever noticed how in a moment, when one tries to imagine the wait between now and some point in the future, it seems to be so many eons away and how on earth will the wait be survived? But then, before you know it, you're at that once-distant point and the tune had been changed to "Where on earth did the time go?"

Perhaps it was because she was so busy lately, but Emerson could hardly believe it when she realized that she was firmly in the month of November. Wasn't it just this morning that she'd been bellyaching to Brandon via letter about the conclusion of his September visit? And now it was November and there was no need to send any letter because he was here, in the flesh.

And what addictive flesh it is, too, she thought, ducking her head so he wouldn't see the blush that heated her cheeks at the thought. He would probably get ideas if he saw and they'd already used up enough time as it was.

She was in the process of packing a weekend bag. To her delight, her grandparents, Herb and Enigi Thomas who lived in Dallas, Texas, had invited her down to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with them. She'd pretty much forgotten about Thanksgiving anyway, which was understandable as it was thoroughly American and she was primarily British. She'd had a moment of panic upon learning that Harvard intended to virtually shut down for the holiday, because where would she go? She didn't want to go home to England, not with Christmas being just around the corner and so much work for her to do before then. Em honestly feared that if she went home before the allotted time, she would be distracted from course and would never be able to muster the strength to leave again.

And that would never do.

Brandon's visit had been coming up and he'd suggested they could just wile away the time together, even though the college town would be virtually deserted.

"Or I could get a Portkey from work and we could go somewhere, anywhere in the world that you'd like. The Nauru people liked me; said I could come back any time."

It had sounded very appealing but the problem was that all her professors had left huge amounts of homework assignments, most of them due within the week after the holiday. Em knew it would be very difficult to focus on her work if she was lying on a white sand beach in the South Pacific. And she couldn't afford to fall behind, not when there was so much she was trying to undertake. The slightest delay would surely mean that her stay away from her family would drag beyond two years.

And that, as well, would never do.

So it had been a huge relief when the letter had come from her grandparents, inviting her to spend the holiday. This was the best course of action, she was certain. Em was looking forward to seeing them, not having done so in almost a year. This would also be a good way to experience the full measure of a true American holiday. Although she rarely thought of herself as such, she was American, after all. At least by birth, and that was far from being a bad thing. Additionally, this way she wouldn't have to leave the country and thus be tempted to cling to her loved ones and not return, shattering her dream in the process.

"Bet you're looking forward to seeing Lyna, aren't you?" Brandon said suddenly.

Emerson smiled. "I am. I haven't seen her since I came here, which is a long time to go without my best friend!"

"It was nice of your folks to invite her," he commented, coming over to lean against her desk.

"Yeah, they're cool that way. Besides, they've always liked Lyna, ever since she visited them with me the summer before our second year at Hogwarts. And this'll be their first time meeting Davis."

"And me."

She looked up at him, her eyes softening. "And you. Are you nervous?"

"Not really, no," he said, shrugging slightly. He walked over and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. "After your father, I imagine anybody else is a breeze."

His tone was light and playful but Em frowned. Was her father giving him as hard a time as she suspected? The two men had always gotten on well, what with being as consumed by Quidditch as they both were, as well as the longstanding professional and personal relationship between the two families. But Em couldn't forget the look she'd seen her father give Brandon shortly after they'd begun dating. With knowing Brandon as well as he did, couldn't her Dad put aside whatever fatherly uptightness he might have and cut Brandon some slack?

Her face must have shown some of her thoughts because Brandon touched her cheek. "It's nothing, Em, really. Don't worry about it."

"But I don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "He likes you, I know he does. Does he think he has to act all intimidating and forbidding, even with you?"

Brandon grinned. "Probably. Hell, if you were my daughter, I'd be suspicious too, even if I'd known the bloke since he was in nappies." His grin faded as he gazed at her and the look that was creeping into his eyes sent a tingle down her spine. "I'm glad you're not my daughter though, because the thoughts I'm having about you right now would make for a decidedly icky situation."

He kissed her and she kissed him back, even though she knew they really shouldn't, since their Portkey to Dallas would be leaving in thirty minutes and she still hadn't finished her packing. His hands wandered down her back to cup her bottom and she felt his erection pressing into her belly. Her body clenched in anticipation and she moaned as his lips wandered to her neck, nipping and caressing lightly.

Gasping, she put her hands on his chest. "Brandon, we shouldn't. I have to-"

His lips captured hers again, cutting her words off, and she shivered when his fingers danced over her skin, pushing her shirt up. Emerson closed her eyes, knowing she was losing the battle. She wanted him, even though she'd already had him twice since he'd arrived two hours ago. But how could she deny him? He brought her to life, he turned her on, invigorated her so that her love for him swelled throughout and seeped out the pores of her skin. Her body ached for him; they could always take a later Portkey, couldn't they, and-

But Lyna and Davis are expecting you to be there when they arrive. And what about your grandparents? You can shag Brandon after you get there, can't you? It's rude to make others wait just because you're feeling randy.

The thought made her open her eyes and, with supreme effort, she pulled away. "Brandon."

"Mmm?" He was deftly unhooking her bra.

She reached up to halt his progress. "Brandon, go sit on the bed."

His eyes darkened even as he grinned at her. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now, don't move," she said, reclasping her bra hooks and smoothing her shirt. "I need to finish packing because the Portkey leaves in under thirty minutes and you're distracting me."

"But-"

She took a deep breath, picked up a blouse and resumed folding. "No. You're not getting any."

"I already did."

"My bad, as Krishna would say. I meant you're not getting any more."

He laughed. "Okay. You're right. You have people who want to see you and I gotta admit that it'll be really ace to see Eric again. He's been practically sequestered in Asia with the Arrows."

Emerson looked over, puzzled. "Eric who?"

"Eric Huckleberry, my best friend from Hogwarts?" He chuckled. "Though I can see why you wouldn't remember him. I have trouble picturing the bloke myself; it's been so long."

"Of course I remember Eric," she said, impatiently. "But what do you mean it'll be ace to see him?"

"Well, he'll be at the ranch this weekend."

Em gaped. "What ranch? My grandparents' ranch?"

"Yeah," he said, looking bewildered. "Didn't I tell you-"

"No, you didn't," she interrupted incredulously. "I can't believe you would invite Eric to the home of people who are strangers to you!"

He stood up and gave her a cold look. "What're you implying? Because for your information, I had your grandparents' permission to invite him."

"You did?"

"Of course I did," he snapped. "Do you think I'm so lacking in social graces that I would do something as uncouth as that?"

Em squeezed her eyes shut for a second, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply... that. But why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry. I thought I had," he replied, shrugging.

His nonchalance annoyed her and she turned back to her packing without another word. That done, she shrunk the bag and put it in her pocket before walking over to her desk to scribble a note to Kady. Her roommate would be leaving later that night to spend the holiday with her own grandmother, but was stuck in classes at the moment. Em hadn't had a chance to say goodbye so this was the next best thing. Closing her eyes for a moment, she began to write. Brandon came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders.

She felt a surge of irritation and shrugged him off. "Do you mind?"

He looked surprised, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry."

Ignoring him, she finished the note and placed a modified Honing Charm on the parchment. That way, if her roommate entered with another person, the note would stay put until Kady was alone. No use alarming the Muggles.

Em brushed by her boyfriend and into the living room, where she placed the note on the dining room table. After tucking her wand into her cloak, she fiddled with the clasp so she could avoid looking at him. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding wary. They headed to the door but before she could open it, he stopped her and peered into her eyes. "Hey, you mad at me or something?"

"Gee, whatever gave you that impression?" she replied coolly.

The confused look on his face morphed into one of irritation. "Why don't you just tell me what this is about? Is it because I invited Eric or-"

"We have to go," she interrupted shortly, tapping her watch.

Not waiting for his response, she pulled the door open and stepped out into the chilly air of the early evening. The walk to the International Magical Arrivals terminal was spent in silence and Emerson fumed. She couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to invite his best friend! This was their one weekend together for the month. It was supposed to be their time together. He could see Eric any old time, if the moron could tear himself away from his precious Arrows long enough.

It wasn't that she didn't like Eric, Em reasoned, as they entered the bustling terminal. She did; he was funny and boisterous. But he was also very overwhelming. He tended to gobble up all Brandon's attention and energy, especially when he had alcohol in his system. He just had such a huge presence that one couldn't help but be sucked in by him, to the exclusion of pretty much all others.

"And then Brandon just sprang it on me like that," Em muttered irritably under her breath as she carried the Portkey, which resembled a relay baton, to a departure booth. "I bet he knew I wouldn't be too keen on the idea. That's why he went behind my back."

She glared at him and he looked annoyed. "Look, Em, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I thought I had."

She didn't respond and a minute later, the Portkey activated. They arrived in a nearly identical booth at the Dallas IMA terminal. Emerson stalked out without a word, heading for the section that dealt with international arrivals. While they waited for Davis and Lyna, she crossed her arms and huffed silently.

"So when is he getting here?"

"Just a few minutes after the Chapmans, I think."

"Right."

Nothing more was spoken until Em saw Davis and Lyna emerging from one of the booths. Her best friend seemed to have spotted her at exactly the same time.

"Emerson!"

"Lyna!"

The two lifelong best friends ran to each other's arms in tears.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so happy to see you!"

"I've missed you so much, Em!"

They hugged for a long time before breaking apart, looking at each other and bursting out laughing.

"How're you?" Em asked, beaming at her friend.

Lyna smiled back. "I'm good. You?"

"Yeah." She turned to her friend's husband. "Davis! How're you?"

He hugged her. "I'm good, Em. How're you?"

The two women linked arms and began chatting as if they'd seen each other the day before instead of almost three months ago, to the amusement of the men. Em was so excited to see Lyna again that she'd pretty much forgotten her annoyance at Brandon.

But it all came rushing back when a booming voice intoned, "WOOD! YOU TOSSER!"

Brandon laughed as he strode over to the tall, ruddy-faced man with the wide smile. Em watched them do that typical male handshake-hug thing and in spite of herself, she felt a rush of love for her boyfriend. Even through her negative feelings towards him at the moment, she couldn't repress the bubble of happiness that formed within at seeing him happy. Did it really matter that he hadn't told her? She could share him, couldn't she?

But I don't want to share him, a bull-headed voice said in the back of her head.

"Emerson!"

She jumped and looked up but the next second found herself enveloped in a bear hug before being set back on her feet and held at arm's length. "My, you're looking mighty fine!"

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Eric. It's nice to see you, though I wasn't expecting to do that this weekend." She shot Brandon a look and he seemed to be gritting his teeth.

Eric looked around and snickered. "Looks like you're in the doghouse with the missus, eh?"

Brandon shrugged irritably. "Shall we head out then?"

They left the terminal and hailed a cab. Em made sure to sit between the door and Lyna. She knew she was being petty but it just irked her so much. Their time together certainly didn't seem to be as precious to him as it was to her.

Lyna nudged her. "What's going on with you and Brandon?" she whispered.

Emerson sighed. "Did you know that Eric was coming this weekend?"

"Yeah, I did," she answered. "Brandon told us at one of our Friday lunches."

"Oh."

Her best friend frowned. "He didn't tell you?"

"Nope. Not until less than an hour ago and it's really pissing me off."

Lyna looked sympathetic. "Well, I can see why it would."

"I can't believe he invited Eric, Lyna! Why not Andy, his brother? Why not Jason or Rupert or one of his other friends? Why Eric? He's just so-"

"Overpowering," Lyna supplied.

"Exactly. I don't want to share him," she moaned. "I'm horrible, aren't I? This is his best friend whom he hasn't seen in a while, but-"

Lyna bit her lip. "Well, look at it this way - he was going to have to share you this weekend. With me, you know. So it's kind of only fair, in a way."

Em sighed and leaned back into the seat. Looking over, she saw that he didn't seem to be doing any agonizing. He was slapping his leg as he and Davis laughed at something Eric was telling them. She sighed again.

The cab moved swiftly through the evening traffic and as they neared the Thomas Ranch, Em's thoughts drifted to her grandparents and she couldn't help but be very excited. The last time she'd seen Herb and Enigi was Christmas of the year before, and it was always such a warming experience being with them. They were just so open and embracing and she adored them.

Both of them were waiting on the front porch with its assortment of mismatched rocking chairs when the cab pulled into the yard. Emerson was out of the car as soon as it stopped, even as they hurried down the steps to meet her. She found herself smiling at the easy familiarity between them, which is typical only between long-married couples. Herb and Enigi were in their late sixties now, but they were still very healthy and strong. Only the silver in their hair really gave indication of their ages and the fact that they were magical also reduced the physical effects of time. Herb still oversaw the day to day operations of the ranch, which had a good-sized cattle herd and was very much self-sufficient. Meanwhile, Enigi handled the domestics of the enterprise.

"Papi! Maman!" Em cried, rushing to them. "Oh, it's so wonderful to see you!"

They enveloped her in their arms and she closed her eyes and breathed them in. They smelled so good, like new bread and fresh hay. After a long minute, they pulled apart and her grandmother kissed her cheeks.

"How're you, darling?"

Em beamed. "I'm doing very well. How're you two? You're looking good!"

Her grandfather chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that endearing way. "Getting by, Brown Girl. Getting by."

His use of his old nickname for her made her feel warm all over and Em hugged him spontaneously. He patted her back, still chuckling. Em pulled away and turned to her friends.

"Papi, Maman, here's Lyna."

"Carolyna! Oh, it's lovely to see you!"

Emerson stood back and watched as her grandparents greeted her best friend. They'd been taken with Lyna from the very first time they'd met her, calling her an "English Rose" of the highest order. Em used to tease Lyna mercilessly whenever that happened, prancing around with exaggeratedly dainty steps and affecting a deep Victorian accent while bowing and curtsying. Lyna would try to swat her but would be laughing too much to ever make contact.

"This is my husband, Davis," Lyna was saying, her eyes shining as she gazed up at him and Herb shook his hand while Enigi oohed and ahhed.

The two young women caught each other's eye and looked away so as not to burst out laughing. Doubtless Lyna was recalling all the "English Rose" instances as well.

"And you must be Brandon," Enigi said, and Em looked up. Her grandmother was hugging Brandon, who was smiling.

"Thanks for inviting me," he said, shaking Herb's hand.

Enigi made a dismissive gesture. "Oh, pish-posh. The more, the merrier, I say. Besides, we've been wanting to meet the man who seems to have so thoroughly captured our Em's heart, haven't we, Herb?"

Brandon's eyes met hers and her heart twitched in her chest. Oh, he had captured her heart, all right. He gave her a small, tentative smile and Emerson started to smile back, but the moment was broken by Eric's loud voice.

"Bloody fantastic place you have here!" he said, pumping Herb's hand while looking all around. "Would it be possible to get a tour?"

Herb laughed. "Of course. After dinner, or maybe tomorrow."

"Smashing!" Eric boomed. "And did you say dinner? I'm right starving, now that you mention it."

Enigi chuckled. "And we can't have that, now, can we? Right this way then, Eric, and we'll get you fed and watered shortly."

Eric bent and kissed her hand, then put his arm around her shoulder. "Lead the way, love."

Most everybody laughed but Emerson, feeling irritated, rolled her eyes as she followed them up the porch and into the house. Her happiness at being back in this warm and familiar place was tempered with annoyance at the way Brandon's friend was imprinting himself on it. Eric never shut up, never lowered the volume of his voice, never lessened the exuberance with which he did everything. He sat down beside Brandon before Emerson, who had been feeling conciliatory, could do so. The chair on Brandon's other side had already been taken by Davis and not wanting to be disruptive, Em just gritted her teeth and took the one across from Lyna. She could tell that Brandon was trying to catch her eye but she ignored him and devoted her attention to her grandparents, answering their questions about Harvard and her studies.

Just as they finished dinner, one of the ranch hands came in to give Herb an update on one of the cows who was calving.

"The calf should be here within another hour, I'd guess," the ranch hand, whose name was Archie said, adjusting his hat. "Everything seems to be going fine."

"So I don't need to come down?" Herb asked.

Archie shook his head. "Nah. We're all set."

"That sounds interesting," Davis commented. "Mind if we tag along?"

The ranch hand looked over and gave him a toothy grin. "Sure. I'm about to head back now, though."

"Wicked!" Eric exclaimed and Archie's grin widened.

Emerson took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second as her friends followed Archie across the room. Why was this bothering her so much? Why was she begrudging Eric the chance to be who he was? This was his personality. Why was she letting it irk her? He was just being himself.

But can't he be himself somewhere else?

"You wanna check it out?"

In her irritation, the words slipped out before she could stop them. "Why don't you ask Eric? I'm sure he would love to go."

She watched Brandon's mouth tighten as a flash of annoyance streaked through his eyes. He stepped closer and leaned his head forward so that, for a second, she thought he was going to kiss her.

But instead, his lips went to her left ear to whisper in a cold hiss, "What the hell's your problem?"

He stepped back and gave her a swift, hard look before turning on his heel and striding away to the door that Archie, Davis, Lyna and Eric had just exited through.

"Brandon-"

The door closed softly behind him, with a restraint that she knew he managed only because he was in the home of strangers, and she wanted to cry. What was she doing? She was pouting over having to share him with his best friend? At the rate she was going, she wouldn't get any of him at all because he would be too disgusted with her to bother.

"Brown Girl." Em bit her bottom lip and looked up at her grandfather. "Come sit with me."

She followed him wordlessly out the door to the front porch and sat down in the rocking chair closest to him. The wind rustled the leaves of the live oak in the yard, while somewhere to the right, a cow mooed. The misery swelled up within and overflowed and she sobbed miserably, sitting on the porch with her grandfather. He didn't speak, only patted her knee reassuringly and once she'd calmed down, handed her a handkerchief.

"Thank you," she whispered before wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. She heaved a great sigh and leaned back in the chair, which creaked and began to rock slowly.

"All right now?"

"I don't know."

Her grandfather looked over at her, his dark skin almost blending with the night while the porch light glinted off the whites of his eyes. "What's going on with you and your young man?"

My young man. Emerson couldn't help but smile for a second before it faded. "I'm so stupid."

"There, now, I highly doubt it," he said gently. "But why do you say that?"

She sighed again, then launched into the story of it all, their long-distance relationship and having only one weekend a month together. Brandon inviting Eric without telling her, and without seeming to have an inkling of how it appeared. Was he tired of her already? Did he not want to spend even three days with her without distraction?

"I mean, what do you think, Papi?" she asked, peering at him. "Am I being juvenile about this?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment before replying. "Well, you were going to have Carolyna here this weekend. And she's your best friend."

"Yes. But she has Davis, too. It's not like she will need to spend all her time with me, or even want to. I just figured Brandon and I would be together as a couple and Davis and Lyna as a couple too. I didn't factor in a big, loud-mouthed clown being with us."

"I understand that. And we can't control what emotions we initially feel about something. But we can control how we handle the rest of it."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it seemed to me that Brandon was trying to make amends just now," her grandfather said. "Wasn't he?"

"I guess."

"He tried to reach out to you and you brushed him off."

Em sighed. "I didn't mean to. That was stupid of me, anyway, because I wanted to see that cow, too. I'm training to be a veterinarian, for Pete's sake. It would've been neat to see from that perspective."

"You're not stupid, Emerson. You're a Thomas, at least partially, and Thomas women are very stubborn." He sighed sadly. "Sometimes to their detriment."

Em looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

He didn't speak for a few moments and his voice was reflective when he did. "Have you ever wondered what happened with your mother and the Brunswick boy?"

My mother? Mum... oh, Julia. "Julia and Logan, you mean?"

"Yes. Julia and Logan. Have you ever wondered why they broke up?"

She frowned. "Yeah, I have. Do you know-"

He nodded. "They were together a long time, y'know. Almost ten years. Started dating when she was fourteen, even though her mother and I forbade her to date until she was sixteen." He chuckled to himself. "Stubborn, that one was. But I wasn't really worried, which is strange for the father of a teenage girl. I trusted Logan, you see. Have known him since he was born, watched him grow up into a fine man."

Emerson leaned slowly back into her chair, listening. She didn't dare shift any more, for fear that the chair would creak and distract him from his narrative groove. The story of her birth mother and her beau, Logan Brunswick, was something that Em had wondered about from time to time but she could never muster the gumption to ask about it, for fear that it would hurt her grandparents. It had been more than two decades since they'd lost their daughter, their only child, but pain like that never really goes away and she didn't want to be the one to disturb the wound.

But now her grandfather was speaking freely about it, of his own accord. So she sat quietly, watching him and listening with rapt attention.

"-two of them had always gotten on well together, almost like brother and sister. But of course they weren't siblings, so it wasn't all that surprising that as they entered the teenage years, those other feelings developed between them and came to light. They were inseparable, those two, completely wrapped up in each other. Oh, Enigi was certain it was only a matter of time before they would marry and she was already discreetly looking into what Cherokee customs Julia might want to incorporate into the wedding. Julia didn't know about that, of course, because Enigi didn't want her to think she was being pressured in any way. But that doesn't mean a mother can't dream, does it?"

He sighed. "If there was any downside to Julia and Logan finding each other as early as they did, it was what happened. Logan became restless. He became frightened because he could see where their relationship was going. He was only a young man and he'd been with the same girl for almost ten years. His eyes began to gaze around. Oh, he never cheated on her, but he began to wonder."

Emerson felt a chill of foreboding. She was certain that she knew what had happened next and her grandfather confirmed it. Logan had broken up with Julia, claiming the need to be certain that they were doing the right thing. And how could they be certain when neither of them had ever really dated anybody else? As her grandfather continued his narrative, Em found herself thinking about Davis and Lyna. They were so lucky, that they'd found each other again! They could have lost it all.

"That happened to Davis and Lyna, Papi," Em said quietly. "Lyna was heartbroken and they were miserable without each other. But they got back together, obviously. Why didn't Logan and Julia?"

Her grandfather smiled ruefully. "That's where the Thomas stubbornness comes in. Julia was hurt. There was no doubt that she loved him still, that she wanted to reconcile with him. But her pride wouldn't let her. He thought he could go out and have his fun and upon finding it not quite up to scratch, he could just prance back to her and just expect her to be free? He had another think coming, and she refused to take him back. She refused to talk to him, refused to even see him. I don't know who she thought she was fooling. The girl was crying herself to sleep every night, losing weight, moping around. There was one cure for what ailed her and she refused to take it, no matter how we all pleaded with her. They were young. We make all mistakes, couldn't she understand that? And she would snap that of course she understood that and-"

He rubbed his eyes and sighed deeply. "She cried a lot those days. It was a horrible feeling, seeing my daughter in such pain but being helpless to do anything about it. Of course I didn't know at the time that that helplessness was only a warm-up for what was to come."

Em reached out and squeezed his hand. "But they at least became friends again, didn't they? Before-"

"Yes, they did. They did eventually become friends again. He wanted her back, of course, but she said they would have to start all over again, go back to being just friends first. And that's what they were. They were friends. Then she went over to London for that conference-"

"-and met my Dad," Em supplied, feeling goose pimples erupting all along her arms.

Herb smiled over at her. "Yes. And you happened. She was so happy, you know? About you."

Em found herself blinking back tears. She was twenty-one years old, not far from the age Julia Thomas had been when she'd found herself pregnant. And not only that, but gravely ill. She couldn't imagine all the emotions that Julia must have experienced, how scared that young woman must have been. Her mother. "How did Logan react when he found out?"

"That she was pregnant? Well, he was upset at first. But he couldn't really dwell on it, could he? None of us could, because she was sick at the same time. And we all loved her too much to occupy ourselves with anything other than trying to help her through the difficult time."

The pain that suffused her grandfather's voice made Emerson's eyes overflow and she threw her arms around him. "Oh, Papi."

He hugged her tight, patting her back as if she was the one who needed comforting. "There, now. There, now."

When they pulled apart, they both wiped their eyes and were quiet for a moment. Emerson broke the silence. "Where's Logan now?"

"Oh, he's doing all right. Lives out west, Washington state. Or Oregon, maybe. Somewhere thereabouts. Married a lovely girl and they have two children now. Or maybe three; I can't remember for sure. He's a Healer, like his folks were. He's all right."

He turned to her and when he spoke, his voice was serious. "If what you have is important to you, don't let your pride get in the way. Don't make the mistake that Julia made, Emerson. Do you understand? If there was one thing she would've wanted you to know, it would be that. Because none of us have any idea what's in store for us. We don't know, so all we can do is make the best of what we have."

Em nodded slowly. "You're right."

He sighed and they were both quiet for a time, just listening to the sounds of the night, the whirring of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the wind. Her grandfather spoke again. "Other than this misunderstanding, how is the relationship? Are you happy?"

"I'm happy," she replied, smiling at him. "I love him. And I know he loves me, too. We have fun; we generally get along great. Obviously I get mad at him sometimes and he gets exasperated at me, especially at how I'm always late."

Herb chuckled. "Well, that's the black part of you showing itself."

"What do you mean?"

"Black people are notorious for being late, aren't we? Some people even say that Jesus Christ himself must be black, because that would explain why it's taking him so long to come back." He laughed to himself before continuing. "I know one person who definitely wasn't black."

Em grinned up at him. "Who?"

"Noah."

"The one with the Ark?"

"Yep. Want to know why I think he wasn't black?"

"Why?"

"Because there's no way he could've been on that boat for forty days and forty nights and not eat them two chickens."

Emerson laughed until she cried, doubled over holding her stomach while her grandfather chuckled beside her. Every time she started to recover, a glance at him would set her off again and she was still laughing when her grandmother came out onto the porch.

"What's so funny?" Enigi asked, looking with amusement between the two of them. She fixed her husband with a fondly suspicious look. "Herb, have you been telling silly stories again?"

He looked at her innocently. "Who, me? Never, Sweetness."

Enigi shook her head, moving to sit on the other side of Em. "I have never known a man for making people laugh like you, Herb Thomas. Why, the number of times I've been frightened that people would choke to death in my house! And it would just be him spinning his yarns."

"It sure charmed you back in the day, though, didn't it?" he said, leaning forward to grin at her.

She dropped her eyes before looking back at him. "It sure did. And it charms me still, even after nearly forty-five years of marriage."

Emerson gasped, her gaze darting between the two of them in awe. "Forty-five years?"

"Forty-five years next month, yes," her grandmother replied, nodding serenely. "We've had our ups, and oh Lord, have we had our downs." She paused and Emerson knew she was thinking about the loss of her only child, the loss of all the hopes and dreams that were wrapped up in that young woman. After a minute, Enigi reached over and grasped Emerson's hand, tears shining in her eyes as she smiled. "And then we went up again. The absolute best thing that came out of that horrible time was you. And all that we had hoped for for Julia, we hope for you now. I'm sorry if this adds a burden to you but we can't help it."

"Oh, Maman," Em whispered, hugging her. "It's not a burden. It will never be a burden to me."

They held each other for a moment and then the three of them sat on the porch for a long time, talking quietly in the night. Emerson found herself marveling at the strange way in which things worked themselves out. If she had gone with Brandon and her friends to see the calving cow, she'd have missed this wonderful evening of bonding with her grandparents, just the three of them without any distractions. Fate had a funny way of operating, that was for certain.

When they finally bid each other good night and went inside, her friends still hadn't returned and it was only then that she began to miss Brandon. Being with her grandparents had served to keep her mind off thinking about him, but now that she was alone, he filled her head again. Now that she was somewhat removed from her initial annoyance, Emerson was definitely regretting her earlier attitude towards him and with the counsel of her grandfather resounding in her head, she was eager to apologize and set things back to rights.

Sighing, she sat down on the bed before jumping up again and heading to the bathroom. She could at least take a shower while she waited for him to get back. When she emerged, however, the room was still empty and feeling a little worried, she put on clean pajama bottoms and a tank top and sat down to wait again. What if he didn't come back? What if he decided to just room with Eric?

It would be her own fault if he did; such a silly little spat. But maybe it would be for the best if they spent the night apart, gave themselves a little more time to expel any remaining irritation at each other. The thought made her sad and in an effort to distract herself, Em went back into the bathroom and began to comb out her wet hair. A sound in the bedroom made her whip around and her heart began to hammer inside her chest as she hurried back. He was standing just inside the room, holding the knob behind him and he looked up when she entered.

They stared at each other for a moment and Emerson felt herself blushing. "Hi."

"Hi," he answered, not moving from the door.

She bit her bottom lip. "I thought you weren't going to come back."

"Just needed to get my bag. I figured you might not want me to be here with-"

"I do want you to be here," she blurted. "I'm so sorry, Brandon. I'm really sorry for how I was acting earlier."

Brandon seemed to visibly relax and his hand fell away from the doorknob. "I'm sorry, too. I should have told you about inviting Eric."

She wasn't aware of moving but the next second she was in his arms and he was holding her so tightly that she could hardly breathe. But that was all right because she was holding him just as tightly, inhaling his scent that never failed to make her heart race. She loved him; she loved him so much.

As if hearing her thoughts, he pulled away and looked into her eyes. "I love you, too."

He touched her face, so gently that tears formed and rolled down her cheeks before she'd even realized it. Brandon brushed them away, leaned in and kissed her. Emerson melted against him with her arms around his neck, a low moan escaping her throat as her senses reeled with the taste of him. His lips were alternately hard and soft, demanding and caressing and she kissed him back, their earlier misunderstanding bobbing away into the distance.

But not beyond the horizon, she realized suddenly and pulled away. She had to let him know why she had been upset; it was the only way to truly sink and dissipate the dark formation that had sprung between them.

Taking his hand, she led him over to the bed and sat down beside him. She sighed before looking up at him. "The reason why I was upset is not so much because you didn't tell me but because you actually invited him in the first place. It just made me feel like the time we manage to have together isn't all that sacred to you."

"I'm sorry," he said, looking grave. "Our time together is definitely sacred to me, Em. When we're apart, I count the days until you're in my arms again. I have never been so happy as I have been since we got together."

She smiled tearily. "Me either."

"I wish we never had to be apart," he continued earnestly. "Do you know how many times I've entertained the notion of quitting my job and moving to Boston so I can be with you?"

"What? Brandon, no! That's-"

"Crazy, I know," he said, grinning. "But I can't help thinking like that sometimes. I'm completely mad about you, Emerson."

She gazed at him, wide-eyed. "I can't let you do that, Brandon, okay? You're letting me have my dream. How can I take yours away? We'll just have to... it's like you said, it will get easier with time, right?"

"That's what I hope, anyway," he answered, rubbing his eyes. He sighed. "I truly am sorry about Eric. I know he can be very-"

"In-yo-face, as Krishna would say," Em supplied with a snort.

He laughed. "Yeah, that. I honestly thought I'd told you. Though come to think of it, I should've known better when I couldn't recall you whinging about it."

She swatted at him and he grabbed her hand and playfully pushed her back on the bed, chuckling. Their play-wrestling quickly gave way to tender kissing and Emerson happily wrapped her arms and legs around him. They snogged for a few minutes but quickly realized that they were both too tired to go any further. Yawning, Brandon stripped down to his boxers while she pulled the covers back and they climbed in and snuggled against each other.

"I love you," Em whispered sleepily.

He brushed her hair from her face. "I love you, too. So much."

Emerson sighed and closed her eyes, feeling warm and safe. Feeling unburdened and secure in the love of the man who held her and in the love of the two people in this house whose blood she shared. How her grandmother could think their hopes for her could be a burden, Em couldn't figure out, because sleep claimed her before she could and when next she woke, the bewilderment was gone from her mind.

It was the smell that woke her, the smell of cooking sausages and the rich doughy aroma of freshly baked biscuits. There was also the unmistakable scent of pumpkin pie, reminding her that today was Thanksgiving Day. Em breathed in deeply and rolled over, to find herself looking into Brandon's brown eyes. He smiled at her and she smiled back, then closed her eyes again as she stretched.

"Mmm, it sure smells good in here, doesn't it?" she murmured.

"Yeah. It looks good in here too."

Her eyes opened and the look in his made her blush. She smiled. "We should head down before Eric gobbles up the whole thing, you reckon?"

He grinned. "Yeah, we should."

They headed to the bathroom and the crackling tension between them, even while doing something as mundane as brushing their teeth, had Emerson's heart pounding. As soon as they stepped into the shower, their plans to hurry to breakfast were forgotten and it was nearly an hour before they managed to leave the room.

Needless to say, Em was in a great mood as she headed down the stairs behind her boyfriend, pulling her hair back in a ponytail as she went. The warm, delicious smells enveloped her as she entered the kitchen and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Her grandmother looked up as they entered. "Oh, good morning, you two!"

"Maman," Em said, going over to kiss her on the cheek.

Brandon did the same, and then they went over to the table, where Lyna, Davis and Eric were already tucking into a Mexican-style breakfast. There were stacks of tortillas, eggs that were scrambled with spicy chorizo sausage and green onions, shredded cheddar cheese, and bowls of homemade salsa. Hot, flaky biscuits were piled on a plate beside an assortment of jams and marmalades and there were pitchers of both orange and pumpkin juice.

"Merlin, I can't wait to have some of this! Hey, Lyna."

The best friends hugged each other in greeting while the two men grunted through their mouthfuls to Brandon.

"Morning, all," he replied, sitting down.

Eric, whose cheeks were bulging, waved absentmindedly and Em smiled at him, all her ill-will towards him from the day before now faded from happiness and afterglow. "Hi, Eric."

The burly Appleby Arrows Beater swallowed his mouthful and grinned. "Morning. Say, you're in a good mood for a change. Seems to me like somebody got some."

Em leaned across Brandon to punch Eric on the arm while Davis and Lyna snickered and her grandmother went into the kitchen, shaking her head in amusement.

Eric moaned dramatically, clutching his arm before turning wounded eyes to Brandon. "You need to do something about your violent woman, mate!"

Brandon put down his glass of orange juice and glanced fearfully at Em. "What, and get my arse kicked?"

Everybody laughed and the tone was set for the rest of the meal. The young people ate ravenously and were not at all stingy with the praise they showered on Emerson's grandmother whenever she bustled into the room, long braid swinging at her back.

"Oh, go on," Enigi said dismissively, but she was looking pleased. "Just make sure you leave room for Thanksgiving dinner later today. We're having turkey with all the trimmings, of course."

"What are the trimmings?" Eric asked, and a long discussion was launched into the food and the history of Thanksgiving.

Em chuckled. "It's not exactly a pro-British holiday, is it? But we've all gotten over it by now. Even Canadians have a Thanksgiving Day, and they're practically British still."

Once breakfast was over, they all cleared the table and carried the dirty dishes and utensils into the wide country kitchen. Their offers to do the dishes were met with mild affront from Enigi, who shooed them out and told them to go find something else to do.

"The kitchen is my domain. Y'all will just get in my way and I have a lot to do before dinner."

Jumping at the chance, the men quickly headed out in search of Archie, whom they'd taken a liking to, but Em and Lyna stayed and tried to get Enigi to change her mind.

"Show us something, Maman, please? Like, what's that you're doing now?"

Enigi sighed, but they noticed her lips were twitching. The young women exchanged grins of triumph. "I'm making stuffing. It's a chestnut, onion and cornbread recipe that's been in my family for generations. First, you cut up the cornbread into little cubes and pop them into the oven for about twenty minutes, until they get dry. While that's working, I'm cooking up the onion mixture."

"What's in it, besides onions, obviously?" Lyna asked, peering into the large, sizzling skillet that was filling the room with delicious smells.

"There's red onions, shallots, leeks, celery and herbs with a little salt and pepper. Once this is cooked, it'll be combined with the cornbread, chestnuts and chicken broth and baked. Some people actually stuff the turkey with the stuffing, but I prefer to bake it separately. It's just a matter of personal preference."

The rest of the morning was spent in the warm kitchen, helping Enigi get the meal underway. Once there was nothing else to stir, chop or whip, Enigi forced Em and Lyna out. "Go have fun."

Em smiled at her. "Okay. Thanks for indulging us. Where's Papi?"

"Out and about all over the ranch, but you'll probably find him somewhere with the cows. He said something about checking on that cow and calf."

Lyna linked arms with Em as they headed out. "That was pretty cool to see, actually. The calving."

"Damn. I wish I hadn't missed it. Did you see the whole thing?" Em asked.

"We caught the tail end of it. It was amazing how that calf could stand within minutes of being born."

Em grinned. "Makes us seem pretty weak, doesn't it? But it's kind of a survival thing for them. Back in the wild days, the young had to be able to walk shortly after being born if they wanted to escape being eaten by predators. We're no longer in the wild, but some things never go away, I guess."

Lyna looked over at her. "How're you?"

"I'm good. I'm really good. Why?"

"You and Brandon seemed pretty ticked off at each other yesterday," she said, as they entered the corridor leading to the cow enclosure. "But it seems to be okay now. Is it?"

Recalling the morning's scorching session in the shower, Em smiled demurely. "Yep. We're okay now. But enough about me. How're you and Davis?"

Her best friend colored slightly. "We're great. We're-"

Em stopped and looked at her. "What?"

Lyna's eyes were bright, her cheeks reddening even more and she bit her lip for a second before answering. "We're trying to get pregnant."

"Oh my gosh! Lyna!" Em hugged her fiercely before pulling away. "Already?"

"I know. It's kind of soon, isn't it?" She sighed. "But I love him so much and I know he loves me."

Em nodded. "He's mad about you."

"And we just- even though we've been married only a year, we've been together for almost eight years. That's a long time and there's just so much love between us that we can't contain it. We have to have someone else to pour some of that love into. I don't know how to say it any better than that."

Em hugged her again. "That's beautiful. You'll be a great Mum."

"Do you really think so?" her best friend asked, looking nervous. "I'm kind of scared. I'm only twenty-one. But at the same time, I'm so certain about this. I have no doubts that I'm ready and Davis wants this too."

"I really hope it happens for you," Em said, smiling at her. "And you had better make me the godmother!"

Lyna scoffed. "As if there could be any other choice."

They looked at each other and laughed before linking arms again and heading into the building. They found Emerson's grandfather and spent the next hour wandering all over the ranch with him, listening to him explain the tasks that he was doing or checking up on. He introduced them to those workers who had voluntarily come in for a few hours, even though it was a holiday, which to Em was definitely a positive indicator of her grandparents' status as employers. Herb let them take turns driving the big hay-baling tractor, which was quite awesome, if a bit fearsome. As they headed back to the cow enclosure, they met up with Davis and Eric, who were looking rather rumpled and muddy.

"What happened to you two?" Lyna asked, wrinkling her nose at the smell they were emitting.

Davis laughed. "We were trying to be cowboys and obviously were not very successful. We're heading back to the house to clean up."

"Where's Brandon?" Em asked.

Eric jerked his thumb in the direction they'd come from. "Still back there. He looks just as frightful as we do but isn't ready to give up yet. Me? I'm done with farm living! Maybe I'll just feed the geese next time. That looks a bit easier."

Herb chuckled as he watched the two men (and Lyna, who had decided to go back with her husband, after shooting Em a wink) walk away. "Actually, it's not that easy to feed geese. They're greedy little beasts and can attack you if you're too slow with the dispensing."

"That should be something to see, then," Em said, giggling. She sobered and looked around. "Papi, all this seems so wonderful, so efficient and self-sustaining."

He smiled at her. "It does, doesn't it? And it will all be yours."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're our only heir. So when we're dead and gone, you'll be owner of all this."

Emerson gaped. She had never thought about it before. "Oh my God."

"Don't worry, you don't have to be a rancher if you don't want to be," he said, putting an arm around her. "You could always hire an efficient foreman to oversee everything, someone who knows how to handle such an enterprise."

Feeling somewhat dazed, she nodded. "I guess so. But that won't be for a long time yet. You and Maman will be around for a good many more decades."

"Ah, Brown Girl," he laughed, patting her shoulder.

They had reached the enclosure and Em giggled when she saw her boyfriend. Eric hadn't been kidding about Brandon looking a fright. His jeans and boots were covered in muddy manure and his shirt wasn't much better. At the moment, he was twirling a rope above his head, obviously in preparation to lasso the yearling calf that gazed balefully at him from across the pen. Em watched him let fly the rope, which caught on one of the young horns emerging from the calf's head. The calf bolted and Brandon was yanked forward, still holding onto the rope. He slipped and slid, trying to get his balance but was soon lying on his stomach in the mud, which obviously wasn't an unfamiliar place to be. It was quite a comical sight and Emerson was laughing so hard that she had to hang onto the gate for support.

He looked over at her and stood up, grinning. "Hey."

She giggled. "Don't quit your day job, Wood."

"Yeah, well," he said, coming over to the gate. He pulled his gloves off. "No chance of you hiring me as a cowboy, is there, Mr. Thomas?"

"I can't rightly say, son," Em's grandfather replied, his eyes crinkled in amusement. "That devil got the better of you."

"He sure did." The two young people watched Herb make his way over to talk to Archie. Brandon turned back to Em and smiled.

She smiled back. "Having fun?"

"Yeah." That familiar glint came into his eyes and he leaned forward.

Em shrank away. "Eww. I don't think so. You're stinky."

"Oh, am I?" he asked, grinning mischievously before grabbing her hands suddenly.

"Odie! What're you doing?" Em exclaimed, trying to pull her hands away. But he held her fast, while reaching down to unlock the gate. She tried harder to free herself as his intentions became clear but he yanked her inside the enclosure and pulled her to the ground. Em shrieked as he rolled her around in the cold mud and muck. "Brandon Wood!"

He laughed gleefully before pulling her up into a sitting position. "There. That excuse is moot cause you're stinky now too."

And he kissed her and when she opened her mouth to protest in indignation, he stuck his tongue in and it felt so good that she stopped fighting and kissed him back. They pulled apart slowly and it took her a few seconds to recall where she was. Brandon was grinning smugly at her and she rolled her eyes.

"There's no need to look so pleased with yourself, you know," she said huffily, standing up and brushing in vain at the mud smeared all over her jeans. She'd left her wand at the house, so a quick Scourgify was out of the question as well.

"Oh, on the contrary, I do believe there is." He leaned over to whisper, "I got to snog you, didn't I?"

In an attempt to hide her blush, Em shot him a look and turned back to the gate. She walked over to where her grandfather and Archie were standing, and the two men seemed to be keeping their faces carefully blank as she approached.

"I'm going in now. Obviously, I need to clean up."

Archie snorted. "Yeah, I can see that. You want to give it another go, Brandon?"

"Nah, I'm done for today, thanks," Brandon answered, coming up behind Em. "Maybe tomorrow."

Em and Brandon turned to go but just then Herb called, "Oh, Merry and her family will be here for dinner. I wasn't sure if Enigi mentioned it or not."

"No, she didn't," Em said, delighted at the news. "Awesome! I can't wait to see her!"

She and Brandon headed back to the house, hand in hand, and Em jabbered on excitedly the whole way. She had always liked Merry, who had been Julia's best friend and who had, over the years, become a good friend of Emerson's as well.

Upon reaching the house, they cleaned up and went downstairs to the living room, where they wiled away the time until dinner in a loud and energetic Quidditch discussion with Eric, Davis and Lyna. About half an hour before dinner, Merry arrived with her husband Dave, her nine-year-old son, Blake, and her daughter, Ella, who had just turned three. Merry, Em and Lyna hugged each other tight and began chatting merrily, just as they had over all those visits over the years. Merry still seemed so young and girlish, even though she was now in her forties. Perhaps it was because her children were relatively young or because she was so petite that that air of perpetual youth seemed to cling to her.

Enigi requested Merry's assistance in the kitchen for a moment, leaving Em and Lyna alone. The two of them leaned back on the couch and watched the going-ons around them. Herb and Davis were deep in conversation beside the dark cherry wood bookcases. Brandon and Eric were guffawing with Dave in another corner, while Blake lay on the rug beside the fireplace, absorbed in one of those Muggle hand held video games.

Lyna grinned. "Remember when he was just a chubby little baby?"

"Yeah, I remember," Em said, smiling over at the tow-headed blond boy. "Now Ella is the baby."

"She's so cute, isn't she? Like a little cherub with those cheeks and those big eyes."

They watched Ella struggling to get something out of a small plastic container that she held. Em was just about to go over and help when Ella stood up and went to Davis, of all people. Em and Lyna exchanged glances and quickly turned back to watch.

Davis looked momentarily surprised to see the little girl tugging at his hand. "Hey, there."

"I can't get this out," Ella said, holding up the plastic container.

"Oh," Davis said, stooping before her. "Let's see if I can do it." He wrestled with it for a moment before plopping out a ball of shockingly pink molding clay. "Here you go."

Ella gazed at him with her huge eyes. "Thank you." She broke off a big piece and handed it to him. "You can have some."

"Thanks," he said, squeezing it in his hand. "What shall I make with this? I know!" He rolled the clay into a ball then squashed it flat into a patty with his palms, and held it out to her. "Ta-da. It's a hamburger."

Ella looked at him with that certain brand of disdain that only three-year- olds can muster. "No, it's Play doh."

Over in the corner where she was sitting with Lyna, Emerson snorted, which set Lyna off and the two of them muffled their laughter in the cushions. Once they'd calmed down, Lyna looked adoringly at her husband, who was acquiescing that of course, Ella was right and what could he have been thinking and he was so silly, wasn't he?

"He'll be a good Daddy," Lyna murmured, almost to herself, blinking back tears and Em reached over and squeezed her hand.

"Yes, he will."

The two of them sighed in unison and giggled before falling silent. Emerson found herself watching Brandon and the memory suddenly popped into her mind of what her little sister, Davina, had said all those months ago. Vina had developed a crush on Brandon, for the main reason that Brandon didn't talk down to her, that he listened to her and heard her opinion.

That's the mark of good parent, I think, Em thought, and her heart hammered. Why am I thinking about this, anyway? We only just started dating. Nothing like that will be happening for a long time.

She knew, though, that there was no doubt in her mind that Brandon was the one for her. He was the one she wanted to be the father of those children she hoped to have at some distant point in the future. He was the one she wanted for her husband, and the thought sent a tingle down her spine.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked over at her and smiled. Emerson blushed at being caught staring but couldn't help smiling back. The moment was ended by Merry coming back into the room and announcing that the Thanksgiving feast was ready.

They all headed into the dining room, where a magnificent spread had been set out. The huge, golden-roasted turkey drew the eye first but arranged all around were bowls and tureens of mashed potatoes with roasted garlic, sweet potatoes, cranberry relish, sugar snap peas with chives ("In lieu of the everlasting green bean casserole," Em's grandmother explained drolly). There were baskets of hot, flaky rolls, boats of wild mushroom turkey gravy and bowls of salad. And let's not forget the chestnut, onion and cornbread stuffing, freshly baked and slightly cooled. Pitchers of iced pumpkin juice and sparkling fruit juices waited at intervals along the way.

Everybody oohed and ahhed as they took their seats around the long and well-laid table and Herb said a prayer of thanks before they all tucked into the meal, which turned out to be as delicious as it looked and smelled. The room echoed with conversation and rang with laughter and Emerson thought again how truly blessed she was. Here were all these people, having a wonderful time with family and friends, while under the table, her boyfriend kept reaching over to squeeze her leg. Her heart filled up with so much happiness, she almost couldn't take it and had to put down her fork for a second and compose herself.

"You okay?" Brandon asked quietly, sounding concerned.

She turned to smile at him, loving him. "I'm great."

He smiled back, then reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. She sighed happily and the meal went on, the savory giving way to the sweet, as pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple pie and rhubarb pie were brought out. Needless to say, everyone was thoroughly stuffed by the end and waddled back to the living room to collapse with contented grunts.

The evening passed quickly and by the time Merry and her family left, Emerson could barely keep her eyes open. She bid her grandparents and her friends good night and went up to her room, where she changed into her night clothes and climbed into bed. Brandon was still downstairs and although she tried to stay awake for him, her eyes slammed shut as soon as her head touched the pillow and she slept, deeply, dreamlessly, peacefully.

Over the rest of the weekend, she managed to finish all the assignments that she'd brought with her, in between trips into Dallas and the nearby cities, visits with Merry at her house and just day to day life on the ranch. When it came time to leave, Emerson felt sad but renewed and recharged. This time with her grandparents and her friends had been exactly what she needed, and she departed with the confidence that whatever might come her way, she could handle it. Because she wasn't alone and she would never be.

At the Portkey office, she hugged Lyna and Davis tightly, but didn't cry. She would be seeing them again in a few weeks when she would go home to England for the first time since August.

Brandon kissed her for a long time, slowly and tenderly, while they waited for his Portkey to be called, nuzzling her neck and whispering sweet words into her ear. "Christmas."

"Christmas," she said, smiling at him.

He kissed her again and a few minutes later, the announcer called the seven-thirty Portkey to London. They hugged each other fiercely before pulling apart and he touched her face.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered. "See you soon."

She watched him walk away and waved when he turned back to look at her. Only when he had disappeared into one of the booths did her hand fall to her side as she sighed and made her way over to retrieve her own baton back to Boston. She arrived at the IMA terminal, found the Apparation spot and was back in her Harvard bedroom within minutes, where she lay back on her bed and smiled to herself. It wouldn't be long now before she would be with her family, her parents and brothers. Her sister. Brandon.

"Christmas."

******
TBC
******

End Notes:

1. Herb's nickname for Em, "Brown Girl", is from a game we children used to play in Jamaica ("There's a brown girl in the ring, tra la la la la...").

2. The Jesus and Noah jokes, about the Ark and the chickens, is by the hilarious stand-up comic, Earthquake. He's on Comedy Central every now and then.

3. The recipe for the chestnut, onion and cornbread stuffing that Maman makes for the Thanksgiving dinner can be found
here

8. VIII

A/N: First off, I must say thank you to all my reviewers of the previous chapter. I appreciate it so much. Please keep it up. Many thanks to Lissanne for the beta. Enjoy!

VIII

December 25th

It was just after dawn when Emerson woke up on Christmas morning and found herself unable to fall back asleep. Feeling faintly disgruntled, she yawned and wrapped her comforter more snugly around herself, giving up on the futile efforts to rejoin the land of Nod. It was all those Harvard early mornings, she was certain. Getting up to add another paragraph or two to an essay; setting her alarm for five o'clock so she could get another hour of studying in for a chapter that most of her classmates wouldn't be encountering for another term, at least. Such was the price she paid for trying to cram a four year program into two years.

Em sighed. It was no wonder her body was so accustomed to the routine she had settled it into. A mere week back at home wasn't going to undo a good four months of conditioning.

Not that she could deny that it was bloody fantastic being home again.

A smile bloomed on her face as she reveled in the happiness of being with those she loved most in all the world. Her whole family, Brandon and Lyna had been waiting at the London IMA terminal to welcome her home. She had fallen into their arms, hugging and kissing and being hugged and kissed and smiling so hard that her jaws ached afterwards. There were no words to describe the emotions that fountained within her at seeing her father, her mother, Ben, Budget and Vina again. It had been a loud, happy group that headed to Corelli's, Em's favorite restaurant in Muggle London. They'd scarfed down plates of tasty Italian food, talking and laughing long into the night so that Vina was nodding off against Em's shoulder by the time they left the restaurant.

And then the week had sped by. Endless cups of tea with her mother or Lyna, conversing animatedly and honestly about what seemed to be everything under the sun. Hanging out with her Dad at his Puddlemere offices, trying not to grin too widely at the way almost everyone still regarded him with wide eyes. Hours spent catching up with Ben; hearing about Vina's first year at Hogwarts. Luke's run-ins with Professor Snape, whom Em was certain would never die but would live forevermore, black eyes always at the ready to catch some Potter descendant up to no good.

Though from the sound of it, Snape will never be able to keep up with Budget, Em thought, grinning at the picture of herself and her siblings that was on her nightstand. The kid is a whirling dervish.

And Brandon. Always Brandon. His laughter, his voice, his arms around her. She was so happy to be around him again without that nagging dread in the back of her head that soon the weekend would be over and he would have to leave. They spent hours cuddling in his bed after making love, talking about absolutely anything and everything. They gleefully revisited their old haunts and hangouts, reminiscing and catching up with the friends they had in each place, Brandon's arms holding her as they laughed.

How she missed those arms right now! Even though they hadn't been able to spend any full night together since she'd been home, they'd still managed to have a lot of alone time, during which they got caught up with each other in the very best of ways.

He wasn't here though, and Em sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes. Any thoughts of staying with him last night, even though it was Christmas Eve, had been rendered moot when her father had said, "You'll be staying here tonight, won't you?"

There'd been something so final about his voice, almost as if his statement was a fact and not really a question. Startled, Emerson had turned to him and blurted, "Of course."

And it was only afterwards that she realized what she'd agreed to. There was no way to back out of it obviously, and when she thought about it, she knew that it was for the best, anyway. This way she could participate in all the Christmas morning traditions that her family had established over the years. Brandon had understood (he had his own family traditions to take part in, after all) and they'd parted for the night after some hungry snogging.

But if there was one thing that wasn't quite "happy-happy-joy-joy" (as Krishna would say) about being back at home, it was the slight tension brewing between Emerson and her father in regards to Brandon. Em couldn't understand it. This tension had never existed in any of her past relationships. Oh, it wasn't always there. It was only when Brandon came around or was mentioned that her father would get that look in his eyes and his mouth would tighten just the slightest bit so if you didn't know what to look for, you would miss it.

She didn't miss it but so far, hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it. Not yet.

"Hey, you. Merry Christmas," came a voice from across the room.

Em looked over and smiled. "Happy Christmas, Kady."

Her Harvard roommate smiled back. "Have you been awake long?"

"Not really. It's much too early to be awake, but hey, it's Christmas."

The two young women smiled at each other and not for the first time, Em felt a twinge of pride in herself for the gesture she had made. She'd invited Kady to spend Christmas with her when, upon returning to school after Thanksgiving, she'd asked Kady about her holiday.

Her roommate had shrugged. "Same old, same old. Not that Nana even knew I was there."

"What do you mean?" Em asked, frowning.

Kady looked at her. "Didn't I tell you? My grandmother had a stroke about two years ago and she's pretty much still paralyzed. Additionally, she's in the middle stages of Alzheimer's disease. It's a Muggle illness of elderly people, where they gradually lose their memory." She sighed. "Nana is at the point where, when she manages to recognize me, she thinks I'm my mom."

"I'm sorry," Em said softly. "Where is she?"

"In a nursing home. She has a lot of rich friends and they're paying for her to be there. Which is great because otherwise, I don't know what would happen. I have no money myself and no idea if my mother is alive or dead. And if she's alive and miraculously got in touch, the chances that she has money are slim to none."

Em stared at her, feeling suddenly overcome with gratitude at how fortunate she was. To have her own huge family, immediate and otherwise. Was Kady planning to do the same thing for Christmas, spend the holiday with someone who had no idea who she was?

"I love my grandmother, Emerson," Kady said, her eyes filling up. "She's the only one who's ever given a damn about me, who's ever believed that I could be something. And besides, the alternative is to spend the holiday here alone and that's just a bit too depressing to stomach, sorry."

"Come home with me," Em blurted.

Her roommate gaped at her. "What?"

Em walked over and grasped Kady's hand. "Come to England with me. You can spend Christmas with us. I know my family would love to have you."

"What? No, I can't do that, Emerson. I can't intrude on such a sacred time. And besides, what about my Nana? I can't just abandon her. I can't."

"We'll go and see her before we leave," Em said, thinking quickly. "We'll buy her presents and take them to her, help her open them. She'll have Christmas, just a week or two early."

Kady still looked uncertain, her eyes still shining with tears. "I don't know."

"Kady, your grandmother would want you to be happy, wouldn't she?" Em asked, squeezing her hand. "She would want you to have a good holiday, with people who care about you. I care about you. And once they're around you a bit, my family will care about you, too. Trust me."

The brunette sniffled, looking up at Em with burgeoning hope in her eyes. "Are you sure? Are you sure it would be okay?"

"I'm sure it'll be okay! We have a huge extended family: the Weasleys, the Lupins, the Malfoys, the Woods. We have people over all the time. You'll love it."

Kady threw her arms around Em. "Thank you."

Smiling at her roommate now, Em knew Kady had enjoyed her time in the crazy Potter household thus far. As she'd expected, her parents had welcomed Kady with open arms and Em's siblings had warmed to her instantly. Kady and Ben had taken to having long, heated discussions about the American stock market and if any thoughts occurred to Em about how on earth Ben knew about capital gains and compound interest, they were quickly squashed. Her brother read so much that he tended to know a little about a lot of things.

Luke and Kady had a strange sarcastic rapport, which had been established on the evening of her first day at Ballynore. Budget and Vina had been bickering about something or other and Kady, looking amazed, had exclaimed, "I can't believe how normal you guys are!"

A brief silence had descended before Luke, distracted from annoying his little sister, commented dryly, "Yeah, imagine that."

Any other person would probably have been mortified at the mild slight but Kady, though blushing, had laughed and lamented her "dorkiness". And the mode of their interaction was set.

Em recalled that the first time she'd met Kady, the thought had come to her that Kady and Lyna would get on famously, and she was right. It was really neat to see her lifelong best friend and her roommate chatting so easily, almost as if they'd known each other for years. The three young women had gone out to lunch more than once, sometimes accompanied by Davina, whose mass of auburn curls Kady couldn't stop oohing and ahhing over. Em was happy that her roommate seemed to be having a great time, even if it meant she couldn't spend nights with Brandon like she wanted to do. But she just didn't feel right about leaving Kady alone at Ballynore, even though the petite brunette had reassured Em more than once that she wouldn't mind.

All in all, it had been a great week and now it was Christmas Day. After spending an hour just talking quietly, Em and Kady ventured downstairs to find both her parents already up and drinking coffee.

"Happy Christmas, Mum, Dad!" Em exclaimed, hurrying over to hug and kiss them.

They hugged her back and Em felt a warm glow when her father touched her cheek briefly and murmured, "I'm glad you're here, Moppet."

Kady expressed Christmas greetings as well and blushed when she was hugged just as warmly as Em had been.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Mum asked, standing up and heading into the kitchen.

Em and Kady followed. "Yep! And stiticky buns!"

"What?" the petite brunette inquired, looking puzzled.

Em laughed and began telling her the story of Luke mispronouncing the word "sticky" as a toddler and thereby launching another Potter family tradition. The four of them were just sitting down to mugs of hot chocolate when the subject of their conversation meandered into the room, his curly dark brown hair tousled from sleep.

"Happy Christmas, all," Budget said, stifling a yawn. "Ah, yes! Sticky buns!"

Kady, looking gleeful, peered at him. "Don't you mean stiticky buns?"

Luke colored and shot his family a disgruntled look. "Well, thanks ever so much."

"You're welcome," Em replied serenely. "You know I love you, don't you, Budget?"

"You have a funny way of showing it," her brother mumbled, but Em could tell he was trying not to smile.

Before too long, the rest of the family had woken up and wandered downstairs, following their noses to the source of the delicious smells that filled the house. The day drifted by in a flurry of traditions: opening presents in the family room, visiting the Burrow to exchange gifts and loudly fellowship with a fruitfully multiplied Weasley clan. The young people had a great time staging an epic snowman battle in the front yard, in which they each built snowmen and charmed them into life. A ferocious war was raged, which quickly disintegrated into mirthful chaos, from which no clear victor emerged because nobody was quite sure whose snowman had been the last one to be relatively intact.

Just before her family and Kady returned to Ballynore, Em and her cousin, Rory Weasley, serenaded the crowded room with a duet of "White Christmas", which earned them raucous cheers and applause.

"I had no idea you had a voice like that!" Kady was still raving ten minutes later as they sat around Ballynore's family room, sipping mugs of hot apple cider. "How come you don't sing more often?"

Em shrugged. "The urge comes and goes."

"You should have been here when she was little," Dad said, chuckling. "She could never shut up." He looked over at Hermione and grinned suddenly. "Remember that song she wouldn't stop singing after her first visit to Dallas?"

Mum laughed. "Home on the Range, wasn't it?"

"It should've been, except she kept messing it up. How does it go again?"

"I'm an Oklahoma girl. It's one of the first songs I ever learned. But I can't sing, so: Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam," Kady recited. "And the deer and the antelope play. Where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not clouded all day."

Dad grinned over at Em, who was pinking up. "If I recall correctly, she was saying, 'Oh give me a comb where the buffalo foam.' " He chuckled again. "She finished it up with, what was it, Hermione?"

"And the skies are not crowded all day," Em supplied sportingly, then sighed. "Can we move on now?"

"Ah-ha! How the tables have turned," her green-eyed little brother said, smirking evilly at her. "Tell the story about the rubber chicken, Dad."

Emerson blushed crimson as her whole family burst out laughing. Crossing her arms with a huff, she leaned back and listened to her father tell the story yet again of her first birthday party and the peculiar attraction she'd developed to a plucked, rubber chicken from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Kady was practically rolling in her seat and Luke was guffawing as he quipped about that being where Em's love of animals had started, wasn't it?

"Oh, sure, laugh it up," Em muttered, but she was trying not to smile. This was the thing she loved best about her family, they were so warm, open and easygoing, embracing what appeared to be everyone and anyone. She loved them so much and this day had truly been almost perfect.

Almost.

Because she hadn't seen Brandon all day. He'd had to spend the day with his family, which consisted primarily of his parents, his paternal grandparents and his brother, all of whom she knew he loved just as much as she loved her own family. She couldn't begrudge him that time with them, just as she knew he didn't begrudge her the time she had with hers. But she missed him so much. She wished he was here, holding her, supplying one more facet of her blessings.

As if in answer to her silent yearning, the Ballynore arrival chimes began to ring and Em's heart pounded in her chest. Somehow she just knew it was him and jumping up from the couch, she hurried from the room, missing the knowing looks that her family exchanged.

He was standing at the designated Apparation spot in the foyer, pulling off his gloves and Em let out a squeal of pure joy. "Brandon!"

She ran to him and he caught her, staggering back a step at her enthusiastic greeting. And then his arms were around her and his lips were on hers and Emerson's knees went weak. Their kisses were alternately frantic and gentle, hands clutching at each other as if to make up for the past hours of separation that they'd endured.

"I missed you," he whispered, dropping a light smattering of kisses all over her face.

She returned the favor, the male roughness of his jawline and chin against her lips sending a jolt of delicious sensation through her body. "I missed you, too." They hugged each other for a long moment. "Did you have a good Christmas?"

"Yeah, I did," he answered, smiling at her. "I don't need to ask the same of you. I can tell."

Em rolled her eyes. "They were just having a rousing crack up at my expense."

"The Great Rubber Chicken Obsession strikes again?" Brandon asked, his mouth twitching in amusement.

"Et tu, brutè?"

He laughed and hugged her to him again. "Well, at least I was actually present at that infamous event so that should take the sting out of it a bit. Your dad telling me the story wouldn't be as mortifying for you as it was when he told it to your earlier blokes."

"That is so true. Oh, before I forget-" she pulled away and searched in a pocket of her jeans for a few seconds before fishing out an envelope, which she held out to him. "Happy Christmas, Brandon."

He took it and leaned forward to kiss her lingeringly. "Thank you." Then, opening the envelope, he removed a long, official-looking strip of parchment. His eyes widened as he stared at it and his voice was incredulous when he spoke. "No way!"

"Way," Em replied, grinning with delight at his response.

"But- how? Every single one of these games is completely sold out! Not even I could find a ticket, and I work for the bloody Department of Magical Games and Sports!"

She smiled sweetly. "Ah, I can't give away my sources, can I now? But this way, you'll get to see one of the most hotly anticipated matches of the season and be able to hang out with that buffoon, Eric Huckleberry."

"I am so giddy right now that I'm going to ignore your cruel jab at my best mate," he sighed, gazing rapturously at the ticket in his hand. He looked up at her. "Thank you, Emerson."

"You're welcome," she answered, blushing a little at the intensity of his gaze. He leaned in to kiss her again and her body, perhaps in an effort to remind her that it had now been almost thirty-six hours since it had last experienced him in that very best of ways, fired up the furnace. She moaned into his mouth as he backed her into the wall, his hand cupping her breast under her top and Em almost forgot that they were in the entrance foyer of her childhood home. She wanted him and if he had begun going further right there, she knew she would've been helpless to protest.

As it was, their modesty was spared when the arrival chimes began to ring again and a second later, Brandon's brother, Andy, was standing mere feet from them. "Crikey, what a sight to arrive to! Get a room, you two."

He strolled away into the house and within a minute, they heard him loudly greeting Ben; the two boys were still the very best of friends. The urgency receding for the time being, Emerson sighed into Brandon's chest and wrapped her arms around him. He dropped a kiss on her head.

"We should go in there, you reckon?"

"Yeah."

Hand in hand, they headed to the family room and the reaction to Brandon's presence was pretty much uniform. Ben and Budget called to him loudly, Kady smiled and waved, Vina blushed while saying "Hi", and Mum gave him a warm hug.

And Dad? There was that look again, vanishing almost as quickly as it'd come but Emerson knew that she hadn't imagined it. He shook Brandon's hand and asked genially if he'd had a good Christmas and what madness had old Oliver gotten this year?

Brandon's grin seemed a bit nervous to Em, which made her feel a twinge of irritation at her father. "Well, as you probably know, he didn't get the one thing he'd really wanted, which was that Brookridge girl for the reserve team."

"Oh, man!" Andy exclaimed mournfully. "I don't blame Dad for being bummed about it. Have you ever seen her play? She's frigging brilliant!"

Ben chimed in his agreement and the conversation was quickly and exuberantly plunked into a lengthy Quidditch discussion. Still puzzling about her father's attitude towards Brandon, Em didn't participate very much, content to lean back and listen with Brandon's arm around her. One thing was certain, she needed to talk to her father. With a quiet sigh, she turned her attention back to the discussion.

"And sweet Merlin, she is so hot," Luke was gushing reverently. "She's like hotness in a hot package full of hot stuff."

Loud laughter.

"Gotta love your eloquence, Budget," Ben said, grinning at his little brother. "But sadly for us, the Wasps snatched her up. And we can be sure that when our teams meet, she'll be coming down on us like Sir Brian against the villagers."

Most everybody chuckled except for Kady, who looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, Sir Who against the who?"

There was a sudden silence before Luke, sounding appalled, said, "Sir Brian. You've never heard of Bad Sir Brian?"

"Erm, no," Kady said.

The gleam that appeared in Budget's eyes made Emerson grin and she knew everybody else had seen it too. Mum, looking amused, leaned back in her chair and lowered the book she had picked up when the Quidditch talk had flared.

"We have to act it out for her," Luke sighed gravely, as if that were a heavily unwanted burden of mandatory behavior. But one would have to be blind not to see how gleeful he really was. "I'll be Sir Brian."

"Aren't you always?" Vina commented, rolling her eyes.

Ben stood up and waved his wand to brighten the lamps. "I'll narrate. Can you make the weapons, Mum?"

"Sure," Mum replied, waving her own wand and within seconds, laid out on the coffee table was a large battle ax and a frightening pair of boots with evil-looking spurs.

Upon seeing Kady's perplexed look, Ben chuckled and began to explain. "Bad Sir Brian Botany is a poem by A.A. Milne, the same bloke who gave the world Winnie-the-Pooh. Our late grandfather, Mum's dad, taught it to us and Luke especially really took to it. One rainy day, we were bored so we decided to act it out and we've been doing it ever since. Our whole extended family knows it now and usually takes part when we stage a production."

Budget was pulling on the boots. "Em, Vina, Brandon and Andy, you're villagers, right?" They nodded and he stood and picked up the battle ax. Upon seeing Kady's alarmed expression, he grinned. "Don't worry. It's foam."

The actors took their positions and after a few explanations regarding the setting of the play and the fact that Mum would be providing sound effects via magic, Ben straightened into a formal pose and began.

"Sir Brian had a battle ax with great big knobs on;
He went among the villagers and bopped them on the head. "

Luke was gleefully prancing among the "villagers" and threatening them with the foam battle ax.

"On Wednesday and Saturday, but mostly on the latter day,
He called at all the cottages, and this is what he said: "

Luke puffed his chest out and stepped forward, battle ax held high.

"I am Sir Brian!" (Ting-ling)
"I am Sir Brian!" (Rat-tat)
"I am Sir Brian, as bold as a lion -
Take that! - and that! - and that!"

The villagers appeared to shriek and yell as Sir Brian's battle ax repeatedly came down on their heads but Em knew that, like her, all of them were camouflaging laughter. Kady of course, being the honored guest of the performance, had no reason to hide her reactions and was nearly crying with mirth.

His hazel eyes twinkling behind his glasses, Ben continued.

"Sir Brian had a pair of boots with great big spurs on,
A fighting pair of which he was particularly fond.
On Tuesday and on Friday, just to make the street look tidy,
He'd collect the passing villagers and kick them in the pond."

Luke, battle ax discarded, strode forward with exaggeratedly high steps, green eyes dancing with wickedness as he deliberately showed off his evil-looking boots.

"I am Sir Brian!" (sper-lash!)
"I am Sir Brian!" (sper-losh!)
"I am Sir Brian, as bold as a lion -
Is anyone else for a wash?"

Vina was openly laughing by now, hanging onto Em as they both were "kicked into the pond". Looking around, Em could see her parents grinning unabashedly at the spectacle before them and Kady was holding her stomach in hysterics.

"Sir Brian woke one morning, and he couldn't find his battle ax;
He walked into the village in his second pair of boots.
He had gone a hundred paces, when the street was full of faces,
And the villagers were round him with ironical salutes. "

Emerson, Brandon, Andy and Vina surrounded Luke, the maniacal grins now adorning their faces instead of his. They grabbed his hands and spoke in unison.

"You are Sir Brian? Indeed!
You are Sir Brian? Dear, dear!
You are Sir Brian, as bold as a lion?
Delighted to meet you here!"

The terrified look that Luke conjured up was so comical that even Ben lost control for a bit and needed a few moments before he could continue.

"Sir Brian went on a journey, and he found a lot of duckweed:
They pulled him out and dried him, and they blipped him on the head.
They took him by the breeches, and they hurled him into ditches,
And they pushed him under waterfalls and this is what they said:"

Needless to say, the villagers were really getting into the groove and manhandling Budget, who was playing the part of the harassed Sir Brian to a T. Obviously knowing what was to be said next, he alternately simulated laughter and tears at his treatment, and the villagers delightedly hurried on.

"You are Sir Brian - don't laugh,
You are Sir Brian - don't cry;
You are Sir Brian, as bold as a lion -
Sir Brian, the lion, good-bye!"

The villagers retreated, leaving a bedraggled Sir Brian standing in the middle of the room. He resolutely pantomimed the next stanza as Ben narrated.

"Sir Brian struggled home again, and chopped up his battle ax,
Sir Brian took his fighting boots, and threw them in the fire.
He is quite a different person now he hasn't got his spurs on,
And he goes about the village as B. Botany, Esquire."

Em, Brandon, Andy and Vina approached Luke again and, looking panicked, Luke blurted:

"I am Sir Brian? Oh, no!
I am Sir Brian? Who's he?
I haven't got any title, I'm Botany -
Plain Mr Botany (B)."

"Bravo! Bravo!" Kady cried, clapping her hands as all the performers bowed and curtsied. "Oh my gosh, that was too funny!"

Everybody chuckled happily as they settled into their seats again, and Emerson was beginning to feel a bit drowsy. It had been a long and fun-filled day. But she couldn't afford to sleep yet because she hadn't yet had what was, in some ways, the very best aspect of love. Glancing over at her boyfriend, she saw that he was deeply engaged in conversation with Ben and she sighed. As much fun as this all had been, she ached to be alone with him now, just the two of them loving each other.

Kady nudged her gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Em answered, then blurted, "Actually, I want to get out of here."

"With Brandon?" her roommate asked, smirking.

Knowing her cheeks were reddening, Em nodded. "Yes. But I'll wait till tomorro-"

"Em, it wouldn't bother me if you left," Kady said, softly.

Em tried not to look too hopeful. "Really? I don't think I should, Kady. You're my guest and-"

"No, Em, I insist," Kady interrupted earnestly. "You've been so awesome to me. How can I begrudge you one night? At least one of us is getting some."

They giggled together for a moment. "Thank you," Em whispered and her roommate waved her hand dismissively.

Just then, Budget looked up and called over, "Hey, Kady. Remember that chess match you owe me?"

"You mean the defeat you can't bear to accept so you keep going for a rematch?" she returned. "Yep, I remember, Little Man. Why?"

Luke pointed menacingly at her. "You are going down. As soon as I take care of something."

"Bring it on, boy-o," she chirped, pointing back at him. Her brow furrowed when he stood up and began to walk out of the room. "Where are you going?"

"Loo," Budget called over his shoulder. "Welcome to the world of the Potters, Kady, where we poop just like everybody else."

"BUDGET!" shrieked Vina, looking revolted, while everyone, save Mum, burst out laughing. Shaking her head, Mum picked up her book again and opened it.

Kady slumped back against her seat, her face red but her eyes were still twinkling with amusement. "He's never going to let me live that one down, is he?"

"Nope," Em replied, smiling at her. "Budget can be very single-minded. But he's a good kid. I think I'm gonna go now, though."

Her roommate smirked. "Okay."

Standing up, Em walked over to where Brandon and Ben were sitting. He looked up at her and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey," she said back. "Seems we'll get to hang out tonight, just you and me."

He must have seen the look in her eyes because she immediately saw it reflected back in his as he grinned widely. "Yeah? Cool."

Brandon stood up while Emerson hugged her brother. Then the two of them walked over to Kady, who was setting up the chessboard for her rematch with Budget.

"Brandon and I are going out," Em said to the room at large. "Kady, you sure about this?"

Kady winked. "I'm sure. I have a score to settle, anyway. But have fun."

"All right, then," Em said, winking back. She leaned over to hug her little sister tightly.

"What time will you be back?"

Her father's voice cut through the room and Emerson straightened up and turned around. The tone of his voice made her both uneasy and annoyed so that Em knew that it was only the fact that her younger siblings and their guests were in the room that prevented her from returning something like, "Whenever it is that I get back."

Instead, she took a deep breath, looked up at him and spoke calmly, "I don't think I will be tonight."

Her father frowned, his eyes landing on Brandon almost accusingly and Emerson's irritation mounted. "Is that a prob-"

"We'll see you tomorrow, then," Mum interrupted quickly but firmly, her eyes on Dad but clearly speaking to Em.

The progress of the tension brewing in the room was restrained a bit and Em gave her Mum a small smile of gratitude, trying to ignore the way her father was glaring at her mother. "All right. Bye, then."

"Good night," Brandon said quietly, taking her hand.

He led her back to the foyer and Emerson was so steamed that it took her a few minutes before she could even focus on Disapparating.

"Your place or mine?" Brandon asked.

"Yours." A second later, they were there and Em flung her bag aside. "Argh! He makes me so mad! Why does he have to act like that?"

Her boyfriend didn't respond, only reached up to unfasten her cloak.

"Thank you," she said, shrugging out of it. "I-I mean, I can understand that he's protective. Fathers are that way with their daughters. But I'm not a child anymore. I go to college a continent away, for God's sake!"

"Well, I imagine he's nervous for you, what with our relationship being so serious all of a sudden," Brandon mused.

Em scoffed, plopping down on his sofa. "Oh, please. He's known you since you were in nappies! What could he possibly be nervous about?"

Brandon sat down beside her, running a hand through his thick hair. "I think it's more the fact that we're, you know, sleeping together that bothers him."

"Why should it bother him? That's so hypocritical! I bet he was screwing around a lot more when he was my age! At least we've known each other all our lives and are in love. He just doesn't want me to grow up, like I'm going to be his innocent little Moppet forever and ever."

"Come here," he said softly and she went to his open arms and settled against him with a sigh. He held her for a long moment, not speaking. Reaching up, he released her hair from its ponytail and gently kneaded her scalp with his fingertips. "Don't let it upset you so much."

"I know. It just hurts that he doesn't seem to trust me. And if he has something to be nervous about, why doesn't he just talk to me about it instead of going around giving looks?" She sighed, her eyes drifting shut as the gentle fingers continued to massage her scalp. "Mmm, that feels so good."

He tipped her head to one side and nipped at her neck. "I can make you feel even better."

Em smiled, opening her eyes to look at him. "Show me."

He stood up, took her hand and led her to his bedroom and Em resolved not to think about her infuriating father any more. Of course, once Brandon kissed her, that task was immediately accomplished. Brandon's kisses always drove her mind blissfully free of anything unrelated to him and the goodness in store for them both. And once they'd cast a contraceptive charm (which they were using as a backup since Em knew that the Estralevon Potion was due to expire any day), they collapsed on his bed, eagerly undressing each other.

For the next hour, nothing else existed but him and trying to show him how good she could make him feel. Fulfilled at last, they slumped against each other, breathless and trembling. Em snuggled weakly against him, listening to his heartbeat gradually return to normal as he trailed his hand slowly up and down her arm. He sighed and she felt him settle more into his pillow.

"I love you, Brandon," she whispered.

He smiled and lightly kissed her nose. "I love you, too. Go to sleep."

Em closed her eyes, intending to do just that. A small sound reached her ears, however, and she opened her eyes again. After a minute, she decided that she must have imagined it but then she heard the sound again, louder this time. It sounded like- but how could that be? Brandon didn't have-

"Brandon?" she whispered, nudging him. "Did you hear that?"

"No," he mumbled. "Go to sleep."

But as if sensing that it had an audience, the noise came again and Em sat up. "Brandon, I think there's a cat in here. Can't you hear it mewing?"

"Oh God," he groaned, pushing the covers off and sliding out of bed. Grabbing his wand, he lit some candles and stumbled away naked as the day he was born, muttering about insatiable women who wore him out and then wouldn't let him sleep.

Em grinned as she watched him. He had a rather cute bum, she noted for the umpteenth time, and such a strong well-muscled back. She loved his body, all of it, and not just because it had introduced her to the true joys of her own. His hands, his long, athletic legs. His eyes, so expressive and deep, with flecks of green and gold enhancing what would otherwise have still been a pleasing brown. His nose that had once gotten broken during a Quidditch practice in his final year at Hogwarts. His lips, so full and well-shaped, which could turn her knees to water with a single kiss. The lips that dedicatedly suckled her breasts, as if truly expecting to receive nourishment from them. And then, more often than not, those lips would wander downwards to work their magic between her legs, until she was screaming and clawing at the sheets. Or whatever surface she happened to be upon.

Oh, and there was his smile. Nothing quite melted her like his smile.

He was coming back, hiding something behind his back, and she let her eyes wash slowly and appreciatively over him before they returned to his face. She grinned. "What do you have there?"

"Your Christmas present, which I was too distracted to give to you earlier. Sorry," he said. He brought his hands around and flashed her that smile that she loved. "Happy Christmas, Em."

"Ooh," Em cooed, kneeling on the bed as she gazed at the tiny, soot black ball of fuzzy fur that Brandon held in both hands. "Oh my gosh, he's so cute!"

The kitten, who had huge gray eyes, mewed loudly.

"Oh baby," Em whispered, taking him. She cuddled him to her and he began purring so hard that his little body visibly quivered. "Aww, I like you, too."

Looking up with shining eyes at her boyfriend, she simply beamed at him and he chuckled. "Just thought it was about time the vet got a pet. Your Mum helped me get permission for you to keep him in your dorm at Harvard."

"Thank you, Odie," she whispered, kissing him lingeringly. "So much."

He climbed back onto the bed and they both lay down again, this time with the kitten between them. Perhaps deciding that the arrangement was a bit too confining for his tastes, the little fur ball began wiggling in Em's hands and she put him down on her other side. Smiling, she watched him stumble on tiny, wobbly legs to the edge of the bed and curl up into a ball.

"Look at him!" she gushed.

Brandon snorted. "In this light, he looks like a blob of axle grease on the edge of my bed."

Em laughed, then looked up suddenly. "That's what I'm going to call him."

"What, Axle Grease?" he asked, looking at her strangely.

"No! Just the first word, but I'm going to spell it A-x-e-l," she said, grinning. "You know, as in: And if I stared too long, I'd probably break down and cry. Sweet child o' mine. Sweet love of mine."

He reached out and touched her cheek, his eyes adoring her. "I love when you sing."

Em blushed, and silently resolved to sing for him more often. "Thank you. But what do you think of the name?"

"Well, I imagine it's a pretty cool honor to be named after such greatness."

"My thoughts exactly," she said, giggling. She turned back to the kitten. "Axel."

The sooty kitten raised its head, looked at her and mewed quizzically.

Em was delighted. "See! He knows his name. Axel, come here. Come here, Axel."

Axel mewed again and wobbled back to her hands and Em was utterly in love with him. She cuddled him to her bosom, kissing his tiny head as he purred happily within her embrace. His front paws kneaded her breast for a few seconds before he, apparently finding something familiar, startled Emerson by trying to latch onto her nipple. She squealed and held him away from her, then began to laugh.

Brandon was pretending to scowl but his eyes were laughing too. "Hey, pal. I'm the only one allowed to do that. Understand? Bloody womanizer."

Axel just closed his eyes and rumbled even louder. After a moment, Em and Brandon lay down again, he yawning hugely. "I'm knackered."

"Me, too," she replied, stroking Axel's forehead. "Does he have food and water?"

"Of course. They're in the corner over there. His litter box is a little ways away and he's already trained."

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he yawned. "Come sleep."

Em sat up and placed Axel back at the edge of the bed where he'd gone to before. Laying down again, she snuggled up with the man she loved, who put his arm around her and promptly fell asleep. It took her a little while to follow him though, because her mind was whirling with all that had happened that day, all the good. And the bad.

She just needed to talk with her father the next day, that was all. This simply could not be put off, could not go on any longer. The decision made, Em exhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes, another Christmas Day now a memory to be treasured always.

Being thoroughly worn out by their exertions of the night before, both she and Brandon slept late and upon waking up, were quickly consumed by each other again. They lost track of time in the shower and it wasn't until the water abruptly turned cold that they, she shrieking and he laughing, hurried to get out. They made breakfast and lavished attention on Axel, who seemed determined to position himself atop the table and share their meal.

"Where'd you find this glutton, Brandon?" Em asked in mock exasperation, after plucking the fuzzy ball of fur off the table and depositing him on the floor yet again. The kitten mewed mournfully at being thwarted.

Brandon chuckled. "From a shop in Diagon Alley. He's part Kneazle so he'll be even more of a handful than a regular kitten."

"Thanks a lot," she commented dryly, but she was lowering her fingers to the floor so Axel could eagerly lick them. "Maybe it's the kneazle in him because normal cats generally don't eat stuff like maple syrup, which is what he's licking off."

By the time they finished the meal and managed to clean up, it was after one o'clock in the afternoon; they'd kept getting distracted.

"What're you looking so smug for?" Em asked her boyfriend when they finally made it back to the living room.

He was smiling in a very self-satisfied way and looked over lazily through half-lidded eyes. "Well, it was a fantasy of mine to take you from behind against the kitchen sink. And now I have."

Emerson blushed. "For God's sake."

She stood up and began shrugging into her cloak, trying to hide how pleased she was. It always thrilled her that he seemed to want her so much. Of course she knew they were young and it was normal for men his age to be very randy, but that didn't make it any less gratifying. Every woman wants to be desirable to the man she loves and Em knew she was no exception. And his desire for her made her desire him all the more herself. Of course it didn't hurt that he was so damn sexy.

"I'm heading over to Ballynore now-" she began but gasped when his arms came around her waist. He pulled her back against him and when he spoke, the warmth of his breath against her ear made her shiver deliciously.

"You loved it, though, didn't you?" he whispered. "It excited you that I couldn't even wait for you step out of your jeans and knickers; I just fucked you with them bunched around your ankles. That's why you got so wet so quickly. You protested but you were backing into me, weren't you?" He squeezed her nipples through her shirt, making her gasp. "And you came before I did. Didn't you?"

Em nodded, her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths coming faster. "Yes."

His hands wandered down and he began undoing her jeans again, all the while whispering wicked and naughty things in her ear. His hand slipped into her knickers and she moaned when he found her. His other hand touched her face and turned it until their lips met and she kissed him back as he stroked her, first one finger then another sliding into her, rocking and rolling while his tongue plundered her mouth. His lips wandered to her neck, nipping and sucking as his fingers worked her faster, the pressure building like a heavy load within her lower belly. She cried out when she came, standing in the middle of his living room, his hand buried down the front of her jeans, the other caressing her left breast as she shuddered against him. He held her until she calmed, then his hand left her and he zipped and buttoned her jeans again.

Turning her to face him, he kissed her flushed cheeks, her forehead, her nose and finally her lips. "I adore you, Emerson Potter."

She looked at him with tears in her eyes and had to swallow hard before she could speak. "And I adore you, Brandon Wood."

They kissed tenderly for a long moment before pulling apart. "I'll see you tonight," he whispered.

Em nodded, picked up Axel and, armed with his love and prepared to defend it against anyone, even her own father, she smiled at him and Disapparated.

The arrival chimes had barely faded before she was pounced upon by Davina, but her little sister's attention was almost instantly captivated by Axel, who began purring and just being generally cute like the little attention hound (or was it kitty?) that he was.

"Oh my gosh, Em! He's just the cutest thing I've ever seen!" Davina exclaimed, cuddling the rumbling fur ball.

Em smiled. "Yeah, well, don't get any ideas. I'm not giving him away. And don't give him any food, Vina, no matter how much he cries. He's very greedy and I don't want him to get sick."

"Okay," Vina answered, then began cooing to the kitten as she carried him into the family room.

"Where's everyone?"

Her sister plopped down on the floor, undid the ribbon holding her hair back and began dangling the colorful strip of cloth at Axel, who pounced and swatted at it. "Ben, Budget and Kady went to Diagon Alley for something or other. Mum's in her office and Dad's either with her or in his office. Yay, you got it, Axel! Good job!"

Smiling to herself, Em headed to her mother's office. The door was open and Mum looked up when she knocked on the jamb. "Hi. Can I come in?"

"Of course!" Mum said, standing up to hug her tightly. "How're you?"

"I'm very well," she answered, sitting down. She bit her bottom lip for a moment. "How's, you know, everything?"

Mum looked at her closely. "You mean, what happened after you left last night? Nothing."

"Nothing?" Em asked, frowning. "Dad looked pretty ticked off when I left and I was definitely pissed at him myself. It's good that you nipped it like you did."

Her mother chuckled. "That's true. The two of you can be very bullheaded and the trick is to head it off before it gets too far. But really, there's nothing to worry about; the evening wasn't ruined. Kady once again firmly trounced Luke at wizard chess and he went to bed in a temper. That's about it."

"Did he?" Em grinned. "It's strange how they get along, isn't it? Almost like she's an older version of-"

"Davina," Mum supplied with a smile. "Yes. He and Vina bicker all the time and now he and Kady bicker all the time. I think the image is helped by the fact that she's so small, even though she's your age."

Em sighed. "Thanks for embracing her, Mum. I didn't doubt that you all would, or I wouldn't have invited her. But it means so much to her, I know. She's virtually an orphan."

"I know. When I first met her, she reminded me a bit of Harry," her mother said thoughtfully, looking over at the picture on her desk of a young Harry Potter, who was beaming with his arms around a waving Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. "That same lost quality in their eyes." She looked up at Em and smiled. "Of course, your father doesn't have that look anymore."

My father. "I need to talk to him, Mum."

"Yes, you do. He's in his office."

Emerson didn't move for a time, just stared at the picture on Mum's desk, hesitating. She needed to clear the air, to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was bothering her father, and yet... she was nervous. Looking up, she blurted, "Do you know what-"

"Go talk to him," Mum interrupted gently, but in a tone that left no doubt that the matter was closed. She leaned over and squeezed Em's hand. "Just get it over with."

Nodding, Em stood up and headed to the door.

"Emerson?"

She looked back. Mum was smiling at her.

"I'm making lasagna for dinner."

Em smiled back. "Okay."

She climbed the gleaming marble stairs slowly to her father's office, her heart pounding within her. Once there, she stood staring at the mahogany door for a moment, took a deep breath and knocked. Upon hearing his voice say, "Come in", she opened the door and stepped inside. A rush of all sorts of memories came to her, the earliest of which consisted of her as a preschooler in her father's arms, pointing at the stars through the wide windows that overlooked the back porch and asking, "Daddy, who lights them when they go out?"

"Ah, I've wondered the same thing myself, to be honest," he'd answered, rubbing his chin. "And I've wondered where to find the missing bits of the moon when it's not round."

Her eyes had widened as she'd gaped at him. "Me too, Daddy! And how do birds know how to build nests? Their mummies and daddies show 'em, I reckon, but who showed the first bird? And why is the grass green? Why isn't it purple? I'd have made it purple."

He'd laughed and hugged her to him. "My Moppet."

Blinking back tears at the memory, Em looked over at him. He was sitting behind his desk, a roll of parchment forgotten in his hand as he looked back at her. For a long minute, they just stared at each other and Emerson found that even though he could make her so mad, she loved her father dearly. He was Harry Potter and his name, his image, his scar still commanded incredible respect in the wizarding world and always would. But he wasn't that, he had never been that to her or her siblings. To them, he'd always been just Dad, the man they all more or less secretly worshiped and whom they strove so hard to please. She admired him so much, all that he had endured and overcome to become the man he was.

The two of them had always had a very close and easy relationship, and she hated this rift that had been building between them ever since August. She needed him more than ever, she realized, his support, his approval, his love.

"You can sit down."

His voice broke her out of her reverie and she walked over and sat on the chair across from him. Em stared at her hands for a minute, taking deep breaths before looking up and blurting, "Dad, how do you honestly feel about me and Brandon dating?"

His eyes clouded slightly behind his glasses. "I'm fine with it. I've known him all his life, watched him grow up into a fine young man."

"Then what's the problem?" she cried. "Ever since he and I got together, there's been this... thing just mushrooming between you and me. I-I don't like it."

"I don't like it either," he said softly and his green eyes, identical to hers, were troubled.

Emerson found herself blinking back tears again. "I love him, Daddy. I never thought I could love someone so much."

Her father stood up abruptly and walked to the window, which he stared out of for a second before turning back to her. "That's what scares me."

"Why?" she asked, frowning.

"I don't want you to get hurt." Em opened her mouth but he held up his hand. "Let me say this. I know what it's like to be in love like that. I understand. And loving in that way, that freely and deeply, leaves you very vulnerable." He sighed, walked back to his desk and sat down again. "I remember the names of every single one of your boyfriends," he said, changing tack.

Em colored slightly and rolled her eyes. What did that have to do with anything? "This is different."

"I know," he said. Smiling slightly all of a sudden, he continued. "Since before you could even walk, almost everybody who met you would wish me luck for when you grew up, saying that I'd be beating the blokes off with a stick. Ron even commented once that you'd grow up to be a real heartbreaker. And you did."

Feeling her face heating up even more, Em ducked her head. "Dad, you're embarrassing me."

He chuckled then sobered, a pained look crossing his features now. "But I also remember how you cried every time one of those relationships ended. I hated that I couldn't do anything to ease your pain."

"You did," she whispered, blinking back her tears. "Just by being there, you did help, Dad."

He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "But you recovered. You always did, because none of them was the kind of love or the depth of feelings that's involved now." He paused for a second. "You know, I think a part of me knew it would happen eventually."

"Me and Brandon?" she blurted in surprise. Mum had essentially echoed Dad's statement when Em had first talked to her about being with Brandon, and even Vina had picked up on Brandon's feelings long ago. Was it really that obvious? And how could she herself have missed it?

He was nodding. "Yeah. I could see it building between you two for a long time, but I think another part of me didn't want it to happen. At least, not yet." He frowned suddenly. "That's why I'm not too happy with Wood these days. I think it was selfish of him to proposition you when he did."

"What do you mean? He didn't proposition me!"

"Confessed his feelings, whatever," Dad said impatiently.

Emerson gaped. "Dad, he'd waited seven years to tell me how he felt!"

"Exactly. So what was two more? You were going away to college; you would have a lot on your plate. Why couldn't he wait a little longer?"

She stared at him, feeling upset, perplexed and annoyed all at the same time. "I can't believe you would say that, especially when you and Mum went through almost the same thing, with having feelings for each other but keeping them inside. You know how horrible that feels and yet you expected Brandon to have done it anyway?"

"Just for a while. Look, I know that sounds cold towards Brandon," he said, leaning over the desk, his eyes heavy. "But you're my daughter. I have to think about your well-being first and foremost. And I just worry that you're trying to do too much, with this four-year program in two years and now, on top of that, you're trying to maintain a long-distance relationship. I just wanted you to have lived a little more, be a bit more mature, be a bit older, a bit wiser before... this." Upon seeing her slightly hurt look, he hurried on. "Not that I don't think you're mature, Emerson. But you're still young and nobody can be too wise. I guess I was just hoping that you would discover yourself a little more before you found that one person."

Em sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I understand. But I did discover myself, Dad. I'm discovering myself even now, going away to college so far away from you all. But even beyond that, I'm discovering even more about myself through Brandon. I've never been as happy as I've been since he and I got together. I love who I am with him. I love how he makes me feel."

Her father cleared his throat loudly, becoming suddenly fascinated with a quill on his desk and Em blushed as she realized how that last sentence must have come across. "I don't mean it that way! Though I do love- I mean-" Both of them were coloring now and Emerson suddenly scoffed. "Honestly! We're both adults here. Dad, Brandon and I are lovers and I'm not ashamed of that fact. There's nothing wrong with expressing love-"

"Nothing at all," her father interrupted. "Next point?"

She gaped at him for a moment before starting to laugh, while his eyes twinkled at her from across the desk. After a while, she sighed. "What I'm trying to say is I know who I am. You and Mum have raised me so well that I could never ever forget myself if I tried. But you've also taught me to not just let life pass me by; that I need to actually live it. And I wouldn't be truly living if I passed up a chance at love just because the risk of getting hurt is there. Anything worth having comes with a risk."

She looked up to see him smiling at her and was startled when he took his glasses off to wipe his eyes. "You're all right," he said, sounding rather choked up.

Em smiled. "I'm more than all right. I'm happy."

"And that's all I've ever wanted for you, your brothers and sister - your happiness." He stood up and came around the desk, and Em jumped up and threw her arms around him.

"I love you, Daddy."

He squeezed her tightly. "I love you, too. I'm sorry I made you worry."

"It's okay," she said, pulling away and gazing up at him. "You were just being a father. But Dad, could you at least talk to Brandon, let him know you're okay with us being together? Just to put his mind at ease?"

Her father's brow furrowed. "Now why would I want to do that? I must remain the mysterious and intimidating Harry Potter so they don't get fresh with my daughter, don't I?"

Em rolled her eyes. "There's no they this time! Brandon used to call you Uncle Harry, for Pete's sake. But of course he's picked up that you aren't too fond of him anymore, which really concerns him. Although he tries to convince me that it's no big deal, I know he's worried."

Dad chuckled and hugged her quickly again. "I'll talk to him. You staying for dinner?"

"Hell, yeah," she replied, pulling open the door and leading the way downstairs, from which loud voices were drifting up. "Mum's making lasagna and nobody makes lasagna like my Mum."

"And it's Boxing Day, so don't forget we're going to Woodhaven later," Dad said, speaking of the Potter family's annual tradition of spending the evening after Christmas at the Wood family estate.

Em smiled up at him. "Excellent. You can talk to Brandon there." Her father mumbled something under his breath but Em ignored it and linked arms with him. "Come meet my kitten. He's my Christmas present from Brandon."

They spent the next few hours talking and playing with Axel, who was in heaven at all the humans worshiping him, which was their sole purpose for existing anyway, as far as he was concerned. Em and Budget set the table and everybody happily headed to the dining room. Dinner was delicious, long and leisurely and was occupied by rousing conversation about music, particularly Guns 'n Roses, and the many bands that had been influenced by that particular band. The conversation drifted to Muggle weapons (guns) and then to capital punishment in the United States, of all things. It was also periodically punctuated by someone or other plucking a soot black kitten off the table and onto the floor, where it protested loudly for a few minutes before trying to scale the table again.

"I mean, my state has the hardest line on capital punishment, doesn't it?" Em said, plopping Axel onto the floor yet again. "Texas executes more people that most of the other states combined. Papi was talking about that over Thanksgiving."

Kady nodded. "It's true. Oklahoma borders Texas but the stance on capital punishment is a bit laxer. Usually, it's a state like California that puts more people on death row, but they never seem to get around to the actual 'death' part."

"Papi was talking about that too, about how some states are trying to do away with the death penalty while Texas is trying to put in an express line, where certain crimes make you 'jump ahead', so to speak, on the execution list. The message being sent is basically 'If you come to Texas and kill somebody, we will kill you back.'" She took a sip of her pumpkin juice and looked over at her father. "What do you think of that, Dad?"

Dad sighed. "Well, every case is different, and I can certainly see their point. At least those people don't have to face anything as foul as a dementor."

He and Mum exchanged looks and not for the first time, Em sensed that they were recalling a world that she would never know, and which they had faced death more than once to ensure that she, Ben, Budget and Vina would never know. That all the many nameless, faceless generations to come would never have to endure the horrors that they had.

And yet, the world will never be really free of horrors, Em thought, putting a squirming Axel on the floor again. As long as there are people, newer, scarier and more horrible things will pop up. That's just the way it is.

But she was feeling too full and warm and safe to dwell on such depressing thoughts and they quickly fled her mind. Her evening was very relaxing at Woodhaven and it was made even better by the sight of her father and boyfriend conversing quietly in one corner. The two men talked for a long time and shook hands before they parted, and Em caught Mum's eye and smiled.

Yes, everything would be just fine.

Of course that sentiment began to leak away as the days sped by and before she knew it, it was the beginning of January and she would have to return to Boston, to Harvard and her studies. Em found herself trying to squeeze the most out of every day, especially with Ben, Budget and Vina, the latter two returning to Hogwarts the evening before she and Kady would go back to school. Vina cried in her big sister's arms and Em was teary-eyed too, promising to write to her as much as she could. She hugged Budget and told him to give old Snape a break, couldn't he?

"Yeah, right," Luke replied, smirking and they both laughed. Then he turned to Kady and hugged her too. "It was nice to meet you. You're like another big sister. A more annoying one, though."

"Well, thanks," Kady said, with a little laugh but Em knew she was touched. "Have a good term."

They watched the Hogwarts Express pull away, waving until it sped out of sight. Then they all Apparated back to Ballynore where Em and Kady went upstairs to finish their packing.

"Why is it that your stuff fits when you first pack but when you're packing to leave, it never does?" Kady asked, struggling with her suitcase before giving up and shrinking everything to fit. "Thank goodness for magic, that's all."

Em and Brandon spent that night together (which was only their second overnighter since she'd been home), talking, making love and crying. "I already can't wait for later this month," she sniffled into his chest and felt him stiffen. Pulling away, she saw that he was staring down at her, looking stricken. "What?"

"I can't believe I forgot to tell you!" he groaned. He grasped her hands. "Em, I can't come over this month."

She sat up, her heart constricting. "What? Why?"

"I'm so sorry. It's work. I'm just booked for every single weekend next month. Two weeks all over this continent - France, Italy, Belgium, here. It's just a lot of contracts with the Quidditch Cup Federation are up for renewal and all of us will be on our feet. And then there's South Korea, Japan, Hong Kong. I'm also penciled in to cover Uganda and Transylvania. It's crazy, and I won't be able to get away."

"I u-understand," she managed numbly, biting her bottom lip so as not to burst into tears.

Brandon looked crushed. "I'm so sorry, Em. I don't know how I'll stand it, being away from you." She started to cry and he hurried on, sounding slightly panicked. "But there's February! Look, I think I can be there for Valentine's Day. Our first one together. What do you think?"

He sounded so desperate that Em tried very hard to compose herself. Succeeding somewhat, she smiled weakly at him. "Yeah. Valentine's D-Day."

"Oh God," he moaned, hugging her to him. "This is insane, Emerson. What are we doing?" She sobbed into his chest and he cried too, both of them quailing at the prospect of not even the one-weekend-a-month lifeboat to look forward to. Instead of two to three weeks before next seeing each other, they were facing five to six weeks of separation.

"I don't want to go back," Em sobbed. "I can't leave you again. I c-can't!"

Brandon pulled away and peered at her, his eyes wet. "You must," he said softly but firmly. "Remember your dream, Em. Remember your practice, the one with two offices, one for the wizarding world and one for the Muggle. Remember the wall like the one at King's Cross that will let you go back and forth between the two sides; the wall that will allow me to spirit the good doctor away sometimes and play with her naughty bits."

She laughed even as tears continued to spill over. "That had better be me you're talking about."

"Only and always," he whispered, almost fiercely. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," she choked before his lips were on hers again, hard and bruising.

He took her desperately and she was in tears the whole time, her nails digging into his shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around him as if trying to absorb his entire being into her. The release was as harsh as their lovemaking had been, so that they both cried out, helpless against the onslaught, and collapsed bonelessly against each other, too wrung out to do anything else but breathe until sleep claimed them at last.

When they parted the next day, she didn't cry. It was as if she had used up all tears, or else was too exhausted to even muster them up. They didn't talk or even kiss very much while they waited for her Portkey, just held each other fiercely, occasionally pulling apart to look into each other's eyes. She touched his face, tracing his familiar features with her fingertips and he closed his eyes so she could touch the lids.

When the Portkey was called, she went to her parents and only then did her tears begin. They both held her, whispering how much they loved her, how proud they were of her and she cried in their embrace. Her parents hugged Kady too.

"Thank you so much for having me," the petite brunette choked out, her blue eyes filled with tears. "Your family is so wonderful!"

Mum hugged her again."It was our pleasure, Kaydia. And you are welcome any time."

Emerson hugged Ben, who would himself be returning to Oxford for his second term. "I'm coming over to see you as soon as I can get away."

"Really?" Em asked, surprised. "That's cool!"

But watching Kady and her brother hug and whisper, she realized that Ben's coming over to visit probably had less to do with her and more to do with her roommate. There was no time to think about it, though. Not now.

Em and Brandon spent one last minute holding each other. "Write to me."

"I will," he answered, looking deeply into her eyes. "I will."

"I love you, Odie," she murmured against his lips, as the final Portkey announcement came over the loudspeaker.

They pulled apart reluctantly and Em smiled as best she could. There was no more time to linger and she and Kady hurried towards the counter to collect their baton, turning back one last time to smile and wave before they entered the departure booth. The Portkey activated less than a minute after they'd entered the booth and she emerged from the Boston terminal feeling emotionally, physically and mentally drained.

Somehow, she managed to muster up enough concentration and energy to Apparate into her dorm room on campus. She hugged Kady tightly for a moment, accepting her roommate's tearful gratitude before heading to her room and shutting the door. Kicking off her shoes, she found presence of mind enough to set out Axel's food and water bowls, as well as his litter box, before shrugging out of her jacket, falling onto her bed and immediately passing out.

She slept heavily and deeply, fully clothed, with the fuzzy black kitten curled up at the top of her pillow, his warm weight a comforting caress against her head.

*******
TBC
*******

End Notes:

1. Corelli's, Em's favorite restaurant, is actually here in the city where I live. It's special to me because it's where my husband proposed :)

2. The instances where Budget says "...hotness in a hot package full of hot stuff." and "Welcome to the world of the Potters...where we poop..." are adapted from comments that Zac and Ike, respectively, of my favorite band (Hanson) made at some time or the other.

3. As I said in the chapter above, Bad Sir Brian Botany is a poem by A.A. Milne, the same guy who gave us Winnie-the-Pooh.

4. Obviously, Axel is named for Axel Rose of Guns 'n Roses; and the lyrics that Em sang are from their "Sweet Child O' Mine"

9. IX

A/N: As always, muchas gracias to my reviewers of the last chapter! In case you haven't noticed, I've been utilizing the Author Response feature to reviews, so check it out if you'd like. This chapter is all letters. We return to regular programming in the next. Thanks to Liss for beta services and being an awesome friend! Enjoy.

IX

January 14th

Dear Emerson,

How're you? Hitting the books with a vengeance, I hope. Because the harder you work, the better your results will be and the sooner you'll have achieved your goals. Or at least that's what they tell me. I haven't quite decided if they only say that to make me bust my arse for them.

It was so awesome to get your letter. I was grinning like a complete moron and couldn't stop sniffing the parchment, trying to pick up your scent. I think I did cause my heart began pounding so hard, I thought people could hear it downstairs. God, I miss you!

I'm all right. Things are absolutely insane here. All these countries up for renewal of their contracts and all of them want to be served at once. It's like they have some idea that the order in which their matters are attended to is somehow indicative of how important their country is. They couldn't be any more misguided. It's strictly a first come, first served kind of thing. But of course there are the arrogant ones who saunter in at the eleventh hour and yet expect to be placed at the head of the line. And when you tell them that it doesn't work that way, the temper tantrums are a sight to behold.

Like I said in my last letter, I've been all over the continent. I spent one night in Paris, the next in Rome and right now, I'm sending this from Berlin. It's a tad dizzying but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying myself. I'm getting to meet some very interesting people, occasional tantrums aside, and something I've noticed is that if you're able to converse with them in their native language, they're much more warm and open with you. I guess it gives them a sense of security, not having to leave their own tongue.

Good on you for getting such excellent marks! It certainly sounds like your professors are impressed. I can't imagine how confusing it must be for you, not to mention difficult, going to all these classes at all these levels. You're doing a program in the first year and the second, all at the same time. So you're learning the basics and also more than the basics, all at once. If that didn't make any sense, I apologize. I'm confused right now, I admit.

I'm sorry this is so short but I'm scribbling this before dashing out to a dinner meeting with the German Quidditch officials. There's no way to tell how long the meeting will drag on so I'm grabbing the chance now while I can. Tomorrow, it's off to Brussels and who knows when I'll be able to next catch my breath. Don't worry about the owl finding me; it will. And if I don't reply right away, don't worry about that either. I will as soon as I'm able, okay? I miss you so much and can't wait for next month when we can be together again.

I gotta run. Give Axel a tummy scratch from me and know that I love you.

Always,
Brandon

**********

January 16th

Dear Brandon,

Wow, it certainly sounds like you're trying to be Phineas Fogg! Around the World in Eighty Days, monsieur. I'm glad you're having fun, though. You're so lucky to have such a neat job and I'm so proud of you.

I'm all right, but I've been feeling a bit rundown lately. Just really tired, like I need to take a nap all the time. Of course there's no time to be doing that cause, like you said, I'm trying to do two levels of a program all at the same time. Sometimes I wonder if it isn't a mistake to be tackling a four year program in two years. And besides that, I'm working at the animal hospital. I love working there but lately, the smells have been making me queasy. Must be because I'm tired, because it's never bothered me before. I'm sure it'll go away soon, which it had better cause the smells are part and parcel of being a veterinarian.

And Axel! Brandon, I swear this cat is going to eat me out of house and home. He consumes absolutely anything edible and I'm not kidding. The other day, Kady and I caught him trying to get into a can of beer! And there's this thing he does with cups and bottles; he'll go up to them and knock them over with his paw and then lap up whatever is spilled. You have no idea how many Scourgifys I've been performing lately! You're probably laughing right now and it's not funny. Oh, who am I kidding, it's funny (though not in the moment) and I'm always picking him up and cuddling him within minutes of scolding him. Which is probably confusing to him, like "So, should I knock stuff over or shouldn't I?" I'm sure he'll just do what he wants, anyway. He's a cat.

I'm so glad that you gave him to me. He's so affectionate and it's like he understands when I talk to him. And the other day I was crying in bed cause I missed you so much and he just jumped onto the bed and rubbed his face against mine, like he was trying to comfort me. He's a sweetie pie.

But I'm okay. Hey, did I tell you about my suspicions that there might be something going on between Kady and Ben? It's just a feeling I had, when he told me at the Portkey terminal that he'd be coming over to visit as soon as he could. But then I saw him and Kady acting a bit too cozy for mere acquaintances. I haven't questioned her about it cause it's really none of my business, but I'm curious. What do you think? Did you notice anything?

I'll let you go now, Mr. Fogg. I know you're very busy traveling the world and far be it for me to hold you up in your adventurous pursuits! Just know that your lady friend in Boston, Massachusetts loves you and will be very pissed off indeed if Valentine's Day rolls around and you haven't alighted at her doorstep. I am so looking forward to it, it's not even funny. Be careful or else I'll send Axel to eat you into poverty and he is more than capable, let me tell you. It'll require both our combined incomes to keep him fed, I fear.

Write me back when you get a chance. I love you, my Odie.

Yours,
Em

***********

January 19th

Em,

Blimey, Axel drinking beer! What're you subjecting that poor cat to? Though from the sounds of it, he's got you wrapped around his furry paws and knows how to get his way. Come to think of it, that bloke at the pet store did sound rather eager to hand him off... he was probably racking up the grocery bills trying to feed our little glutton.

I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Make sure you get plenty of sleep, all right? It's not worth it to overwork yourself because that takes away from the quality of work that you're able to do overall. If you feel it's too much to be handling your course load as well as holding down the job at the animal hospital, maybe you should think about taking a break. I'm sure Doc Meriwether will be happy to have you back when you have a bit more time and energy to devote.

Have you mentioned this to your parents? If not, want me to? Your Mum might want to send down some of your favorite foodstuff. Some chicken soup, for instance. It's no secret, not even to Muggles, that chicken soup has magical properties, especially if it's been made with love. It might help you feel better.

This is another short note. I have a shitload of paperwork to translate and organize and another round of traveling coming up. It's the first night I've spent in my own flat in more than a week and I'm leaving again the day after tomorrow. So I have to get these done because there's no doubt that I'll be returning with a fresh pile and I don't want a backlog of any sort waiting for me when I get back.

Regarding Kady and Ben, no, I didn't really notice anything. I was too focused on you and wallowing in self-pity about you leaving me. Sorry. I'm sure Kady will mention it if it's anything significant.

Get some rest, all right? I can't wait to see you! The one upside to being so busy is that the time flies by and every day that gets crossed off is one nearer I am to being with you again. I love you, Em.

Brandon

********

January 21st

Dear Brandon,

Well, I can't rightly blame the bloke at the pet store for being eager to hand Axel off! I think the fact that I'm a magical zoologist, as well as in training for a veterinarian degree, is the reason why I'm so obsessed with what he eats. I know how easily he could get sick, because he's still so young. He doesn't need all the things he thinks he needs.

As for me... I'm not really feeling any better. I'm still tired, still nauseous quite a bit. But now I know what the problem is, which is a bit of a relief, I guess. All that worrying before was making it worse but now that I know... I'll tell you more when I see you. Don't worry about me, okay? And nah, don't mention it to my parents. They'll just launch into overreaction mode and I don't think I can handle that right now. I'm trying to get as much sleep as I can and drinking lots of fluids so I don't get dehydrated from all the upchucking.

I think it's a good idea what you suggested, about taking a leave from my job for a while. The smells at work do seem to aggravate me a lot more lately. It would be better for everyone concerned if I stayed away until I'm a bit better, I think. Will talk to Doc as soon as I get a chance.

Send me your travel information as soon as you know, all right? I'm trying to plan my whole week before you arrive, so I can get as much done as possible and thus have maximum time to spend with you. I don't want any assignments or anything weighing on my mind or interfering with our time together. I can't wait to see you and I love you so much. I miss you (every single part of you) scandalously.

Love,
Emerson

*********
TBC
*********

End Notes:

1. I forgot to credit Ron "Tater Salad" White from the Blue Collar Comedy Tour with the part in the last chapter that talked about capital punishment in Texas. In particular, the line about Texas putting in an express line, and "If you come to Texas and kill somebody, we will kill you back!" Rock on, Tater Salad!

2. I did once know a kitten who was so greedy, he tried to get into a can of beer. We had the pictures to prove it! And every time the fridge was opened, he would try to get in there, having figured out that that's where yummy stuff is kept. :)

10. X

A/N: Well, the last chapter received quite a response! Thank you so very much! The general consensus seemed to be that Emerson is pregnant. Or is she? Read on to find out... and please leave a comment! Muchas gracias to Liss for beta-ing. Thank you.

X

February 12th

A blustery cold wind hit Brandon Wood like a rude splash of water to the face when he emerged from the Boston International Magical Arrivals terminal. Momentarily shocked, he skittered back inside and pulled out a warm knitted cap, emblazoned with the Puddlemere logo, and stuffed it onto his head. Turning the collar of his cloak up, he glanced at his watch before shoving his gloved hands into his pockets and venturing out again.

This time he was better prepared and for a moment, stood still and let the wind whip around him. It was early evening, just after six o'clock and he was more than an hour early. Emerson wasn't expecting him until seven-thirty and unlike the first time when he'd gone to her dorm and surprised her, he didn't want to do that this time. She would be stuck in classes until almost seven, while Kady had gone home to visit her grandmother, and he really didn't relish the idea of sitting in the empty flat by himself.

Blowing out a breath, which misted whitely in front of him before dissipating, Brandon bent his head low and started down the sidewalk. Looking back, he saw that the IMA terminal appeared to be merely an abandoned bus depot, complete with "No Trespassing" and "Keep Out" signs. A Muggle was none the wiser that while it was a depot of sorts, it was far from abandoned and was, in fact, quite bustling. The sight piqued his interest as to what other wizarding establishments might be down the block, so with that in mind and some time to burn, he set off at a brisk walk.

He walked for a good half-hour and it was interesting picking out what were clearly wizarding shops and stores, tucked away between Muggle bars and bookshops, whose occupants surely had no clue as to the existence of their neighbors. Thin, naked trees in the median strip of the road appeared to wave their branches fruitlessly at the clueless patrons, as if trying to open their eyes to what was in their midst. As twilight approached, streetlights and store signs were gradually turned on, illuminating the street, the trees and the chilly sidewalk in various vivid hues. Music and conversation drifted out from the brightly lit and cozy-looking interiors, intermingling with the sounds of cars passing on the street and the incessant whooshing of the chill wind.

Brandon's nose was beginning to feel numb and after passing what appeared to be the fourth Starbucks in five minutes, he decided to turn back and nip into the nearest one for a hot drink. Just as he made the decision, a faint but piercing whine filled his ears and he stopped short. The sound was quite separate from the whistling of the wind and he turned his head this way and that, trying to determine the source. A flash of color caught his eye and he looked across the street through a break in the trees, mesmerized. Judging from the huge and clearly lit sign, it was a hospital - St. Agatha's Magical Hospital, to be exact. There was some kind of frantic activity going on outside the glass front doors, where half a dozen Healers and nurses were hurriedly levitating almost the same number of patients out of an ambulance (which was the source of the whine) and into the building. There was something desperate about their movements and Brandon wondered what was wrong with the people being levitated. He hoped they would be all right.

"What're you staring at?"

The voice startled him and Brandon jerked around to see a ruddy-faced man with a scraggly beard peering up at him. The man's tone wasn't menacing, merely curious as if he genuinely cared to know the answer and he kept looking from Brandon to the hospital.

Glancing away from him, Brandon looked back to the urgent scene across the street, only to find himself gazing at what appeared to be a billboard, blank except for the words "Available" and a phone number underneath. He blinked and there was the hospital again, the Healers and nurses disappearing inside the glass doors.

Smiling, he turned to the man. "Apparently, that sign is available."

The man looked nonplussed for a second before laughing suddenly. "That it is. That it is. But yer nose looks right ready to fall off, young man. Perhaps you should go warm yourself up with one of those whatchamacallits from Starbucks." He grinned widely. "You can't miss it. And if you do, there's another one on the other side of that there bookstore, and another one down the block."

"They sure love their Starbucks around here, don't they?" Brandon said, chuckling. "Thanks. I was just about to do that, actually."

"But you got distracted by a blank billboard, right?" the man guffawed, before slapping Brandon on the back and striding away, shaking his head.

Grinning, Brandon watched him go before turning around and heading back in the direction he'd come. He didn't miss the Starbucks and slipped inside to purchase a large frothy cappuccino, which he sat down to sip slowly as he listened to the happy, caffeinated chatter of the other customers. There were quite a few cuddling couples and his heart hammered in his chest as he thought about the fact that soon he would be doing that with the woman he loved. The past month had only been made bearable by the fact that he'd been so busy. It was the only way he had managed to survive being away from Emerson for so long, and the knowledge that she was now merely a brisk walk away made his breath hitch.

Unable to stand it all of a sudden, he quickly checked his watch and saw, to his surprise, that it was already after seven. After dumping the almost empty container, he hurried back onto the sidewalk and headed towards the Harvard campus. His heart pounded from adrenaline and excitement and when he reached her door, he didn't bother to knock, choosing instead to use the key she'd given him.

Standing in the neat, tranquil room, Brandon breathed out a deep breath and grinned. Everything looked just the way he remembered from his last visit, back in November. But the most important component wasn't in the living room and, pulling off his gloves, he strode towards her room. His knock went unanswered and after a few seconds, he opened the door and stepped inside. The room was empty, which told him that she hadn't yet returned from class. But her scent enveloped him and he had to lean his hand against the wall so as not to lose his balance. God, how he had missed her!

"Meow."

Brandon looked towards the sound and his grin widened. "Axel." He walked over and picked up the fluffy black kitten, who mewed again and wiggled in his hands. "Hey, it's me. Don't you remember me?"

Axel cried and began to twist so frantically that Brandon quickly put him down, feeling puzzled and not a little disgruntled. He'd been the one to pick out and purchase the ungrateful little beast, who was now acting like Brandon wasn't allowed to touch him. But what did he expect; it was a cat, and cats were standoffish like that sometimes.

"Meow."

"What's your problem now?" he asked, looking over at the kitten, who was sitting in front of Emerson's closed bathroom door. Even as he watched, the kitten cried again and scratched at the door and Brandon felt a sudden coldness, his eyes widening. "What is it, Axel? Is-is she in there?"

Rushing over, he rapped loudly on the door. "Emerson?"

There was no answer and he tried the knob, which was locked. Pressing his ear to the wood, he listened hard and a few seconds later, heard a faint sound from within. His heart hammering, Brandon drew his wand, unlocked the door and opened it.

The sight before his eyes made him freeze for what felt like an eternity, but which was actually only about a second. Emerson was half-crouching, half-sitting on the floor beside the toilet. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and there was a hairbrush at her feet. Her head was down but then she looked up and his breath died in his lungs at the look on her face.

"Oh my God, Em!" he cried, moving forward. He dropped to his knees beside her and fearfully raised her face. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

Her skin was pale and clammy, her hair limp around her face, and she had obviously been crying. Even as he watched, her bottom lip trembled and tears leaked from her eyes. "My stomach hurts so badly," she whispered in a strained voice.

A wall of guilt slammed into Brandon at her words and he gazed at her, horrified. How could he had forgotten that she hadn't been feeling well? How could he have been walking around in the twilight when she had likely been here suffering, needing him? She had been tired, had been throwing up for the past few weeks, but she'd assured him in her last letter that she was feeling better. She'd almost bossily told him not to worry, that she would be fine by the time he got there, and he'd believed her. But still-

"I'm so sorry," he said, brushing her hair from her face. "I should've gotten here sooner. Can you stand? We have to get you to the hospital."

She started to cry, her head hanging down again as he took her arms and began to help her up. "B-Brandon, I have to tell you s-something."

"Okay," he answered soothingly, trying not to give in to his own swirling anxiety. "You can tell me later. Let's get you to the hospital first, okay? I know where to go, thank God. There's a St. Agatha's just a few blocks from here. We can Apparate."

"I have to t-tell you now!" she sobbed, sounding almost hysterical. She was trembling and she wouldn't look at him as she pulled herself up taller. "Brandon, I-I'm-"

But then, all of a sudden, he felt her stiffen as her eyes squeezed shut. Her grip on his hands became painfully vise-like and she began to hunch over again. She bit her lip so hard that he saw it tear and as whatever it was that she was feeling reached the zenith, she went rigid and began to scream. He had never heard a sound like that before, from any one, such a full, unrelenting cry of agony and Brandon felt panic like he had never known before. She was shaking, sweat breaking out on her forehead as that terrible sound began to taper off, little whimpers issuing now from her throat and he pulled her closer, trying to concentrate enough to Disapparate, to get her out of there, to get help...

And that was when he saw the blood.

For a second, all other thought, all other emotion was swept from his mind as he stared in disbelieving horror. The blood was all over her stylish khaki capris, bright, deep and undeniable. She was bleeding to death in his arms and he must have made a sound because she looked up at him. Before he could stop her, her eyes followed his and he felt a tremor rent her body just before she slumped against him. The whine of panic in his skull jacked up another notch and he had to fight with everything he had not to lose it too, not to faint dead away. She needed him. He had to get her out-

Oh God, oh please.

Somehow, he managed to focus, to concentrate enough to conjure up a picture of those glass front doors and suddenly he was there and it was his turn to scream, for someone, anyone, oh please.

And then the nurses and the Healers were swarming all around him. They were taking her away. Someone was leading him by the elbow to a row of chairs, forcing him to sit. Brandon was numb, he was in shock and it took him a full minute to realize that the plump, matronly nurse beside him was saying something.

"What's your name, dear? Can you hear me?"

"Yes. Wood. Brandon Wood."

She smiled reassuringly at him. "Very good. And what's your wife's name? What's her name?"

"Emerson," he answered automatically. "But she's not-"

"Don't worry, dear," the nurse said hurriedly, patting his hand. "She'll be fine. Do you know what happened?"

He shook his head, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. "She was on the bathroom floor. She said her stomach hurt. She started to scream and then I saw the blood. She must have seen it too and that's why she fainted." A blinding sense of fear and desperation welled up inside him and tears gushed down his cheeks. "Oh God, please let her be okay! I can't lose her! Oh, please!"

"The Healers are doing everything they can, okay? Mr. Wood? Look at me."

He looked and through his tears, saw the kindly determination in her eyes. "We will help her. Do you understand?" He nodded dumbly and she stood up. "Stay here and I'll be right back. Okay?"

"Okay."

But as soon as she was gone, he jumped up. How could he remain sitting when Emerson was somewhere in this place, her life seeping out of her? Why hadn't he gone to her dorm as soon as he'd arrived? Why had he gone for a fucking stroll when she likely had been on the floor of her bathroom all that time, in too much pain to even grab her wand and summon help? The thought that if he hadn't gone for that stroll, he likely wouldn't have known where to take her didn't give him very much comfort. All he knew was that she had needed him and he hadn't been there. What the hell use was he?

A sob caught in his throat and he dropped back into the chair and buried his face in his hands. He cried for a moment before gritting his teeth, forcing himself to stop and wipe his eyes. Sucking in deep gulps of air, he dropped his hands from his face and leaned back in the chair, looking around the room for the first time. He was in some kind of waiting area, sitting on one of a long row of chairs that ran the entire length of the wall. Here and there sat clusters of people, obviously awaiting news of some sort. Just like he was. Nurses and Healers zipped out and across the room, while various flashing lights went on and off and the odd hissing or dinging sound came and went. The glass front doors were in perpetual motion, opening and closing behind a steady trickle of people entering or leaving.

Brandon watched a tall, stately-looking woman leading by the hand a small boy who appeared to have a good-sized watermelon growing out the back of his head. They stopped by the information desk, just as an equally tall and stately-looking gentleman hurried in and up to them. The man and woman fell into each other's arms before he dropped to his knees in front of the little boy, looking frantic. The look on the man's face reminded Brandon of his own panic, which was simmering at a precariously containable level within him, and he looked away. The thought suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he should alert Emerson's parents about what was happening. They would want to know that their daughter was lying in a hospital, with Healers presumably hard at work on her.

But what would I say? he wondered, feeling the panic beginning to whip and churn inside him. I don't know what's wrong with her. I don't know anything except that I am scared utterly shitless.

Besides, to inform her parents, he would have to leave and find an owl. And how could he leave her? He had to be here to receive whatever information that nurse might come back with. Wouldn't it be better to know more before he went and frightened her parents with an ambiguous owl? No, he needed to stay here. He could inform her parents later.

The decision made, Brandon sighed and began to lean back again, just as he caught sight of the plump, matronly nurse. He jumped up and hurried out to meet her. "Have you seen her? How is she? What happened? Is she all right?"

"Have a seat, Mr. Wood," she said, quietly.

Feeling faintly irritated, Brandon sat. "What is it?"

"Your wife is fine," the nurse began. "She lost a lot of blood, but it's good that you brought her here when you did and the Healers were able to stop the bleeding and set her to rights. There is no reason why she shouldn't fully recover."

"Oh, thank God," he breathed shakily, feeling tears prickling at his eyes. He covered them with his hand and leaned back in the chair, gulping air desperately as the words echoed in his head. She was fine. She would recover fully.

"-but I'm sorry to say that she lost the baby. Really, she would've had to terminate the pregnancy, anyway. It's just that nature got to it before we did."

The relief that was coursing through his being was so powerful that it took a full minute for what the nurse had said to penetrate his euphoria. But once it did, Brandon's hand jerked away from his eyes and he gaped at her. "B-Baby?"

The nurse looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry. The pregnancy was ectopic, which means that even if this hadn't happened, she still would've had to-"

"Wait, wait," he interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head as if to clear his ears. "What baby?"

"Oh," the woman said, realization dawning on her broad face. "You didn't- oh. I'm guessing she hadn't had a chance to tell you. She was only just about seven weeks so I guess she was waiting to be a bit more certain before she told you. I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

Brandon sat frozen in disbelief on the edge of his chair, myriad thoughts ricocheting against his skull. Emerson had been pregnant? That was why she'd been sick. But why hadn't she told him? Why-

She'd been trying to, don't you see? Just before the pain became too much for her to bear.

Closing his eyes, he held himself still, struggling not to lose his mind from all the things that had been dumped on his consciousness this evening. But it was surely nothing to how Em must have felt, how she must feel. She must have been so scared; she must be so scared.

"Can I see her?"

The nurse stood up. "Of course. Right this way."

He followed her without even really seeing where he was going, so clouded was his mind with everything. All the nausea and vomiting that she'd been having had been morning sickness. All that blood on her clothes had been-

"Oh, I need to clean you up a bit before you can go in," the nurse said, startling Brandon from his horrified musings.

Looking down, he realized for the first time that there was blood on his shirt and his hands and he felt faint, while the nurse swept her wand over him. The blood disappeared but somehow, in his mind's eye, he could still see it... Emerson's blood. And their baby's?

He had to compose himself for a few minutes before he could enter the room. She was lying on the bed, her face to the wall but she turned her head when the door opened. Their eyes met and held and his heart broke within him at the look in her emerald depths. He vaguely heard the nurse say she would be back in a while and to press the summoning button if they needed her.

Of their own accord, his feet propelled him across the room and into her arms and she was sobbing so hard that he thought she would choke. He held her fiercely as her tears soaked his shirt, the shirt that had only just been stained with her blood and the image made his own eyes overflow. How long they stayed like that, he would never know but at last, she began to calm down somewhat and he pulled away.

Her eyes were red, her face blotchy and tear-stained and he touched her cheek lightly. The one question that had been ringing in his head jumped into the forefront and spilled out his mouth before he could stop it.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes but she held his gaze. "I was going to tell you tonight. I just c-couldn't write it in a letter! I c-couldn't- I'm so s-sorry, Brandon!"

"It's okay," he whispered, holding her tightly again. "It's okay."

She pulled away and shook her head. "I can't believe this happened to me. I can't believe I got pregnant! That's just so... so..." Unable to find a word to describe it, she shook her head again and sniffled. "It must've happened over Christmas."

"I thought we were careful," he said, guilt rapidly mushrooming inside him, beating its cadence over the horror and panic that still swirled within his gut. "I thought-"

Emerson wiped her eyes. "Well, obviously we weren't careful enough. We used backup for the Estralevon Potion but what about those times in the middle of the night?"

His heart sank. She was right. Just off the top of his head, he could recall at least three instances in which both of them had awoken and reached for each other. Those times, they'd been too groggy with sleep and focused on the purpose for their waking up to even think about casting a backup charm and they'd always fallen right back to sleep afterwards. He would always wake up in the morning wondering if that late night snack hadn't actually been part of the earlier evening's main course and had never once thought about their carelessness.

Until now.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching for her hand as she sniffled softly. "I'm so sorry, Em."

She threw her arms around him again and they both cried for a few minutes before she lay back on her pillow and wiped her nose. He couldn't take his eyes off her; her pain was so acute that he fancied he could literally feel it.

Swallowing hard, he rubbed her hand that he still held. "How long have you known?"

"About three weeks," she answered. "I think I suspected it for a while before that but I didn't want to acknowledge it."

"How did you find out for sure? Did you go to a Healer?"

She shook her head. "No. If I had, I'd also have found out that it was ectopic. I didn't know it was until tonight. The Healers said it ruptured, which was why it was so painful and why it bled so much."

"I thought you were... I thought you were dying," he whispered, his voice trembling with remembered fear and horror. "What would I have done if you'd-"

She lightly covered his lips with her fingers. "But I didn't. I'm fine. Physically, anyway. If this were a Muggle hospital, I'd have lost that tube, the one that ruptured. But I guess they essentially Reparo-ed it." She tried to smile but her lips trembled and a sob escaped her throat.

Brandon gathered her into his arms again, kissing the top of her head as she cried in his embrace. She could have died, was the one thought that rang in his head. The Fallopian tube that contained the ectopy had ruptured, resulting in massive internal bleeding and if he hadn't found her when he had, she would have hemorrhaged to death on her bathroom floor.

Because of me. Because of my carelessness, my irresponsibility, my-

"-but one night, I went with Krishna to one of those all-night chemists, which Americans call drugstores," Em was saying, her voice low and tight with pain, and he forced himself to listen. "She needed to pick up some things and I was just trailing along behind her. She stopped to browse and my eyes landed on a shelf of pregnancy tests, and just like that I knew. I knew why I'd been tired, why I'd been throwing up, everything. I nearly fainted, Brandon."

He squeezed her tighter. "Did Krishna-"

"She doesn't know," Em interrupted. "Nobody knew, not even Kady. I waited until we'd said goodnight and she'd left before I went back to the drugstore and bought some of the tests. I took four of them and they were all positive. And if I'd known the charm to test for pregnancy, I'd have used that too. But I'd never had to learn it and I couldn't ask anyone now. I didn't want anyone to know, not until I'd told you first. And I was determined to wait until you got here and tell you in person."

She pulled away and leaned back against her pillows, wiping her eyes. "I tried really hard to hide my symptoms, especially the nausea. I put anti-nausea spells on myself before I went anywhere and whenever I felt them wearing off, I'd excuse myself and rush to the nearest bathroom. And I had to pee a lot, which was because of the baby, I knew, but also because I was drinking a lot of fluids in an effort to not get dehydrated." She sniffled and gave him a ghost of a smile that vanished as quickly as it'd come. "I told a lot of lies. Oh, stomach flu. Oh, it's the getting used to American food again after having gone home. If the situation hadn't been so serious and terrifying, I'd have thought it funny. Like I was involved in some kind of covert operation in which the objective was to ensure that nobody knew the truth. Nobody c-could know-"

She broke down again and Brandon tried to comfort her, feeling so helpless and lost. He didn't know what to say, what to do. But oh God, how he hated to see her suffering like this!

Rubbing her back, he tried to sound soothing. "Well, the good thing is you don't have to do that anymore. The covert stuff, I mean."

He realized immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. Emerson stiffened and pulled away from him, her eyes wide with shock and disgust. "'The good thing'? How can you say that? H-How can you-"

She turned away and began to sob in earnest and he sat back, bewildered. He would never consider her suffering to be a positive, not ever. She knew that, didn't she? But under the circumstances, this was a good thing, wasn't it, that this conclusion had been reached? Perhaps 'good' wasn't the right word; perhaps 'best' was more appropriate. Given the alternative, this was for the best, wasn't it?

Because he knew he wasn't ready to be a parent and he didn't think she was, either. What about her education? What about her goals? And they weren't married. Which wasn't that big an obstacle in his mind because he knew that he would marry her in a heartbeat, if she would have him, and not because of a baby or anything.

Oh yes, that was assuming he would still be alive, of course. Brandon shuddered at the thought of what her father might do to him if he found out! His palms grew damp and, forcing himself to leave off that line of thinking, he was more certain than ever that this outcome was the best one for them overall. Besides, according to the nurse, even if this hadn't happened tonight, the pregnancy still would've had to be terminated.

So why-

Brandon frowned, watching her trembling shoulders. All that was true, but what if- but how could that be? Had he misread her that badly? His eyes wide, he blurted, "Wait, you didn't want to be pregnant, did you?"

Emerson's reaction was so immediate that he jerked back, startled. "Of course I didn't want to be pregnant!" she shouted in his face, her eyes bloodshot as she glared at him. "But I was anyway. I was! This would've been our baby, Brandon!"

Her voice broke on his name as the sobs overtook her again, but this time she let him hold her. And he understood. It was the abruptness of it all that hurt her so much. Fate had thrust something on her, made her think she had no other option than to embrace what it had forced on her. She hadn't wanted it, she hadn't planned for it but, slowly, he was sure, she'd begun to accept it even a little bit. And then Fate had said, "Ah, never mind", and rudely snatched it back, indifferently ripping to shreds that tentative bond that she'd begun to form with what would have been her child. His child. Theirs. That was why she was in so much pain, and although he knew that she likely knew this was for the best, she grieved still. How could she not?

She cried for a long time and all he could do was hold her and whisper how sorry he was, how much he loved her. Gradually, she calmed down somewhat and lay quietly in his arms, her occasional sniffles the only sound in the room.

"It's ironic, isn't it?" she said suddenly. "I'm the product of an unplanned pregnancy and then I have an unplanned pregnancy myself. You'd think Fate would try to be a bit more original. Although this ending is definitely a departure from the other one, I guess."

Not knowing what to say to that, he just rubbed her back slowly and after a moment, she pulled away and looked up at him. "Brandon, please don't tell my parents, or anyone, okay?"

"You're joking, right? Me tell Harry Potter that I accidentally knocked up his daughter? What, you think I have a death wish or something?" he asked, trying to sound terrified. Which wasn't very difficult actually, because he was terrified.

She managed a minuscule smile. "Okay. I'm not going to tell anyone about this, except for Lyna. But nobody else. I'm so a-ashamed."

He pulled her to him wordlessly, holding her tight, and that was how the nurse found them when she returned, carrying two steaming goblets, one in each hand. Emerson drained both containers without even asking what they were for, then lay back on her pillow with her face turned away from them. Brandon sat beside her until she fell asleep, and felt himself suddenly gripped by a fatigue unlike any he'd ever experienced before.

"Mr. Wood?" He looked up at the matronly nurse, who beckoned to him. "I need to speak with you outside."

He followed her and sat in the chair she indicated, his head feeling leaden and stuffed. The empty goblets still steamed on the tray beside them and he looked up at her. "What were those for?"

"Oh. This one was a rehydration potion, laced with sleeping draught, and this one was to help with blood replenishing," the nurse explained. "Your wife-"

"She's not my wife," he blurted.

The nurse raised her eyebrows the scantest half-inch but gave no other reaction. "Not yet, you mean. Right?"

In spite of himself, he couldn't suppress a small smile. "Right."

"Well then, your wife-" she said defiantly while her eyes twinkled for a moment before turning serious, "-while she's physically out of the woods, she's not fully recovered. The Healers fixed her up perfectly and she should be able to conceive normally in the future. But you should refrain from intercourse for at least two weeks, to give her body time to truly heal."

Brandon felt himself coloring. "Okay."

"But that's not all," the nurse continued, looking grave. "She'll need time to recover emotionally as well. She might become depressed and will need a lot of support and patience. If she lashes out at you or withdraws, try to remember that she's not doing it to spite you. She's hurting and needs you now more than ever before."

"I understand."

The matronly nurse patted his hand. "Good. Now, I'm here most of the time and I find myself to have taken a liking to you two. Such a lovely girl she is. Those eyes! And you're a fine-looking young man." She chuckled at his fierce blush. "But what I'm saying is I'm here, if you ever need help. All right?"

"Thank you," he answered sincerely, shaking her hand. "I didn't catch your name, I'm sorry."

"Oh, Dawson. Nurse Addie Dawson. All right?"

Brandon nodded. "Thank you. Can I stay with her?"

Nurse Dawson waved him in. "Of course! You can stay as long as you want. And if you need anything, just let me know."

She patted him on the shoulder and bustled out of the room, leaving them alone. With a sigh, he walked over and sat down again on the chair beside her bed. He stared at her peacefully sleeping features for a long time, wishing with everything he had that he could ensure that when she woke up, that peace wouldn't promptly depart.

He didn't try to stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he picked up her warm, limp hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. Then, still holding her hand, he lay his head on the side of her bed, praying for the strength to get through whatever it was that would come, the good and the bad.

Because somehow he knew that neither they nor their relationship would ever be the same again.

********
TBC
********

End Notes:

Well... bet y'all weren't expecting that, eh? Your comments would be welcome. Thanks!

11. XI

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I appreciate it very much! And also to Lissanne for beta-ing. Enjoy.

XI

Even a full three weeks after that horrible evening, Emerson had yet to completely wrap her mind around all that had happened. It all seemed like a terrifying nightmare, blood and gore and unspeakable pain, interlaced with fierce and frequent stabs of grief. How she wished she could wake up. Oh God, let her wake up!

And then the realization would come that, however much she wished it were so, it hadn't been a dream. This was reality and she couldn't wake up from it; there was no escape. Everything really had occurred and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get past it. She couldn't move on.

If before that night Em had ever thought she'd known fear, she'd been mistaken. She'd learned the error of her ways while crouching on her bathroom floor, agony such as she'd never known before tearing through her being. The closest she'd ever come to being that terrified had been during her second year at Hogwarts when that demented woman had been threatening harm to her family. That had been one of the most difficult episodes of her life and Em had hoped to never experience such crippling emotions again.

Sitting Indian-style in the middle of her bed at Harvard, books and papers spread out around her while Axel slept on top of her pillow, Emerson wiped miserably at her eyes. In a way, she hurt even more now than she had at the height of the actual agony. But this was a different ache. Whereas that had been a blinding physical pain, this was emotional. This felt like someone had stabbed her in the heart and refused to stop turning the knife, slowly, minutely, calculatingly. This felt eternal.

That certainly wasn't the way she'd been looking forward to spending her Valentine's Day weekend. It was her first one with Brandon, as a couple, and especially with the longer than usual separation that they were facing, she'd been eagerly anticipating his visit. The day after her arrival at school, she'd even begun looking into what events, if any, the establishments on and around campus were planning for the holiday, intent on making their weekend together ultra special. She'd also been excited about being back at school and had been eager to roll up her sleeves and jump head-on into her studies once more.

But something had been bothering her even then, the nagging, inescapable knowledge that she hadn't gotten her period. According to her calculations, the Estralevon Potion had been due to expire the middle of December, which meant that she should've had her menses by at least the beginning of January. But other than the faintest bit of spotting, there hadn't been anything. Emerson had always been very regular, but she told herself that it was probably because she was using birth control for the first time. It had likely just messed with her cycle, which technically was what it was supposed to do, after all.

That was what she told herself, but she must have known even then that something was wrong. Why else had she refrained from mentioning it to her mother? Mum had given her an unopened container with the second dose and asked how things were and Em had just said everything was fine and gone on to rave about the effectiveness of the contraceptive. But she hadn't mentioned the fact that her period hadn't come, and neither had she taken the new dosage. She'd told herself that she would just put it off for a while, give her body some time to get back on track. Besides, she wouldn't be seeing Brandon for a good six weeks so she could afford to not be on birth control for a while.

By the beginning of her second week back at school, however, she still hadn't menstruated. And additionally, that gripping weariness had taken ahold of her, just a drowsy bone-tiredness that found her always struggling to stay awake. She would fall asleep as soon as her head touched her pillow, sleeping deeply all through the night and waking up feeling refreshed. Yet, by early afternoon her eyelids would be drooping again and the urge to take a nap would be almost overpowering. The queasiness began around that time too, and with it had come undeniable pricklings of panic as that dreaded 'p' word kept popping up in her mind.

Recalling the night that she'd stopped hiding her head in the sand, the night with Krishna at the local Walgreen's when she'd stared at that shelf of pregnancy tests and felt faint, the tears began rolling down her cheeks again and she sniffled loudly. Which woke up Axel.

"Meow," he said anxiously, uncurling himself and padding over to bump her with his head.

In spite of herself, Em smiled and picked him up, cuddling him in her arms. "It's okay, Axel. It's okay."

The kitten stared up at her skeptically with his huge, gray eyes and she kissed his small forehead and sighed. Try as she could, she couldn't stop thinking about it. About how Krishna had asked if she was all right, that she looked "almost ashy".

"I'm fine," Em had managed. "Just really tired. It's been a grueling week, hasn't it?"

Her lab partner had snorted. "Tell me about it. But come on, I've got everything. Let's get you home so you can get some sleep, eh?"

But when Krishna left, sleep had been the last thing on Emerson's mind. After casting a Silencing charm so as not to alert Kady to what was going on, she'd burst into tears in the middle of her room, Axel mewing in sympathy at her feet.

"Oh my God, oh my God," she'd kept saying, over and over again, as if that would make it better, as if that would make it untrue. But how could it not be true? The symptoms were all there, everything. How could she not be pregnant?

You don't know that for sure! said a hysterical voice in her head. Have you taken any kind of test? It could be anything!

Emerson had frozen on the spot and reached up to wipe her eyes. A test, that's what she needed to do. But what was the charm to test for pregnancy? The nurse at Hogwarts had taught it to them, along with the contraceptive one, but it had slipped from memory out of obvious disuse. Maybe Kady-

"No!" she'd said aloud, interrupting her own frantic thoughts. "I can't ask her. I can't ask anyone! Nobody can know. Nobody must know. Not yet." She started to cry again before forcing herself to stop. She'd hurriedly rifled through her purse for some money, checked to see that she looked presentable and Apparated into the alley behind the drugstore.

The male cashier at the check-out counter had raised his eyebrows when she dumped the assortment of pregnancy tests in front of him. "You having a party or something?"

She glared at him and he'd shrugged and quickly rang up her purchases. Not bothering to wait for her change, she'd hurried back to the alley and Disapparated. In her bathroom, she'd made herself sit down on the covered toilet and carefully read the instructions twice before she took the first test. The three-minute wait for the results was the longest three minutes of her life and she felt like her heart had stopped when she saw the two lines. They were deep and unmistakable but, as the tears gushed from her eyes again, she'd taken another test, and another, and another. And when they were all arranged in a neat little row on the sink, only then did the shrill voice of denial in her head start to shut up. One could be a mistake, two a coincidence. But not three, and certainly not four.

There was no more rationalizing, no more excuses, no more alternatives. Not once had the chance of this occurrence ever crossed her mind. Things like this didn't happen to her. She was a mature, responsible young woman. She had a plan, dreams, goals. And this was not part of it. How could this have happened?

She'd cried for a long time that night, dreading what was to come. She would have to tell Brandon, of course. But how could she write something like that in a letter? What would she say anyway:

Dear Brandon, How're you? How's the jet-setting going? I'm all right. Well, except for the fact that I'm pregnant. Hope everything is going great! Love, Em.

No. Even in her head it had sounded stupid and how could she dump something like that on him by owl? Something this monumental, this life-changing, deserved to be told in person. And clearly, he was the first person who needed to know, which meant that until then, she would have to keep it to herself. Not that she had any intention of telling anyone, other than Lyna and not until she'd told Brandon. The thought of her parents finding out, especially, made her cringe in mortification still.

"Oh God," Em whispered into Axel's fluffy fur, her heart seizing as she imagined what her parents would've said. How her father would've looked at her!

Emerson had no doubt that they would've been supportive in the long run, but she knew they would also have been sorely disappointed in her first. Wasn't it only weeks ago that she'd been convincing her father of her maturity, of the fact that she was an adult and could handle this relationship? And now this had happened. How very mature, how very responsible of her.

And the fact that there was no longer a baby didn't comfort her in the slightest because there still existed the way she had responded to its demise. If her parents knew, if her father knew-

There was a knock on her door, and Emerson started and quickly wiped her eyes and nose. Jumping up, she took a deep breath and tried not to look as miserable as she really felt. Kady knew nothing about all that had happened and Em didn't want that to change any time soon.

But when she pulled open the door, it wasn't her roommate standing there smiling at her.

"Brandon?" she blurted, her eyes wide. "What're you doing here?"

Her boyfriend looked puzzled. "Didn't you get my owl?"

"Your owl?" she parroted blankly. Then her brow cleared as she remembered. "Oh, yeah! I did get it. Sorry. Come in."

He stepped inside and she closed the door behind him and squeezed her eyes shut. Oh God, he was the last person she wanted to see right now! She had gotten his owl, but for the first time since they'd begun their relationship, she hadn't opened the letter. She'd stuffed it under her pillow and forgotten about it.

"Hey, you," he said and she took a deep breath and turned around.

But he wasn't talking to her. He was scratching under the chin of a delighted Axel, who was purring happily, and with his attention safely diverted, she stared at him. He was gorgeous, the way his thick brown hair hung shaggily about his face. The way the dimple in his left cheek winked whenever he smiled or grinned, which seemed to be almost all the time. The way his brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed.

Emerson found herself blinking back tears as she watched him. She loved him. She loved him so much, but it hurt to be around him now. Being around him reminded her of her pain and her grief. Her guilt. He was her partner in crime, he was the one who'd made that baby with her, the baby she hadn't wanted, the baby whose death she'd-

Brandon looked up at her and smiled and she looked away, swallowing hard in an effort to compose herself. He'd been here every single weekend since the miscarriage, ignoring her protests that she was fine, that he shouldn't jeopardize his standing at work just to be with her.

"I don't care about work, Em," he'd said. "You're more important to me than anything else."

"But your career!" she'd protested. "You're really only just starting in the business, Brandon. You shouldn't be taking it lightly."

He'd touched her cheek, his eyes tender. "You are my business, can't you see?"

She hadn't known how to respond to that.

"How're you?" he asked now, standing in front of her. She avoided his eyes but she could smell his aftershave and the scent made her heart pound.

For some reason, his question irritated her. Like, how the hell did he think she was? He reached out to touch her cheek and Em found herself trying very hard not to flinch.

"I'm fine," she said, looking up and forcing a smile. "How're you?"

He shrugged. "Okay. I couldn't wait to get here."

"Oh?" she said noncommittally, moving away from him. She went over to her bed and began to gather the papers and books that were spread out on it. "How's work?"

"Still busy. But it should be winding down before too long. We've been working around the clock to do all the renewals in a timely manner, and only a handful of countries left to deal with." He sighed. "Which is how comes I'm able to be here every weekend. Not that I'd have let it s-stop m-me."

She glanced up just in time to see him yawning hugely. Frowning, she walked over and really looked at him. Up close, she realized that his eyes were red and there were dark circles underneath them. "You must be so tired!"

"A little," he said, shrugging.

Emerson felt a pang of guilt. Here he was, having endured the rigors of international Portkey travel after a long, arduous week at work, to be with her and she was too focused on being aloof. Turning back to her bed, she grabbed her wand and waved it to gather the books and papers, then fluffed up her pillow and drew the covers back.

"Lie down."

Brandon's eyes twinkled. "Yes, ma'am." He kicked off his shoes and obeyed and she drew the covers over him, feeling herself blushing at the proximity of their faces. She began to straighten up but he grabbed her wrist. "Stay with me."

His eyes held hers and she blushed harder, finding herself unable to look away. "Okay."

He scooted over so she could lie down beside him then drew her close, one arm draped over her waist. Em tried not to stiffen, but at the same time, she didn't want to encourage him. Nurse Dawson and the Healers at St. Agatha's had said they should wait two weeks before being intimate and although it was now three weeks after the miscarriage, Emerson couldn't bear the thought of sex. She didn't delude herself into thinking that her body didn't want him; when it came to Brandon, her body always wanted him. But she knew that in every other way, she wasn't ready to return to that level yet. Frankly, she couldn't see how she ever would return to that level.

Shifting slightly, she moved her head back so she could see his face and was surprised to discover that he was already fast asleep. He must've been much more tired than he'd let on. And yet, he was here; he had come to her. Even though her company was much less than stellar these days, he'd still wanted to be with her. Feeling her eyes prickling, she reached out and slowly traced the contours of his mouth and jawline. Would he still feel the same way if he knew how she had felt about what would have been his child?

Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

Tears squeezed out her tightly shut eyes and she gritted her teeth against the sobs that threatened to escape her throat. After a moment of taking deep, shaky breaths, she managed to regain control and allowed herself to sink deeper into the mattress. Feeling suddenly weary, Emerson heaved a great sigh and closed her eyes.

She must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes, the lamp on her desk was glowing brighter against the darkness that had fallen outside, casting long shadows all around the room. Em rolled over and found herself looking into Brandon's brown eyes. He smiled and brushed her hair from her face, and perhaps her defenses were down from having just woken up because she smiled back, which made his eyes light up from within.

"I love you," he whispered.

She tried but she couldn't get the words out, couldn't give voice to how much she loved him, too. He must have read it in her eyes, though because he leaned over and kissed her. And it was like she'd been plunged into water that was both hot and cold at the same time. What felt like every single hair on her body stood up, her scalp prickled, her eyes drifted shut as his lips moved on hers, as his tongue touched her lips and she opened her mouth and granted him entrance. Emerson moaned involuntarily at that first taste of him, her first taste of him in more than two months, because hadn't the day of her return to school after Christmas hols been the last time they'd really kissed? His lips wandered to her neck and she gasped at the jolts of sensation that shot through her being, her hands moving to tangle in his hair just before he captured her mouth again. She kissed him back hungrily, his legs rubbing sensually against hers under the covers and her body screamed for him.

Yet, at the same time, something else was screaming. Something in her head was yelling at her and the more urgently his mouth moved against hers, the louder that voice became until it was all she heard. Brandon cupped her breasts and even as her nipples instantly hardened at the contact, her entire body went rigid and she jerked away from him. She sat up abruptly, flinging the covers away from her and scrambled out of the bed, her breathing ragged, the blood pounding in her ears.

"Oh God, Em, I'm sorry," Brandon was saying, sounding horrified. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not you," she managed in a tight whisper. "It's not you."

It was her. She was the one who had no right to be doing anything like that. Was she so weak that she couldn't abstain even for a little while? Was she so selfish?

Emerson covered her eyes, pressing them with the heels of her palms while she gulped mouthfuls of air. Walking over to her desk, she drew herself up onto it and leaned her head shakily back against the wall. Really, what did she expect, lying in bed with him? If she couldn't be strong enough to not encourage him, the least she could do was not place herself anywhere that might give him ideas.

In here? scoffed a voice in her head. Whatever. He's fucked you on every single piece of furniture in this room and you know it.

Take the desk she was sitting on, for instance. It'd been the weekend of his first visit, the day she'd worn that long, lightweight skirt that he'd liked so much; the one he said made her look like a "demure little miss". He'd slowly and methodically undressed her of everything but the skirt, perched her on the edge of the desk, pushed the skirt up and proceeded to work his magic on her with his mouth. Then, before she'd had a chance to come down from the high, he'd taken her with abandon and Emerson remembered having what felt like one long, continuous orgasm, or else a hundred little ones in rapid succession. Before reaching completion, he'd pulled out and helped her off the desk and she'd gotten to her knees before him, the long skirt pooling around her legs. She'd taken him in, working her magic until he'd cried out her name with passion and filled her mouth to overflowing, his hands tangled in her hair.

It had been one of the most erotic incidents of her life and seated now on that same desk, Emerson's body burned at the memory. She pressed her legs together and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears of desire, shame and guilt that welled up, her hands balled tightly into fists on her lap. How dare she. How dare she want sex when she was neither responsible enough to consider and prevent the consequences, nor mature enough to appropriately handle the results of said irresponsibility? How dare she.

The sobs welled up in her throat and she stopped trying to fight them, burying her face in her hands as she cried. She stiffened at his touch and through her own maelstrom of emotions, his quiet voice filled her with simmering rage.

"Are you okay?" he asked, crouching in front of her. "What is it, Em?"

She pulled away irritably. "Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing to me. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't want to talk about it! All right?" she snapped, glaring at him. She watched his jaw clench as he looked away and took a few deep breaths, clearly searching for patience. When he looked back, his voice was so calm that she flushed with sudden mortification.

"Okay." He stood up and headed to the door, where he paused and looked back at her. "I'm gonna go into the living room for a bit, since you seem to need to be alone."

The door closed behind him and she broke down, drawing her legs up onto the desk to rest her forehead against her knees. She didn't know how long she cried but after a while she calmed down, though she didn't get down from the desk. She didn't think she wanted to move ever again, because moving would surely disturb the prickly ball of guilt and grief inside her that was, for the moment, stationary.

Of course she couldn't stay like that forever, and eventually she had to get down to use the bathroom. When she reentered her room, Brandon was sitting on the bed and there was a tray on her desk.

"What's that?" she asked, gesturing at the tray.

"I made you some soup," he answered. "There's a grilled cheese sandwich too, and some pumpkin juice."

Emerson wanted to cry again. "You made that f-for m-me? Why?"

"Figured you might be hungry," he said simply, as if that explained everything. "Go on."

Although she was famished, she ate slowly, because there was a lump in her throat that made swallowing rather difficult. She couldn't keep her eyes off him, staring as he played with Axel but always looking away quickly when he glanced up. She wanted to tell him so badly but she couldn't bear the thought of him looking at her in a different way.

And she was certain that he would if he knew; if he knew that, in that split second between when she'd seen the blood and when she'd fainted, the emotion that had shot through her being had been relief.

That was the primary reason why she was so torn up, not because Fate had rudely snatched the baby away. Although that definitely hurt, because she'd almost begun to resign herself to the fact. But not really, not completely. And when she'd seen that blood and realized what it meant, that she'd been let off the hook; that she wouldn't have to endure being the cause of such grave disappointment to her parents and loved ones; that she wouldn't have to give up or alter the future that she'd planned for herself, she had been relieved. Synonyms: pleased, contented, satisfied, at rest. How could she have been at rest over the death of what would have been her child? How could she have been pleased?

And at the hospital when he'd said, "Well, the good thing is you don't have to do that anymore", she'd lashed out at him. Because he'd given voice to what she herself had already thought, and what a horrible thought it was! What a selfish thought! She almost couldn't bear to be in her own skin. Oh God, how she wished she could be someone else, someone less callous and self-serving.

There was no getting away from herself, however. So the least she could do was get him away from her, spare him having to associate with someone as cold as she clearly was.

The least she could do was push him away.

But he turned out to be just as stubborn as she was, if not more. As the weeks went by, still he came down every weekend like clockwork, in spite of all her efforts, and the happiness and sorrow warred for dominance within her. Inwardly, she was happy to see him because when he was there, it seemed to be the only time she could truly rest. In contrast with before when she could sleep deeply and dreamlessly for extended periods, now she had trouble staying asleep for more than two hours at a time. She spent the sleepless nights poring over her coursework, making so much feverish headway in her degree program that her professors began to express alarm that she was overworking herself.

But when Brandon was there, for some reason she was able to sleep much more peacefully than when he wasn't. And her own weakness, her own need of him even as she knew she didn't deserve him, increased her guilt all the more.

It wasn't long before her misery became apparent to those around her. Matt Adler, Krishna Richards and Kady had all taken to asking if she was all right, saying that she looked pale and tired all the time. Her roommate kept asking what was going on with her and Brandon, because of course she couldn't help but notice that he was coming down every weekend. Neither could she fail to notice that Em and Brandon weren't acting around each other anything like they used to.

Emerson had been having an even worse day than usual and she snapped. "Here's a suggestion, Kady: why don't you mind your own fucking business? You don't see me prying into what's going on between you and my brother, do you? Well, how about doing me the same favor and staying the hell out of my affairs?"

Kady recoiled as if Em had slapped her and ran to her room in tears. Whereupon Emerson started to cry, too, and although she apologized profusely through her roommate's locked door, Kady didn't come out or otherwise acknowledge her.

"Which is no less than I deserve," Em muttered miserably to herself. With a sigh, she flung herself onto her bed and pulled out the letter that had made the day worse than usual.

Under any other circumstance, the contents of that letter would've been cause for hysterical rejoicing on Em's part. The letter was from Carolyna Lupin Chapman, excitedly informing Em that she and Davis were expecting their first child. Lyna had told Em over Thanksgiving that she and Davis were trying. But it must have completely slipped Emerson's mind because she'd been so intent on sharing her own sorry story with her best friend.

Em sighed again. "Now there's no chance in hell of me doing that. Not for a while. Because how can I tell Lyna something like this? It'd scare the daylights out of her and she doesn't need that. Being pregnant is scary enough by itself."

To make matters worse it was Friday, which meant that Brandon would be arriving any minute. And God knew she had neither the energy nor the patience to deal with him just now. She'd already forced herself to muster up all the cheerfulness that she could find to respond via owl to her best friend's good news, and surely there was none left over for her long-suffering boyfriend.

But she couldn't deny the pounding of her heart when she saw him. She couldn't deny how good his arms felt around her, although she forced herself to pull away from his embrace very quickly. The weekend dragged by and for the first time Emerson realized what a yawning divide had erupted between them. She knew it was mostly her fault. Brandon's coming down every weekend could only be interpreted as him trying to bridge the gulf, while she kept rebuffing him. How much more would he take? How long before he threw his hands up in disgust and left her to her misery?

The thought filled her with a paralyzing dread that had her hunching over at her desk. How could she be without him? She loved him so much! She needed him. Her life had never been so full, so rich as it had been since she'd known his love. How could she survive without it?

"Emerson? What's wrong?" he asked, sounding worried, and only then did she realize that she was crying.

She sucked in a breath, wiping angrily at her eyes and sat up straighter. It's for the best. It's for the best. "Nothing."

"Will you stop saying that?" he said irritably. "You know and I know that this is about something. This is about-"

"Don't say it!" she hissed through clenched teeth, glaring up at him.

He glared back. "Why not? I hate what this is doing to us, Em! Why can't we just talk about it? It's been eight fucking weeks! I hate how-"

"Well, if you hate it so much, why don't you just leave? No one is making you stay!"

He looked for a moment like he wanted nothing better than to shake her but when he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost devoid of emotion. "The way you're acting right now that would be the easy thing for me to do. But I won't. I'm not capable of doing that and even if I was, I wouldn't. We got into this mess together and I refuse to abandon you to deal with it by yourself. So you can try to push me away all you want, it won't work. I'm not going anywhere."

It would have been better if he had shouted. His calmness was killing her; her heart was breaking with guilt. He didn't deserve this. But why couldn't he see that this was for his own good? Did he want to make her say it? Did he want to know that she was actually so much less than he thought she was?

But he was still speaking. "I'm not claiming to know what you're feeling. But I want to know. I want to understand, Emerson. Why won't you talk to me? This would have been my child too, you know."

"Yeah, well, you didn't even know there was a potential child until it was already gone."

The words slipped out before she could stop them and immediately after they'd been uttered, she wished she could take them back. Brandon made a frustrated noise low in his throat and looking up, she saw that he was much more than frustrated. He was angry.

"And that's my fault, is it?"

"No, I-"

"Look, Emerson," he interrupted sharply. "Stop acting like you have a monopoly on pain. Because you don't! Now I'm going for a walk to calm myself down because I honestly can't stand you right now."

He grabbed his cloak and stalked away. The door of her room banged shut behind him and a few moments later, so did the front door. Emerson buried her face miserably into her arms, deep sobs wracking her body. She wanted to be angry with him for his words, but how could she be when she understood exactly how he felt? Because right this moment, she couldn't stand herself either.

Jumping up from the desk, she climbed under her bed covers and sobbed into her pillow, the self-disgust swirling all around her. After a while, she made herself stop and lay sniffling as she waited for him to come back. She wanted to apologize, to tell him how much she loved him.

She wanted to confess.

But he didn't come back and eventually, the weariness overtook her and she fell asleep. When she woke up, he was sitting at her desk, watching her. Em rubbed her eyes and stared back, taking in his familiar features that she so adored. Would their child have looked like him?

Brandon stood up and she noticed he was still wearing his cloak. "I have to go," he said quietly.

A wave of sadness and regret washed over her as she realized that yes, he did have to go. One more precious weekend that could've been used for healing and reconciliation had been wasted. And now he had to go home - back to his job, his friends and family, who were no doubt getting curious about his weekly trips out here. He was leaving and if things continued this way, if she continued to push him away... how long would it be before he stopped trying? How long before she lost him too?

But she couldn't speak, not through the enormous mass in her throat. So she just nodded. She watched him walk over to the door and for one horrible second thought he was going to leave without even saying goodbye.

But he turned back and looked at her, his dark eyes heavy with emotion. "I love you, you know."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she nodded again. She did know. And she loved him too, so much that her heart ached. But she couldn't say it, try as she did and finally, he turned away and opened the door.

"Brandon-"

He looked back at her, his face firmly composed. "Get some rest, Emerson. I'll see you next week."

And he was gone, leaving her broken and weeping in the middle of her bed.

*******
TBC
*******

12. XII

A/N: I can't express enough how grateful I am to everyone who has reviewed this story so far. I appreciate it tremendously, because I know these are not canon characters. So the response I've gotten is very encouraging. Thank you! This is a short, transitional chapter, just to move the plot forward, but it is necessary, I believe. Your comments would be welcome, as always.

And thanks to Lissanne for beta-ing and being an awesome friend!

XII

Later that same night, Emerson left her room and went into the kitchen to refill Axel's food and water bowls. The kitten immediately pounced on the food and smiling to herself, Em started to leave the room just as a petite brunette started to enter.

"Oh, sorry!" Em said quickly, reaching out to steady her roommate. "That was a close one."

Kady didn't look at her, only stepped aside and headed to the refrigerator, where she removed a bottle of water and walked by Em without a word. Emerson squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. This was all her fault. Her roommate had avoided her all weekend and when they did manage to be in the same room together, the brunette ignored her coldly. Em knew that her words had hurt Kady and that it was up to her to mend the fences.

Hurrying out of the room, she saw Kady ahead of her. "Kady, wait! Please?"

Her roommate stopped but didn't turn around and Em walked up and stood in front of her. Kady's blue eyes were full of tears but she held her head high and looked steadily at Em. "What?"

"Oh Kady, I'm so sorry," Em began earnestly, tears welling up in her own eyes. "I didn't mean those things I said. I'd just been having a really bad day and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry!"

"Okay," Kady said, her eyes spilling over. She wiped them and regarded Emerson critically. "I'm worried about you, Em. If you don't want my help, that's fine. But you need somebody's help. And I wouldn't be a friend if I didn't point that out."

Em nodded, feeling the sobs rising in her chest. "You're right. I n-need help, Kady. I can't do this anymore."

And suddenly she was crying so hard, she could hardly breathe and Kady was steering her to the stylish Ikea couch in the corner. Her roommate hugged her and rubbed her back, whispering soothing words while the terrible sobs wracked her body and all her grief spilled over. It felt so good to cry like this, to have someone holding her, to not be so alone anymore.

After a long moment, she managed to calm down and pulled away. "Thank you," she said, accepting the tissue her friend held out. After blowing her nose, she leaned back on the couch and tucked her legs under her. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"I'm your friend, Emerson," Kady said softly. "If I can be there for you, I want to be."

Em nodded. "Okay." Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and began to talk. She shared almost everything, about the pregnancy, the miscarriage. And about Brandon, about how supportive he'd been, about him coming down every weekend even when he was clearly exhausted. She started crying again as the guilt mushroomed inside her. "Oh Kady, I'm so scared that I'm going to lose him! He's been so wonderful and I've been such a bitch to him!"

"Do you want to lose him?"

"N-No," Em choked. "I love him so much."

"Then stop it!" Taken aback, Emerson looked up to see Kady almost glaring at her. "That startled you, didn't it? Well, I'm not sorry. It's what you need to hear!" The petite brunette shook her head, looking on the verge of tears. "God, Emerson, do you have any idea how lucky you are? Most women, myself included, would kill to have a man who looks at them the way Brandon looks at you! Like you're the sun in his sky or something. Even a blind man could see that he's madly in love with you and he doesn't care who knows it. And not only that, but he's smart and funny and good-looking. He's not afraid of hard work." She paused for a second. "And from what I've heard, he's incredible in bed."

Em's head snapped up. "What do you mean, from what you've heard?"

Kady seemed to be trying not to smirk but her eyes gave her away. "Well, let's just say you two have forgotten your Silencing charm once or twice."

"Oh my God," Emerson muttered, feeling her face heating up. "Kady, I'm sorry-"

"Please," her roommate said, waving her hand dismissively. "It's all right. But my point is, Emerson, you have been blessed with someone the likes of whom some people search for all their lives and never find. Don't throw him away. You would regret it forever."

Yes, she would, and the realization was so terrifying that it took a while before Em could speak. He was the best thing to ever happen to her and she would be useless without him. How could losing him be easier than having him know her painful secret? Better to have him with his perception of her changed than to not have him at all.

Finally, she managed to stop crying and catch her breath. Looking up through swollen eyes at her friend, she twisted the wadded tissue in her hands. "You're right. About everything. But I don't know how to reach out to him. I don't know what to do first. I made him so mad today."

"Well, I imagine you'll have to start small. Is there anything that you were doing before to maintain the relationship that you've since stopped doing?"

Em's brow furrowed for a second before she nodded. "Yeah, there is. I haven't been writing to him."

"Then you need to start doing that again," Kady said simply. "You have to talk to him, Em. Tell him everything you told me and whatever else you feel you need to. Just be honest with him. He wouldn't be coming here so often if he didn't want to help you."

"You're right."

They were quiet for a time before Kady spoke again. "And Em? Try not to feel so guilty. At least you had no choice in what happened to the baby."

Something in her roommate's voice made Em look up and she was surprised to see that Kady was crying. Leaning forward, she held out her hand and Kady seized it tightly. "Kady?"

Her friend wiped her eyes shakily and looked up. "I had an abortion when I was seventeen. I didn't even like the guy. He was really popular at school and had never given me the time of day before that night. He didn't know me afterwards, either. But I ended up pregnant and all I could think about was how much my grandmother had sacrificed to get me as far as I'd gotten and was that how I'd repaid her? Just for a one night stand with some stuck-up, rich asshole?" She shook her head and sniffled. "I was really angry with myself and I thought it was the only option I had. I just couldn't bear to disappoint Nana, not after everything!"

Emerson's heart broke for her friend and the two young women held each other and cried. When they pulled apart, they both wiped their eyes and laughed nervously. "We're a pair of saps, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but in our defense, this is deep shit," Em commented. She sighed. "I was going to talk to Lyna about all this, but now I can't. Not for a while, anyway."

"Why not?"

Em smiled. "She's pregnant."

"Really?" Kady cried. "That's awesome!"

"Yeah, it is. They've been together since she and I were in our fourth year at Hogwarts. It was love at first sight for Lyna, and Davis liked her immediately when they were finally introduced."

Her roommate sighed wistfully. "I guess there's hope for those like me who are so unlucky in love." She glanced at Em. "Your brothers are really cute, though."

"Plural?" Em asked, frowning. "Luke's only fourteen, Kady."

"I know. And I would totally go to jail for him."

"Kaydia!"

Kady laughed. "If you could see your face right now! Don't worry, I'm just joking, of course. But I do genuinely like Ben." She bit her bottom lip. "How would you feel if Ben and I got together?"

Em shrugged uncomfortably. "It's really none of my business, is it? You're both adults."

"But he's your brother and I'm your roommate. Would it be too weird for you?"

"I don't know, Kady. When you say 'get together', what do you mean? Like a relationship or just hanging out or what?"

Kady blushed. "Um, actually more like friends with benefits. We talked about it and are both in agreement that we just like each other very much and are physically attracted. That's all."

"Oh. Well, since you've talked about it," Em said, feeling rather flustered. "Like I said, you're both adults. It's really not my place to yay or nay. Just- just don't hurt him, okay?"

"Okay."

They quickly changed the subject, talking for a while about their studies and laughing about Axel's continuing food-related antics. Finally, they said good night and Em hugged her friend and thanked her profusely for all her help. It had felt so good to share her burden with someone else and get some advice. When she closed the door of her room, the first thing she did was pull out a long scroll of parchment and a quill. There was so much she needed to say to him, so many walls she needed to tear down inside herself if she wanted to truly reach him.

Seated at her desk, she closed her eyes for a minute, gathering her jumbled and tumultuous thoughts, then took a deep breath and began to write.

**********

April 13th

Dear Brandon,

This must come as a surprise to you and for that I apologize. That is the first of many apologies in this letter, actually.

I've got so much to say but I'm not quite sure where to begin. Perhaps I should start by thanking you, for everything. Thank you for sticking with me, for your patience. God knows I would have throttled me a long time ago if the positions were reversed. I've been so horrible to you, when you've clearly been going out of your way to be supportive to me during this terrible time. I'm so sorry, Brandon.

The main reason for my actions is that I was trying to push you away. It just hurt too much to be around you, while at the same time I needed you more than ever. I haven't been able to sleep very much except when you're here. But at the same time, your presence reminds me of my guilt. Even now, when I ache so much to tell you, I find myself unable to write it down; somehow, I just know it will look abominable on paper. Yet I know it will be even more painful to tell you in person, for me and perhaps for you because, like you said, this would have been your child too. I know that what happened was the best thing in the long run. Neither of us are ready to be parents.

But at the same time, I shouldn't have felt what I felt. It was a truly self-centered reaction. If I'm not making any sense, I'm sorry. I promise to come clean with everything next time we're together. Please don't give up on me. I love you so much and I'm so sorry for being the monumental bitch I've been to you. Next time you're here, things will be better, I promise. I've been too focused on my own pain, when the fact of the matter is that you've been hurting, too. I'm sorry, Odie.

Please write to me when you get a chance. I love you.

Yours,
Emerson

*******
TBC
*******

13. XIII

A/N: ¡Muchas gracias por todas sus revisiones! It is very much appreciated and hope you'll enjoy this chapter. And as always, many thanks to the lovely Lissanne for the beta.

XIII

For the first time since she and Brandon had begun their relationship, Emerson didn't promptly receive a response from him. She was used to getting a return owl no more than two days at the latest. But as the week went by, and although she sent an owl every other day, she heard nothing back. At first, she thought it was nothing less than she deserved. She hadn't responded to many of his owls since the miscarriage and when she did write back, her letters were always brief. She'd claimed to be very busy with school and work, and while that wasn't a lie, it had never interfered with her letter-writing before. There was no doubt that Brandon had picked up on that, and his stony silence to her repeated letters could only be interpreted as payback.

But as Thursday drew to a close and still no word from him, Em began to really panic. What if he just didn't bother to show up the next day? What if he hadn't even read any of those increasingly plaintive missives that she'd sent to him? Had he finally had enough?

Sighing, she forced herself to leave off her fruitless staring out the window. An owl wasn't going to materialize just because she wanted one to. Perhaps she should just start resigning herself to the fact that after two solid months of seeing him every weekend, things were about to change.

"And it's my own fault," she whispered miserably, picking up her pen again. She was writing a paper on Pharmacology and Toxicology, a paper that wasn't due for a good month. But her insomnia was such that she'd gotten much further into the curriculum than she'd envisioned, so why not get it out of the way? It's not like she had anything better to do. Even her boyfriend didn't want to be around her.

That is assuming he's still my boyfriend.

Em felt her eyelids prickling at the thought. What the hell had she been thinking, pushing him away? Had she really thought she could get on without him? Even before they'd become lovers, Brandon had always been a part of her life. He was one of her earliest childhood playmates and they'd gotten on well together until the year she'd turned ten and he'd become a colossal pain in the arse. That had continued after she'd gone to Hogwarts, until her second year when they'd reached an understanding and their friendship had truly blossomed. He'd become one of her best friends, someone she could always count on to be there for her. And then that night in her flat, he'd become so much more.

"Please write to me, Odie. Please," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks as she stared out her window into the blackness. The wind whipped her curtains about and ruffled the papers on her desk and she sniffled and lay her head down on her arms.

A slight rustling made her look up sharply and her heart hammered in her chest when she saw the large screech owl that was perched on her window ledge. Breathing hard, she stood up and went over, trying not to get her hopes up. It could be from Lyna or Ben, sharing news of their happy lives back home. It could be from her parents, like the one from Mum yesterday in which she'd informed Em that her old psychologist, Dr. Frasier, was currently living in nearby Worcester, Massachusetts and would love to hear from her.

But when she unrolled the letter, her eyes overflowed at the handwriting. It was from him. It was Brandon. And it was the shortest letter he'd ever written to her:

Emerson,

Seven-fifteen tomorrow night at the IMA terminal. Pack a weekend bag and wear a warm coat.

Brandon

Em was so relieved that she had to sit down shakily on her bed, clutching the letter to her bosom. He had written to her. He hadn't washed his hands of her. But what did that mean, pack a bag? Were they going somewhere? If he was going to break up with her, he wouldn't take her somewhere else to do it, would he, at least not a place that would require a change of clothes. And why a warm coat? It was pretty much Spring everywhere. A light jacket would be more appropriate.

"But he said 'a warm coat', so who am I to argue?" she chirped to Axel, who purred his agreement.

The questions and curiosity plagued her all through the next day so that while she sort of dreaded seeing him (because that was when she would have to confess how horrible she truly was), she couldn't wait to see him, either. The day seemed to drag by, but at last she said goodbye to Kady, who would be keeping Axel for her, and Apparated to the IMA terminal.

The fifteen minute wait for his Portkey to arrive felt like infinity to Emerson as she sat fingering the bag that she'd packed and shrunk to fit inside the pocket of her coat. But at last, she saw him emerging from one of the arrival booths. Her heart pounded erratically as she watched him approach. He stood out, there was no doubt about it. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, such calm assurance. He was dressed casually in loose, painter-style jeans, a light blue button-down shirt with a plain white t-shirt underneath and his trademark Doc Martens. But the clothes hung so well on his lanky six foot two frame that he gave off the air of being elegantly dressed up. His shiny brown hair was as thick and shaggy as usual and she fancied that from where she stood, she could see the golden flecks in his brown eyes.

Of course it took only a few strides of his long legs before he was standing in front of her and she didn't have to imagine anymore. Em felt herself blushing.

"Hi," he said.

She managed a small smile. "Hi."

They just stood there staring at each other for a minute before opening their mouths at the same time.

"Did you-"

"Where-"

They both broke off and smiled tentatively at each other and Emerson's heart jumped. "You go first," she said softly.

"Did you bring your bag?"

She nodded. "Yeah. But why?"

In response, he began to reach for her hand but almost immediately changed his mind and something in Emerson sank. It was her own fault, she knew. Every time he'd touched her lately, she'd flinched or pulled away. Was it any wonder that he was trying to protect himself from her rejection?

Brandon had reddened slightly. "Um, we're taking a trip."

"Oh. To where?"

He started to walk towards the Portkey office and she followed, trying not to feel annoyed at his lack of information. A small taste of her own medicine after all, wasn't it?

"Wait here," he said. He went into the office and returned a few minutes later with one of the IMA's baton-like Portkeys. He gestured her to follow him and she did, to one of the Departure booths. They entered and a minute later, a crisp female voice announced, "Seven-thirty to Alberta."

Em looked up at him quizzically. "Alberta? What's in Alberta?"

He gazed down into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Maybe it was the look in his eyes; maybe it was the tone of his voice. But something about the question resounded within Emerson and she found herself suddenly on the verge of tears. She had to swallow hard a few times before she could speak.

"I trust you," she choked.

He seemed emotional, too, but didn't speak, only held out the baton and she put her hand on it. Another minute and there was the familiar tug behind her navel as the Portkey activated. Her feet landed on some kind of surface that sounded hollow and she could feel the chill even through her coat. Brandon gripped her waist, steadying her, but he dropped his hands as soon as she'd regained her balance.

Trying not to notice how her skin burned at his touch even through the layers of her clothing, Emerson looked behind her. They were standing on what appeared to be the front porch of a small wooden house - no, a cabin - with wide glass-paneled windows and cozy-looking gingham curtains. There were steps on either side of the porch, upon which was a large swing which creaked slowly in the slight wind.

She turned back to him. "Brandon, where are we?"

"We're in Alberta, Canada," he replied. He gestured to their right. "And this is Lake Louise."

Em followed his gaze and let out a gasp at the sight before her. From her position on the porch, she had a clear, unobstructed view of a towering mountain peak and a nearby glacier, both of which were covered in snow. Nestled in the valley between the mountain and the glacier was a magnificent lake, the dying rays of the sun reflecting proudly off the milky turquoise water. Even as she watched, a chunk of ice broke away from the glacier, which hung slightly over one end of the lake, and splashed into the water below. All around was lush vegetation and vivid wildflowers, leading up to the wide grassy slope upon which the cabin rested. It was, without a doubt, one of the most breathtaking sights Emerson had ever beheld.

"Oh, Brandon! It's so beautiful!" she exclaimed, her mouth open and her breath coming fast, enraptured by the vision before her.

"So are you," he said, so softly that she almost didn't hear him.

She looked up quickly at him but he turned towards the cabin. "Let's go inside."

Casting a last look at the beautiful lake with its spectacular snow-capped backdrop, Em followed him inside the cabin. The first thing that she noticed was that it was deliciously warm, especially coming in from the chill. She stood still for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. They were standing in what was clearly the living room. A large, comfortable looking sofa with overstuffed cushions was in the corner nearest a good-sized fireplace, in which a hearty fire was crackling. The floors were wooden and shiny, the ceiling high and exposed. There were two recliners on either side of the room, with deep blue knitted throws over their backs. In the middle was a large, dark-stained coffee table on top of what looked like a bearskin rug. There were no lamps of any kind and the only light in the room seemed to come from the fireplace and the waning daylight through the windows. An open door on the left led somewhere out of the room and to the right was a surprisingly large kitchen.

Emerson's mind was racing as she took in everything. Brandon helped her shrug out of her coat and hung it up on a hook beside the front door. He seemed in no hurry to offer any explanations and feeling somewhat dazed, she followed him into the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?"

She hadn't thought about it but now that he mentioned it, she realized that she was starving and nodded. Without a word, he led her past the large, old-fashioned sink and to a long, wooden table beside another wide window. Through it, she could see the vivid colors of sunset beginning to be reflected on the lake and could barely tear her eyes away from the sight. But once she did, her mouth fell open again when she saw the table. It was set for two, with tall tapered candles on either end and a large vase of fresh wildflowers in the middle. Silver domes covered their meals and there was an uncorked bottle of wine to the side.

A thousand questions were zipping through Emerson's mind at high speed. Whose cabin was this? How had Brandon obtained it? Who had lit the fire, set the table, obtained the meals and wine?

But he didn't seem in any hurry to talk and she was feeling a bit too overwhelmed to ask anything. They sat and he poured them both some wine. He watched her as she took a sip and she blushed at his scrutiny.

"It's good," she whispered.

"Try the food."

She removed the silver dome in front of her and her first whiff nearly made her weep. She looked up at him, open-mouthed. "Is this-"

"Corelli's?" he supplied. "Yeah."

Emerson stared at him, trying not to burst into tears. Corelli's was her favorite restaurant in the world, located in Muggle London. Had he really had her favorite meal sent all the way here? And to think she'd been fretting that he was going to break up with her!

"You did this for me?"

His dark eyes held hers. "Eat."

She ate, even though that familiar lump was back in her throat. She ate, even though her tears threatened to overtake her at any moment. She ate, even though the guilt, the happiness, the love warred for dominance within her, making her head pound and her heart to soar. Dare she hope? Dare she hope that somehow, she hadn't ruined the best thing to ever happen to her? Dare she hope that somehow, she hadn't lost him, like she'd lost their baby?

He didn't speak through the whole meal, not once, and when they'd cleared their plates, he banished the dishes to the old-fashioned sink. "There's dessert, too. Do you want it now or later?"

Em glanced out the window. "Let's eat it later. I want to see the lake again."

"Okay," he said softly, coming around to pull her chair back.

He took her hand to help her stand and her stomach turned somersaults at his nearness. She could feel her face heating up again and found herself unable to meet his eyes. They headed back out onto the porch and Brandon cast a Warming charm around its perimeter to ward off the chill, as well as one to repel insects.

They sat together in awed silence, watching the sun sink behind the peaks bordering the lake. Emerson was feeling quite overwhelmed, by the beauty of the panorama before her and by everything that had transpired that day. She felt perpetually on the verge of tears.

And it was all because of him. Brandon was so wonderful. Everything he'd done - arranging the use of the cabin, obtaining a special Portkey that transported them directly here, even getting her favorite meal from her favorite restaurant back home!

But it wasn't only that. It was his patience, his determination to stand by her side, to support her even as she'd tried her hardest to push him away. The weight of her emotions and her pain was crushing and she'd thought she wanted, deserved, to carry it alone.

But he wouldn't let me, she thought, glancing at his profile in the fading rays of the sunset. He won't let me.

And he was right. She needed him so much. If he hadn't been with her, so consistent and resolute in spite of everything, in spite of how she'd treated him... Kady was right. She really was lucky. She was so lucky to have this wonderful man who loved her.

Swallowing hard at the lump in her throat, Em sighed and surreptitiously wiped her eyes. "It's so lovely here."

Brandon turned to look at her and his dark eyes made her breath catch in her throat. He stared at her for a long moment before he answered. "Yeah, it is. Actually, there's a story about it."

"Tell me it," she whispered.

He leaned back in the swing and put his arm around her, slowly, almost hesitantly. But this time she let him, sagging against him and feeling, in turn, the tension draining from his body as he realized that she wasn't going to flinch and pull away. Not this time.

He held her for a long time and she rested against him, breathing him in, her love for him swelling within so that the addition of one more emotion broke the ranks and her cup overflowed silently down her cheeks. Neither of them spoke, content to hold each other and let this small step do its work, while all around them the music of crickets serenaded the night and the stars twinkled overhead.

"The Legend of Lake Louise is told by the native Canadians of the area," Brandon said suddenly after an inordinate amount of silence.

For a few seconds, Em wondered what he was talking about before she remembered her last request. But he was still speaking.

"...told of a giant who saw a rainbow and decided that he wanted to use it to make a magic bow. So he climbed to the top of the highest peak of those mountains and grasped the rainbow. Of course rainbows aren't solid so it just melted in his hand. The giant was so angry that he snatched at the rest of it and smashed it against the other mountain peaks nearby.

"The Great Spirits - that's what they call their Higher Power - had to make a new rainbow to hold up the sky when it rains. But the old rainbow can still be seen. Its beauty is reflected at the bottom of Lake Louise."

The sound of his voice melted away into the night air and she sighed again. "That's a beautiful story."

Brandon turned and stared at her again, for so long and his eyes so full of emotion that her tears resumed their silent journey down her cheeks. He reached out and wiped them away, the feel of his callused fingers making her shiver slightly. "I love you."

And Emerson burst into tears, clinging to him, sobbing into his chest so hard, for so many reasons. He held her fiercely, kissing her hair, still whispering. She cried until that terrible ache inside her chest abated, until she was the one whispering how much she loved him, how sorry she was.

"I never meant to hurt you," she choked but he touched her lips with his fingertips and silenced her ramblings.

"It's okay. You were hurting. And you still hurt."

She shook her head. "That didn't mean that I could treat you the way I did! You were hurting, too. Oh, Brandon, I'm so sorry! I was just trying to push you away because I thought that if you knew the truth, you wouldn't think about me this way any more."

"Shh," he murmured, hugging her to him. "I love you. Nothing will ever change that, do you hear me? Nothing."

It would be so easy to leave it there, to let it go. He loved her. It didn't matter what she did, what she thought, he would still love her. But Emerson knew that if she kept it to herself, it would hold her back. She would never be able to truly move on unless she shared this painful secret with him.

Pulling out of his embrace, she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "Brandon, do you remember in the bathroom, when-"

"I remember. I won't ever forget it for the rest of my life," he said, his voice heavy with panic and terror. He shuddered. "I almost lost you, Emerson."

"When I saw the blood... w-when I saw it, and I realized what it m-meant, I mean I knew that it meant that the b-baby was gone a-and a-and-"

He cupped her face, looking deeply into her eyes. "Emerson, it's okay. You don't have to-"

"No, I have to tell you!" she sobbed. "Brandon, I felt relieved! When I realized what the b-blood meant, I was relieved. I was h-happy that our baby was gone! How could I have been happy? What kind of horrible, selfish- I didn't w-want our baby, Brandon! I didn't want it and then it was gone! I'm so sorry. I'm sorry!"

He was crying too now, her distress grabbing hold of him and exposing his own grief. They held each other for a long time, until they'd both calmed down somewhat, and he pulled away. "It wasn't your fault, Em. None of it. We weren't ready. It's horrible the way it happened, but it was the best thing in the end. You know that."

Em sobbed at his words and he gently cupped her face again, his eyes burning with the intensity of his emotions. "We have to move beyond this. We can't let it drag us down." His voice grew husky with feeling and tears shone in his eyes again. "Don't shut me out. I don't think I can live without you. Let me love you, Emerson."

"Yes," she whispered in a choked voice, wiping his cheeks. "Yes, Brandon."

And then he was hugging her so tightly, she could hardly breathe but that was all right because she was crushing him to her just as tightly. Their lips met, for the first time in weeks, and they both gasped at the electricity of their reconnection. He pulled her onto his lap, his tongue delving hungrily into her mouth, his hands pressing her to him. Emerson gripped his hair and kissed him back just as frantically. Her ears were ringing with the passion infusing the air around them and they broke away, gulping mouthfuls of oxygen before they were kissing again.

Finally they pulled apart, panting, nuzzling each other with lips and hands as if unable to help themselves. Emerson's whole body hummed with a feeling she much recognized and which, since the miscarriage, she had fought against: desire. She wanted him, the only man who had ever inspired that particular emotion in her, that deep, maddening need.

But although he was gazing up at her, his dark eyes burning with the exact same wanting that she knew her own eyes were filled with, although she felt the evidence of his desire against her thigh from her perch atop his lap, she knew he wouldn't make the first move. Not after having been rebuffed before. A man could only take so much bruising to his ego before he wised up.

Blushing slightly, Em leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed her back but otherwise didn't react, though his eyes burned even more. Reaching for his hands, she lifted them and placed them on her breasts, her eyes not leaving his.

"Touch me, Odie."

He swallowed visibly and closed his eyes for a second. "Are you sure? We don't have to do this if you're not ready. We don't-"

"Please," she whispered, leaning into his hands. "I need you."

He let out a ragged breath. "Is it safe?"

Em nodded. "Yes. I took the second dose of the Estralevon today. April 18th. Which means it expires on-"

"-August 18th," they said in unison and smiled weakly at each other.

Brandon crushed her to him suddenly. "Oh, God. Oh, Emerson. We must never let that happen again."

"Never," she repeated. "Never."

"Not until we're both ready. Not until the time is right," he said fervently before his lips reclaimed hers.

His hands found her breasts again, caressing them and squeezing her nipples and Emerson surrendered to him, to everything. Her body seemed to make up for its weeks-long abstinence by being ultra-sensitive so that everywhere he touched immediately burned with a fierce fire. He turned her around so that her back was to his chest and unbuttoned her jeans. She raised her bum so he could push them down her legs along with her knickers and shivered when his fingers trailed up the soft skin of her inner thighs. She moaned loudly when he found her, her hips moving with his hand, his mouth hot against the side of her neck, his other hand alternating between her breasts, every sensation combining, merging, building so that it didn't take long for her to shatter against his expertly probing fingers. She bucked helplessly in his lap, her head thrown back against his shoulder as her cries rang through the cold air and mingled with the sounds of the night.

He held her until she quieted, then pulled her knickers and jeans back up, kissing her softly. Wrapping her trembling legs around his waist, he carried her back inside the cabin and into the bedroom, still kissing her. They made love that night and it was beautiful and tender. They both cried afterwards, acknowledging that another of the first real hurdles to their healing had been surmounted. And when she lay sated and exhausted in his arms, Emerson sent up a silent prayer that they would truly recover and in every way.

He'd been right earlier when he said she still hurt. A part of her would always hurt, would always mourn the loss of something that she hadn't even wanted in the first place, and she doubted that her guilt in that regard would ever really go away. But it was like he'd said, when the time was right and they were ready... someday, dare she hope?

Don't think about that, a voice scolded inside her head. One step at a time, okay?

One step at a time. So, with a sigh, Emerson cuddled closer to the warm body of the man she loved. He dropped a kiss on her still damp forehead and she closed her eyes and drifted peacefully into restful slumber within his embrace.

********
TBC
********

End Notes:

1. Lake Louise is a real lake in Banff National Park in Alberta, Canada. And no, I've never been there. That was a "My family went to ____, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" experience. They went skiing in that area and I couldn't go because of school. Yeah, sucks, I know, but I'm over it now. A picture of Lake Louise, the glacier and the mountain can be seen
here
. The word "magnificent" doesn't do it justice.

2. I don't know if the Legend of Lake Louise is a real legend but I distinctly recall reading it in a storybook I had when I was younger. I haven't been able to find it anywhere or online. I memorize the weirdest things.

14. XIV

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I really, truly appreciate it massively. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to reply to your reviews but I do read every one of them and will get back to responding as soon as possible. Many thanks, as always, to Liss for being my beta. Enjoy the chapter and please leave a comment. Thank you!

XIV

Brandon dreamed he was in heaven.

He found that, contrary to popular belief, heaven wasn't light and brightness. Heaven was a dark place. Heaven was a tight spot and moist. Heaven was hot, but not uncomfortably so. Heaven was quiet except for the faintest little sighs, the vaguest little sounds of friction. Heaven was-

His eyes flew open and a soft moan escaped his throat as consciousness crashed into him. Oh, he was in heaven, all right. And heaven was being inside Emerson. It was lying flat on his back on a huge bed in a cabin in Alberta, Canada, with the woman he loved on top and him buried deeply within her, ready to burst with rapture. What a breathtaking sight she was, her back arched and her head thrown back so that her long hair almost brushed the top of her bum, the peaks of her small breasts jutting proudly into the early morning air.

She was grinding her hips slowly on top of him, back and forth, back and forth, until he thought he would go mad if she didn't do something else. Anything else. But her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, her forehead creased with concentration. She seemed lost in her own blissful world and he was loath to disturb her. So instead, he grasped handfuls of the blankets and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to grip her hips and thrust madly up into her.

Emerson, please.

As if she'd heard his silent plea, she suddenly changed the rhythm of her motions. Now it was as if she were dancing to music only she could hear and Brandon's eyes nearly rolled back in his head. Her hips were undulating, rotating, swiveling, side to side, back and forth, figure eights, zig-zag, everything but up and down and he wanted to scream. She moaned softly and he couldn't help the answering groan that escaped his throat. She didn't seem to notice but her movements picked up, the sounds coming more often as her walls rippled involuntarily along his length. Her long mane swung at her back, her breathing ragged, the trademark whimpers issuing now from her mouth as her body hunched over him, her hips moving faster and faster. The feel of her soft hair brushing his stomach was almost more than he could bear and as her muscles clenched tightly around him, he groaned deeply and let go. His body jerked as he came in a rush, the pleasure being heightened by the way she was contracting around him as her shoulders shook with the force of her release.

Emerson collapsed on top of him, gasping, her soft, fragrant hair pillowing his face, her breasts pressed to his chest and he just lay limply beneath her. When he regained his senses, he brushed her hair away from her face and trailed his hands down her sweaty back.

"Man, that's quite something to wake up to," he murmured contentedly.

She didn't answer and after few seconds, he realized that she'd fallen right back to sleep. Smiling lazily, he shifted until he was on his side and she was cuddled up next to him. The clock on the bedside table said it was just after four o'clock in the morning, which wasn't at all surprising. This habit had, in fact, been their downfall, the source of the past months of pain and separation that they'd endured, because Brandon was certain that Em had conceived during one of these early morning sessions. At the moment, they were safe, but it was definitely something they needed to talk about.

He was feeling too blissful to really think about anything though and closing his eyes, he fell asleep again.

When he woke up the second time, it was to bright sunlight streaming in through the window. Rolling over, he realized that he was alone in the bed but the delicious smells that were drifting into the room informed him immediately of her whereabouts. He stretched luxuriously, the tautness of his muscles making him grimace, but then he smiled as he recalled why he was so sore. Last night had been phenomenal. He would be lying if he said he hadn't missed making love to Emerson, and it had been so hard being around her and not being able to touch her, especially with knowing how wonderful touching her really was.

Turning over the events of the past few weeks in his mind, Brandon exhaled a heavy sigh. Em's confession about her reaction to the miscarriage had been a bit of a surprise. He hadn't expected that she could've felt that way, but it wasn't all that shocking when he really thought about it. She was young and focused. Driven. She knew what she wanted and she wasn't afraid to go for it. So it wasn't abnormal for her to have responded that way to something so life-changing and unexpected. It was only natural that she would've appreciated the ultimate result of that horrible event, that it meant her life wasn't going to change so drastically after all.

And he couldn't blame her for reacting that way. Merlin knew he certainly wasn't protesting the end results himself. He just couldn't see himself with a child, not now. There was so much he hadn't yet accomplished, so much he wanted to do. Brandon had no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be with Emerson for the rest of his life. He wanted to be her husband, to be the father of her children. He would do the former in a heartbeat, but not the latter. Not yet. And mercifully, they'd been let off the hook. He only hoped that they would be able to emerge stronger and more unified than they had been before.

Sighing again, he pushed the covers off and swung his legs out of the bed. After taking a long, hot shower, he dressed and followed his nose to the kitchen. He heard her before he saw her and his heart pounded in his chest as he stopped in the doorway and listened.

...you gave me water that refreshes me in every part
You are so beautiful,
and more loving more than words can say
You are my beloved,
and my happiness in every way.

Her voice trailed off into humming as she stretched to remove some dishes from the cupboard over the sink, and he stared at the sliver of skin that was revealed when the hem of her top traveled with her upward movement. Emerson turned around with the dishes and looked up, and he forgot to breathe when she smiled at him.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she said.

Brandon gulped before managing to smile back. "Hey. Something sure smells good."

"Breakfast," she said, turning to place the dishes on the table. "Or perhaps I should say brunch."

He walked over and slid his arms around her waist as she straightened up, nuzzling her neck. "You smell even better."

"Thank you."

He was pleased to note that she sounded rather breathless and turning her around, he cupped her face and kissed her. She sighed against his lips, her arms coming around him to rest lightly against his lower back. Brandon touched her lips with his tongue and she opened for him, plunging him into a world so delicious that he nearly swooned. He felt like he never wanted to stop, but soon breathing became an issue and they pulled apart, gasping.

"Wow," she murmured, her eyes closed, a lazy smile stretching her mouth. "God, I've missed this."

He hugged her to him. "Me too." How he had missed it!

After a long moment, she pulled away and took his hand. "Let's eat. I'm starving!"

They sat and helped themselves to kippers, eggs and bacon, as well as toast and marmalade, washing everything down with glasses of ice-cold pumpkin juice. It was only after most of her plate had been cleared that Emerson sighed and leaned back.

"That's better." She took a sip of her juice and fixed him with a look of curiosity. "So, tell me."

He gazed back at her quizzically. "Tell you what?"

She gestured vaguely. "Whose cabin is this? How did you get it? Who brought up the food and wine? Who lit the fire? I've been snooping around all morning but there isn't so much as a photograph in here."

Glancing around the room, Brandon grinned. "You're right. I didn't realize he'd put away the pictures and stuff. Guess he felt we'd be more comfortable without all these images watching us, so to speak. But the cabin belongs to the family of one of my co-workers. Remember Piers Wagoner? Short, pudgy bloke with that sleek ponytail?"

Her eyes widened. "Really? This is his?"

"His parents'. They're Muggles and they come up here every winter to ski on the nearby slopes. Apparently there's really good skiing to be had around here. Not that I know the first thing about it or anything."

"Cool," she said, looking impressed. "But what about the food? Corelli's! Did you-"

Brandon shrugged. "Piers owed me a favor so he got me permission to use the cabin. Then I sent him shopping in Muggle London and told him what to bring up. I wanted to do it myself but there wasn't enough time to handle it all and meet you in Boston as well."

She gazed tearily at him before reaching across the table to grasp his hand. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he said, squeezing her hand. "I love you, Emerson. I would do anything for you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, her eyes shining with tears.

They both sighed heavily and smiled before turning their attention back to the meal. After a while, he put down his fork. "So what was that you were singing?"

She frowned. "When?"

"Just a while ago. Something about water that refreshes in every part."

"Oh," she said, smiling widely all of a sudden. "It's called Rose of Sharon. My grandfather, Herb, taught it to me. He said he used to sing it in church when he was a little boy in Jamaica. It just popped into my head when I was cooking."

He grinned at her. "Well, not to be blasphemous or anything, but the words of that song applied to you perfectly, as far as I'm concerned."

Emerson blushed.

Once the meal was over, they set the dishes to washing themselves and eagerly headed outside so they could truly see Lake Louise in all her splendor. The sheer beauty of the scene had Brandon gazing in silent awe as the sunlight glinted off the surface of the lake and the reflections of the mountains and trees rippled in the water all around.

"This. Is. Fucking. Magnificent," Em breathed reverently as they stood atop the grassy slope, looking down at the vista before them, and Brandon could only nod mutely. "Let's go down to the water," she added suddenly.

Tugging on his hand, she laughed and began to run down the small hill, and his heart soared within him at the sound. This was the first time he'd heard her laugh since the beginning of January and his happiness was almost too much to bear. With a laugh of his own, he ran after her and as the hill ended, they both had to try really hard not to let their momentum propel them right into the chilly lake. It turned out to be a very close shave and they held onto each other hysterically for a moment. Emerson's cheeks were flushed with exertion and delight and her green eyes shone with amusement as she hung onto his arms. She was so beautiful and he couldn't help but lean over and kiss her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, and they held each other as they stared up at the towering mountain and its neighboring glacier.

"The mountain is Mount Victoria and the glacier is called Victoria Glacier," he said after a while. "All this is in what's called Banff National Park, situated in the Canadian Rockies. According to Piers, there are a lot of other lakes around here and this one is tiny in comparison. It's only about two kilometres long, half a kilometre wide and about seventy metres deep."

She sighed blissfully. "It's gorgeous, though. The water is so blue!"

"Piers explained about that, too. If I remember correctly, he said it's because the silt in the water is suspended and when the sun shines on it, the silt particles absorb all the spectrum of colors except green and blue."

Emerson stared at him for a moment, a look of adoration in her eyes before she leaned over and kissed him softly. Neither of them spoke for a long time, content to hold each other in the bright sunlight and watch the surface of the lake being disturbed by the occasional fish, while from everywhere came the noises of birds and the rustle of trees in the wind.

"Where does that go?" she asked suddenly, pointing to his left.

He turned to look. "There are hiking trails all around here. That must be one of them."

"Cool! Let's go hiking!" she said excitedly. "Yeah?"

He grinned at her enthusiasm. "Okay."

After Apparating back to the cabin, they quickly changed into more appropriate clothing and packed a picnic lunch to take with them, which they shrunk to fit in a pocket of Em's shorts. Neither of them had hiking boots so they just transfigured their trainers into what they needed. Brandon secured the cabin with his wand and they set off down the hill, at a much calmer pace this time.

The trail was well-marked and appeared to have gotten a fair amount of use. They walked leisurely, taking in the sights and sounds of nature while maintaining an easy chatter. Occasionally, they would both freeze at the sight of deer or elk, and once they saw what Emerson insisted was a bear, which Brandon rather doubted. It had probably just been a moose or something.

"So you're saying there are no bears around here?" she demanded.

"No, I'm not saying that. There are bears, but I don't think what we saw was a bear."

She scowled at him. "It was too a bear! What, you don't think I know what a bear looks like?"

He grinned. "Um, do you?" She swatted at him and he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. Biting playfully at her neck, he growled. "I am the bear."

Em laughed but they soon left off their playing and began to snog like teenagers, right in the middle of the trail. Then they walked for another half-hour, holding hands the entire time, and just as Brandon was about to suggest that they have at that picnic lunch, Emerson squeezed his fingers tightly and stopped.

"Do you hear that?"

He pretended to be frightened. "What? Is it a bear?"

"No, Odie!" she said, rolling her eyes. "I think it's water. Listen."

He listened and after a moment heard it, the faint but unmistakable roar of moving water. Emerson's eyes were shining and without a word, they hurried down the trail in the direction of the sound. They had to double back and abandon the path, but he wasn't worried. They could always just Apparate back to the cabin when it was time to go. The thundering sound kept getting louder and louder and after nearly ten minutes of pushing their way through brush and tall grass, they emerged on a wide, grassy ledge and gaped open-mouthed.

Spread out beside them was a shallow but powerful river. The ledge ended abruptly and with nowhere else to go, the river plunged forty feet straight down in a torrent of white water, continuously feeding a small, deep lake below. A lush meadow lay on one side of the lake while dense forest bordered the rest of it.

Em's lips moved but he couldn't hear her over the thundering of the water before them. Her eyes were wide and filled with wonder and the tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail were rapidly curling in the humid, moisture-filled air.

She leaned closer to him and shouted, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What?" he shouted back.

"We can have lunch in that meadow down there," she answered, pointing at the grassy expanse beside the lake.

He looked down and back at her. "Okay. You want to Apparate?"

"No!" she said, looking incredulous. "We jump!"

Jump? Jump? Brandon's eyes widened as he realized what she meant. "What? Are you crazy! That's a good forty foot drop, Emerson!"

"I know," she said, grinning widely. "But the water looks really deep in the lake. It'd be awesome! Come on, Brandon, live a little!"

"Em, I don't think it's a good idea," he began worriedly.

But she was already placing Unbreakable charms on the picnic basket in her pocket, as well as on the holster for her wand. After leaning over for a better look at the lake, she turned back to him, frowning slightly. "Do you remember the charm to measure distance and depth?"

His brow furrowed for a second before he grinned at her, catching her drift. "Yeah. I have to keep it in mind for my job when I need to check if teams are keeping the regulations. Sometimes they try to cheat by making their pitches smaller than required." Drawing his own wand, he pointed it at the lake. "Fastigium Lacus Metiri!"

A startlingly blue beam of light shot out of the wand and soared into the water. Brandon could feel his wand vibrating slightly as the light disappeared from sight. When he used the spell at work, the light would travel to the opposite end of the pitch from where he stood, bouncing from one end to the other, and return to him with an accurate measurement of all the pitch's dimensions. The whole thing usually didn't take more than a minute or two, and apparently it was no different with water, because about a minute later, the light returned to him. The blue beam twisted itself into small letters, proclaiming that the lake had an unobstructed depth of seventy-eight feet, a diameter of seventeen, a circumference of-

"Okay, that should be safe enough to jump into, yes?" Em said happily. After placing her wand securely back in the holster, she pecked him quickly on the lips, her emerald eyes shining with mischief. "See you down there."

Before he could react, she'd taken a running leap off the ledge and was hurtling straight for the lake below, her scream of exhilaration rising even above the noise of the falls. Brandon's heart was in his mouth as he watched her hit the water feet first and disappear, and he watched frantically for her to come back up. After what felt like an eternity, he saw her dark head break the surface and heard her gleeful laughter.

"WHOO-HOO!" she shouted maniacally, raising her arms above her. "Odie, come down! The water's great!"

He laughed with relief and quickly secured his own wand. Taking a deep breath, he backed up a ways and ran across the ledge. It ended abruptly and he was soaring through the air, the falling water whipping his face, his yell of sheer excitement getting lost in the rumbling of the glorious fountain. His stomach jumped into his throat as the lake rushed up to meet him and then he was under, the thunder dulling for a few seconds before his head resurfaced. Then it all came rushing back, the noise, the sunlight, the water.

And her.

She jumped onto him, laughing. "Oh my gosh! Wasn't that absolutely insane! Wasn't that awesome?"

"Yeah," he said, laughing with her as they clung to each other joyously in the cold water. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at her and maybe it was the way her eyes shone. Maybe it was the droplets of moisture clinging to her eyelashes and lips. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins after what he had just done.

Whatever the reason, Brandon found that he was suddenly harder than he had ever been in his entire life, and that was saying something. From the look in her eyes, he knew she felt the tension too and suddenly their lips were fused and they were kissing hungrily. The lake was too deep to stand in securely and as his eyes darted around for a place, any place, he saw the steep wall of the ledge, perfectly smoothed by countless millennia of rushing water.

They swam over and he backed her up against it, his hands pushing her tank up so his mouth could latch onto her breast. She moaned loudly and he turned his attention to the other one, while she fumbled with his button and zipper. The very air seemed to rumble with urgency as he pushed her shorts and underwear down her legs. She stepped out of them and he picked her up and pressed her into the wall as she reached down to guide him to her entrance. Brandon nearly passed out when he slid into her, such wetness, but oh, this was a different wetness than that which buoyed them. This was a hot, maddening slickness and he had no control over the motion of his hips. He pounded into her desperately, his blood boiling to a fever pitch within him so that even though he'd only just began, he knew the end was in sight.

Groaning, he nipped at her neck. "Emerson. Oh fuck. I can't- I can't hold-"

Emerson wrapped her arms around him and licked the shell of his ear. "Come for me."

She clenched her muscles hard around him and he obeyed her command instantly, crying out as he gushed into her like a faucet, his body jerking with the spasms of ecstasy. His orgasm seemed to go on for ages but at last, he slumped against her, trembling and breathless, his ears ringing. She held him until his senses cleared then he slipped out of her and helped her stand.

Smiling, she kissed him lightly on the lips before stooping to take off her boots and socks. Standing up, she pulled her tank top over her head and released her hair from its ponytail. It tumbled about her shoulders in sodden ebony curls and ringlets and Brandon gaped at the vision standing naked before him. Her olive skin was smooth and unblemished, her small breasts proud and well-shaped. Her stomach was flat, her waist narrow, curving into the swell of her hips and long, shapely legs. Nestled between them was that neat little patch of dark hair, the place where he'd just lost himself, the place that he called heaven and home.

"Let's go swimming," she said, before turning and wading away into the water. When it got deep enough, she dove and resurfaced a few feet away, her long hair floating around her. "Well, don't just stand there, Wood!"

Feeling slightly dazed, he slipped out of his clothes too and swam out to meet her. As he neared, she grinned impishly and took off in the other direction.

Brandon laughed as he watched her. So she wanted to play, did she? "Well, Emerson, after the paradise you just took me to, you can have anything you want," he murmured quietly to himself.

He gave her a head start before beginning his pursuit. They were both strong swimmers but he was taller so he overtook her easily and grabbed her from behind. She shrieked, whipping around to splash him and a furious water fight ensued. It was ended when he dunked her and she resurfaced, laughing so hard that she had to hold onto him for support.

"All right, all right," she gasped, chuckling. "Okay."

She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he treaded water, keeping them afloat. Brandon stared into her green eyes, loving her. "I'm sorry I lost it before you could... you know..."

"That's okay," she answered, sounding rather demure. But then she leaned forward and her warm breath against his ear sent a tingle down his spine. "I like that you couldn't wait. It makes me feel powerful."

And she was gone, swimming back to the smooth wall of the ledge while he gaped after her like an imbecile. Still treading water, he watched her gather their discarded clothing and vanish.

"Over here!" she called, before his lovesick brain could conjure up panic or anything like it.

She was standing in the lush green meadow bordering the lake and after a moment of concentration, he was beside her again. The sun beaming down on their bare skin felt quite pleasant so they didn't bother to put their clothes back on. He returned the picnic basket to normal size and they helped each other spread out the large, checkered blanket.

Emerson sat down on it and, wand in hand, began to peer all around the nearby grass.

"What're you looking for?" he asked curiously.

"A stick."

He refrained from pointing out that she had one in her hand and after a bit of glancing around of his own, spotted one. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

Brandon watched her transfigure the stick into a large-toothed comb and understood. Her hair tended to curl when it got wet and rather than charming it dry like she usually did, she apparently intended to let it drain naturally this time. He couldn't take his eyes off her, mesmerized by the way her breasts lifted when she raised her arms, the way droplets of water dripped from her hair onto her shoulders and rolled down her torso, disappearing into the much tamer curls between her crossed legs.

He gulped, feeling himself getting rather warm. Trying to hide his body's reaction, he crawled over and knelt behind her. "Here, let me," he said, reaching for the comb.

"Hmm?" she said absently. He tugged on it and she relinquished hold. "Oh."

Leaning back on his haunches, he gathered her hair away from her face and began to run the comb slowly and carefully through it. He'd never done this before, with anyone, and was surprised to find himself rather enjoying it. Her hair was thick and silky soft and he focused on gently getting the tangles out, trying not to pull too much. The texture of the long, dark strands felt very pleasing in his hands and he got so caught up in what he was doing that it took a few seconds for her sniffles to register.

But when they did, he stopped and quickly looked down at her. "What is it? Did I pull too hard?"

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "No. I'm just so happy." She looked up at him and fresh tears welled up. "I love you, Brandon. I was so scared that I'd lost you!"

"But you didn't lose me," he whispered, hugging her fiercely. "I'm right here and I don't plan to ever leave you." Hesitating for a moment, he plunged on. "In fact, I think you're going to be quite stuck with me. For a long, long time."

"That's okay," she said, hugging him back. "I want to be stuck with you. For a long, long time."

They both pulled away and looked at each other, silently acknowledging that much more had just been shared between them than the mere stated words. Emerson was blushing and Brandon's heart hammered inside him as he returned his attention to untangling her hair. When it finally flowed in a neat river of waves down her back, he handed her back the comb.

"Thank you," she said softly, raising her face to kiss him.

He kissed her back and the heat resumed its journey through his being so that he surged erect again. She must have felt it because she broke the kiss and, not taking her eyes off his, grasped him in her hand. Brandon sucked in a breath as she began to stroke him and his eyes drifted shut. They flew open again when he felt her mouth envelope him and although it nearly killed him to do so, he pulled away.

She frowned and he smiled at her. "Your turn."

His lips were on hers before she could protest and he pushed her gently back onto the blanket, covering her body with his. Resting his weight on one elbow, he kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth until she was panting. His other hand trailed down her sides and over her smooth, flat stomach, the muscles jumping under his caress. She moaned when the hand traveled further, tickling the soft hair of her mound and her legs fell open in anticipation. He cupped her for a moment before stroking her slowly, his fingers dipping into her warmth briefly and withdrawing. He smiled at her whimper of dismay as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and tasted her, then kissed her again, sharing her own flavor with her.

"Brandon," she moaned.

He slid down her body and suckled hard at her left breast until she cried out, her hands coming up to hold his head in place. After moving to lavish attention on the other taut peak, his mouth continued downward, kissing and nipping and caressing every inch of her soft skin. At last he reached his destination, his heaven and home. Her aroma surrounded him and he felt himself harden even more as he held her legs apart and dipped his head. She arched into his mouth, moaning loudly and he set to work, worshiping at her most sacred and intimate spot. His tongue jabbed into her and she sobbed, her thighs trembling, her hands clenching and unclenching around handfuls of the checkered blanket.

"Ah, Brandon!" she cried, stiffening for a long minute before the tension burst and she flooded his tongue with her nectar, bucking against his mouth.

Brandon crawled back up her body and settled between her legs. Sliding into her, he was immediately grateful for the earlier release he'd had because otherwise he'd have lost it instantly. She was so hot, so wet, pulsing around him, and he began to move, thrusting slowing into and out of her. Her mouth opened in a silent cry and he kissed her before pulling her up. He sat up so that she was straddling his lap, her breasts pressed against his chest, her harshly expelled breaths warm and loud in his ear.

"Oh God, oh yes," she moaned as he grasped her hips and began to move her on him. Placing her feet flat on the blanket on either side of him, she began to ride him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her head thrown back.

Brandon wrapped his arms tightly around her, pressing her to him as his lips plundered the soft skin of her neck. His hands wandered down to cup her buttocks and he leaned over slightly, increasing the angle and depth of his penetration.

Emerson went wild. "Yes, Brandon! Oh fuck, yes!" she cried, moving on him so hard and fast that the possibility of the occurrence of some kind of pelvic fracture flitted through his mind before being washed away by the mind-blowing sensations of her muscles going haywire around him. She screamed and shuddered in his arms, clutching him so tightly within that he saw stars as he lowered her back to the blanket and allowed his passion to consume him. He pounded her like a man possessed, her cries echoing in his ears over the rush of the waterfall behind them until everything was momentarily silenced by the roar of pleasure that engulfed him.

Upon floating back to earth, they lay in a stunned and trembling heap on the checkered blanket, their limbs tangled together and sweaty. Brandon kept his eyes closed even after his heart had resumed its resting rate, too worn out to even lift his eyelids. The air was beginning to get cooler and after a while, his stomach began making its presence known, reminding him that they hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Raising his head, he smiled over at her. "You asleep?"

"No," she said, without opening her eyes.

"Reckon we should get to scarfing down that picnic?"

She sighed. "Would that require moving?"

"I'm afraid so," he said, grinning.

"I think I'll pass then," she murmured lazily. "I'm not sure I want to ever move from this blissful place."

Chuckling, Brandon reached for the picnic basket and began taking out the food they'd packed. "We never did get around to eating dessert last night, did we? Cause there's tiramisu from Corel-"

"Give it here," Em interrupted, sitting up abruptly, her green eyes gleaming. "Now that you mention it, I'm famished. That was hard work, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," he agreed, leering at her. "Very hard work."

Em colored slightly and took a big bite of her sandwich. They set to eating ravenously, but even before they'd finished the cool, creamy Italian dessert, their exhaustion began to overtake them.

It had been a long, fun and extremely pleasurable day, a day of reconnection and healing, and they were worn out. Brandon waved his wand to pack up and, still naked, they stood up and held onto each other. They Apparated to the porch of the cabin, where he removed the locking wards and they stumbled inside. Dropping the picnic basket on the kitchen counter, they staggered to the bedroom, collapsed on the bed and fell promptly asleep.

They slept for a long time, but that was okay; there wasn't anything they needed to attend to. The rest of the weekend was spent lazing around outside in the shadow of Mount Victoria and Victoria Glacier, and in enjoying the beauty and serenity of the lake. They talked a lot, cried a bit, indulged in some more mind-blowing sex, and made a few important decisions about their relationship. One of which was regarding their early-morning-quickie habit, which both of them readily acknowledged was a very wonderful thing. But it had also already proved to be extremely dangerous, and they both knew that continuing to take such risks would be the height of folly and irresponsibility. Since it was only during the Estralevon resting period that the risk existed, it was agreed that Emerson would talk to her mother about alternative, non-Charms forms of contraception to utilize during those times.

"I wish we didn't have to leave," Em said wistfully, staring out at the lake as they stood on the porch in the twilight.

They had cleaned and tidied up the whole cabin and everything they'd brought with them had been shrunk to fit on their persons. Now they were waiting for the Portkey to activate and return them to Boston.

"Yeah," Brandon said, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "But we could always come back."

She looked up at him. "Do you think we will?"

He stared back at her. This weekend had seen them make tremendous strides in reconnecting and healing after the past, brutal months of pain and separation. Their coming together again was something he was so incredibly thankful for because he loved this woman more than life itself. To be back on the right track with her and to once again be assured of her love, there was no price big enough to be placed on that. And he knew that the magic of their surroundings had had a large part to play in it all.

So in response to her question, he just smiled. Emerson smiled back and they held each other silently as the minutes ticked by. When the Portkey activated, both their eyes were trained on the water below them and as the wooden porch beneath their feet and the world disappeared, Brandon knew he hadn't seen the last of beautiful Lake Louise.

*******
TBC
*******

End Notes:

1. Once again, a picture of the magnificent vista of Lake Louise, Victoria Glacier and Mount Victoria can be found
here

2. An excellent source of information about Lake Louise, the mountain and the glacier, as well as descriptions was obtained from
this
article.

3. The song that Em sings is a song children sing in Jamaica.

15. XV

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers of the last chapter! This is another one of all letters. Your comments would be welcome. Thanks.

XV

May 10

Dear Brandon,

Argh, another post-visit letter! I think these are the very hardest to write, because it's almost as if you haven't really left. Your scent still clings to my room and my sheets, and my body still feels sensitive from that last desperate (and fantastic!) shag.

But this was such a great weekend, wasn't it? I really cherish how we are able to talk so freely with each other once more, especially after the few months that were wasted after our ordeal. That was primarily my fault because you were making the effort to come down every weekend and be supportive, while I remained preoccupied with self-blame and self-pity. I will always regret that wasted time but on the upside, it has made me incredibly appreciative of the time we do have together now. I want to get to know you so much more than I already do. Sometimes I can't believe that we've been good friends for almost ten years. Seems incredible, doesn't it?

Man, I can't get over how gorgeous Lake Louise was! Even though it's been almost a month since we were there, the beauty of it refuses to leave my mind, as if the images of the glacier, the mountains and lakes have been seared into my memory. And wasn't leaping over that waterfall fucking brilliant? I know, I raved about it all during your last visit, but I can't get over it! 'Tis all your fault for taking me there, haha. I really hope we can go back, and I want us to make it a tradition. Do you think Piers' family would allow us to borrow or rent the cabin at least once a year? Or even sell it to us, if we can scrape together enough money! That would be so awesome, to own that cabin, with the spectacular view and location that it has!

Not to mention the memories. That was the place where we broke down the walls that had erupted between us and were able to reconnect. I'm so happy that we weathered that storm. I'm sure there will be other difficult times ahead for us, but just knowing that we were able to get through this first one, and emerge stronger than we were before it, gives me hope.

Anyway, guess what? My parents are coming over this Friday to spend the weekend with me! I can't wait! I haven't seen them since early January. If you recall, they all (Mum, Dad, Ben, Budget and Vina) were planning to come visit over the Easter break. But then that mystery virus broke out and as head of that department, Mum couldn't come. Meanwhile Dad had to attend to some emergency Puddlemere matters and of course they weren't going to send my young siblings over by themselves, so the visit had to be put off. That was quite a bummer, but it turned out that I probably wouldn't have gotten to spend very much time with them if they'd been here. A great influx of sick and injured animals came into the hospital that weekend and we were insanely busy. I doubt I got more than ten hours of sleep over those two days.

But this weekend should be much more sedate for me, and Matt Adler agreed to cover my shifts at Morningside. In exchange, he wants me to help him with some Microbiology homework, which is a very weird swap, don't you think? But since I'm so far along in the program, it shouldn't be that hard, as I did that particular homework weeks ago and am onto stuff that they'll not be covering until next term. Matt's a quick study, anyway, and he always gets so excited when he figures something out. He'll say "Ah ha!" and give me a big hug.

So, your birthday is coming up month after next! I tried to talk to you about what you wanted to do, but you kept turning the subject back onto me. I can't believe I'll be twenty-two years old next month. But I think yours is a bigger milestone - a quarter century on the planet, Odie! Twenty-five whopping years! That deserves a big bash, a celebration of some sort, don't you think? Let me know what you would like to do, will ya?

Anyway, I gotta run. Oh, I just asked Axel if there's anything he'd like me to pass along and he started purring up a storm. So Axel says to tell you howdy and that he likes you very much, haha.

I love you madly. Write back soon, okay?

Love,
Emerson

*********

May 12

Em,

Yeah, I know what you mean about the first letter after a visit being the hardest. I keep expecting to wake up to you beside me but then I roll over and it's like, Oh, right. But hey, we're almost through the first year! Only one more to go, eh?

I'm glad we're back on the right track, as well. Of course at the time we couldn't see it, but now I realize that it's to our benefit that we endured that rough patch in our relationship. It has made us so much stronger, I think. Kind of like how when a bone breaks and heals, the point where the healing occurred is much stronger than the surrounding bone. Does that make sense? I know we're not quite out of the woods yet. Heck, we will never be truly out of the woods, because a relationship is always growing, always evolving and will always take work. But this is one work I truly enjoy. (Get your mind out of the gutter, you!)

Hey, that's a good idea about making a visit to Lake Louise a tradition. Just the two of us. I'm sure Piers' family won't mind. He said his parents were impressed by how clean and orderly we left it, so I guess we're in their good graces. I dunno if they'd be willing to sell it, though. Let's talk about that next time I come over, okay?

I'm glad your parents will be able to visit; I know they've missed you cause they're always asking me about you after I come back from a visit. And think about it, it was probably for the best that they didn't visit over Easter cause you were still caught up in the depression. Your Mum, for one, would've taken one look at you and known instantly that something was up and between the two of them, they'd've had you spilling your guts in no time. Then your Dad would've hopped back over the pond and my arse would currently be six feet under, pushing up dandelions. So, all's well that ends well I suppose.

Seems like that Matt Adler bloke pops up everywhere you are. He's in that biology class, he works with you at the hospital, he hangs out with you and Krishna. I must admit that I don't like how touchy-feely he sounds with you. But at least he knows how to barter. I'd want your help with homework too, if I needed it.

For my birthday, I don't really have anything in mind other than spending it with you. Just being with you will be celebration enough for me.

Tell Axel I like him too, the greedy little berk.

Love you,
Brandon

********

May 29

Odie,

Well, this is a short one cause my professors just dumped a shitload of assignments on me. I met with my academic advisor today and she claimed to be impressed by how well I'm handling my course load. If you recall, it took a bit of persuasion for her to agree to allow me to handle the program the way I am. I'm working at a very good clip, and it's like you said a couple letters ago, we're almost through the first year and only one more to go.

I'm really excited about that, being at the halfway mark. Makes my dream seem so much more realistic, like it just might come true after all. I do have my moments when I wonder what the hell I was thinking, trying to do so much in so little time. But I have to admit that I'm enjoying myself quite a bit.

If I'm not mistaken, did I detect a bit of jealousy towards Matt Adler? He's really nice, Brandon. He's been great in helping me get settled here, with showing me around in my first few weeks and introducing me to Doc Meriwether at Morningside. I consider him a friend, just the way I consider Kady or Krishna to be friends. Next time you come over, maybe you and he could hang out a bit, and you'll see that he's a nice person.

Turns out that my parents will be throwing me a birthday party here, after all. We talked about that when they were here last weekend (which was awesome, did I mention! Most young people my age can't stand to be around their parents for very long, but I love being with my Mum and Dad. Even my friends were pulling me aside to whisper in awed tones about how cool my folks are.) They wanted me to come home but I'm on a roll here and I don't want to mess with it. But at least Hogwarts will be out around that time so Budget and Vina will be able to come over. I can't wait to see them, and Lyna and Davis are planning to be here too. It'll be my first time seeing Lyna's belly (though of course she's sent me pictures and so much information that I'm almost as excited as she is, in spite of my own painful experience). I hate that I won't be seeing you at the usual time next month but on the upside, it means you'll be able to be here for the party.

Don't worry, I definitely plan to be with you for your birthday. A whopping twenty-five!

Gotta run, but please know that you're never far from my thoughts, my sweet. I love you.

Em

******

June 18

Dear Emerson,

Today I sorted through all the letters I've received from you since you've been at Harvard and guess how many there are? Over a hundred and thirty! And it's only been about nine months since you moved. At the rate we're going, we'll be able to fill a couple of those Muggle encyclopedias by the end. Can you imagine how many miles those poor owls have logged? I don't envy them.

God, I miss you. I wish I could've come over last week but I have to wait for your party. At least it's only next week. Fucking Warezell. He keeps piling me with work. I can't wait for the summer cause the department will be hiring some new people. The broader pool of workers should make the delegation of duties a bit more manageable. That's what I'm hoping anyway, but Warezell seems determined to send me on as many assignments as possible. One of these days, I'm going to put a clogging charm on my ears and savor the undoubtedly blissful absence of human speech, in any language.

Regarding our ongoing discussion of Matt Adler, I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm somewhat jealous of him. He's getting to be around you frequently, whereas I'm thousands of miles away from you the vast majority of the time. That's all. But to be honest, I have no interest in "hanging out" with him, and I'm sure he would rather not hang with the both of us together. He would doubtless end up feeling ignored and/or revolted because I can hardly keep my eyes and hands off you, can I?

Anyway, I'm leaving for Rome tonight for the European Quidditch Conference, so expect my owls to take a bit longer to reach you. I'll be there for three days and afterwards be back in London. I have a feeling Warezell might be planning to send me somewhere else but if it conflicts with my being with you next week, it goes without saying that I'll be declining the assignment.

Only a week to go now and I'll be able to hold you in my arms and snog you senseless. I can't wait.

Love,
Brandon

*********
TBC
*********

16. XVI

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers of the last chapter. And sorry for the longer wait for this installment. This is the last of the beta-ed chapters so the wait might be longer next time as well. To be honest, I can't wait for this thing to be over so I can jump back into the true canon of the Harry Potter series. Thanks for reading along, and muchas gracias to Liss for beta services.

XVI

There is a curious phenomenon of climate in which places that get extremely cold winters conversely get extremely hot summers. This requires the people who live in those places to develop, if not a love, then a tolerance for both extremes. Indeed, after a bitterly cold winter, most people relish the heat of summer and by the time winter comes back around, it is welcomed with open arms after the summer's scorching.

Or at least, that's what the person across from Emerson had been saying when her mind began to wander. It was the first Sunday afternoon in July and she was seated on the patio of one of the many coffee shops in Harvard Square, under a wide, green and white striped umbrella, sipping a slushy and delicious coffee concoction. From all around came the happy, carefree chatter of liberated people, freed from the demands of their studies for another weekend.

Em was no different. It had been a grueling week of work and study for her, which had also been made progressively uncomfortable by someone she considered a friend. Even thinking about him made her uneasy now, but she hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even the person in question.

What is it about him that bothers me, though? she mused, staring unseeingly at the people strolling up and down the busy plaza. I'm from a very physically expressive family. Giving and receiving hugs and other such gestures is the norm for me. So why is this-

"Earth to Em!"

Her head snapping up, Emerson looked across the small round table. "Uh? I'm sorry, what was that you were saying, Ben?"

"Never mind," her brother replied, looking at her curiously. "Where were you just now?"

She waved her hand vaguely and smiled at him. "Sorry. I was just thinking about something. But go on. People get used to weather extremes and-"

Ben laughed. "Em, I left off that subject a good few minutes ago."

"Oh." She pinked up a little, silently cursing her inattentiveness. She was really happy to have her brother visiting, even though it was his second visit in as many weeks. He, as well as her parents, Budget and Vina, had come over the weekend before for her birthday celebration. Davis, Lyna, Marc and Marissa Weasley, and the Shriver brothers, Will and Arnie, had all come over, too. Her grandparents had flown over for the weekend as well, their first visit to her at Harvard and their first in a long time to the New England area.

And Brandon.

Thinking about him and the fun they'd all had, together with the new friends she'd made at school and work, had Emerson sighing happily. It had been a fantastic weekend and no price could be put on how wonderful it had been to be with her whole family again. She and Lyna, for one, had spent hours excitedly catching up. Em had been unable to resist touching Lyna's growing belly again and again, drawn to the bulge like a magnet in spite of the pangs of guilt and grief that shot through her every time, as if the infant within were repelling her touch out of solidarity with its departed contemporary. It had been so hard to not blurt everything out to her best friend. But always when it became too much, Brandon had been there, his dark eyes full of understanding and his arms ready to hold her tight.

Em sighed again and heard her brother snort. Looking up, she arched an eyebrow quizzically. "What?"

"You're thinking about Wood, aren't you? I can tell from that lovesick expression."

Aware of her face heating up, she nevertheless gazed at him defiantly. "So what if I am?"

Ben grinned. "Nothing. It's just a bit pathetic, is all. And he's the same way when it comes to you."

"It's not pathetic, Ben," she replied archly. "There's nothing pathetic about being in love. And I can't wait for when you're like this over some woman. Rest assured, I will not be merciful."

He laughed and Em marveled for the millionth time at how much he looked like their Dad. The only feature of their father's that Ben hadn't inherited were Dad's emerald eyes (Ben's were hazel), but everything else, right down to the sound of his laughter, were Harry Potter's. Yet, at the same time, Ben's personality was so distinctive that he had never had to fear being a mere facsimile. He was brilliant; genius, really. Already as a freshman at Oxford, Ben was becoming known to the entire school as someone to keep an eye on and his professors apparently couldn't get enough of him.

"You've come a long way from snogging pretty boys in Jamaica, though, that's for sure," her brother was saying. "I'm happy for you. Brandon's a good man."

Em smiled at him. "Yes, he is." Sighing, she took a sip of her drink before looking up again. "But enough about me. Tell me about you. Like, what's up with you and Kady?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?" she asked, frowning a little. "You two seem pretty cozy to me."

"We're just friends."

"Friends with benefits, you mean, right?"

Her brother looked at her sharply. "Where did you hear that?"

Em leaned back in her seat and shrugged. "Kady told me. She wanted to know if it would be all right with me. I told her you're both adults and it's really none of my business." She paused, watching him. "Which I'm sure is what's going through your mind right now."

Ben smirked and she laughed. "It's nothing serious," he said after a while. "I don't have time for a girlfriend, and there really isn't anyone I'm that interested in at the moment."

"Not even Kady?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Well, we talked about it and we're both on the same page about what we're doing here. She knows where I stand and I know where she does."

"Okay," Em answered. "It's just a little hard to wrap my mind around. The arrangement seems a bit strange to me, like how can you two be so casual about it."

He looked both hurt and offended. "So you think I'm a male slut, is that it?"

"What, no!" she burst out, looking shocked. "Ben, of course I don't think that! It concerns me, that's all, because-"

"I was joking, Em, calm down," her brother interrupted, looking amused. Then he sobered. "But what're you concerned about?"

Emerson sighed, closing her eyes for a second. Ever since the horrible ordeal that she and Brandon had gone through, she was very aware of becoming much more cautious and responsible with her health, reproductive and otherwise. The knowledge that her brother was out there having casual sex bothered her and she would never forgive herself if she didn't at least let him know her views on it.

"I'm just worried about you and what you're doing. Look, I know you're eighteen and hormonal and all that, but there are so many things that could go wrong."

"Well, not everybody can be so lucky as to have found the love of their life at such a young age, you know."

She glared at him, feeling a sudden lump of emotion rising in her throat. "I know that! But, Ben, things happen! Things you think could never happen to you, but they can and they do and I-"

"Hey," he said gently, reaching over to touch her hand. "I understand, Sis. Really, I do. Okay? I'll be careful, I promise."

Em sniffled and wiped shakily at her eyes. "Okay."

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before Ben put down his drink and spoke hesitantly. "Did- did something happen to you?"

Tears filled Em's eyes again, blurring her vision as she stared at her hands. Should she tell him? So far, Brandon and Kady were the only people who knew about the miscarriage. Oh, and Dr. Frasier. With Brandon's encouragement, Em had rang up her old psychologist a few weeks ago, realizing that she needed more help getting through the guilt. There was no doubt that talking about it to the kind and professional listener had been very conducive so far. Already, the burden had lessened somewhat, but she wasn't quite over it. She doubted that she would ever be truly over it.

But should she tell her brother? They had a great relationship and she knew that he respected and looked up to her. Did she want to tarnish his opinion of her, disappoint him? But wouldn't it be better to let him have the truth, so that he could learn from her mistakes? She owed him that much, didn't she?

Taking a deep breath, she looked up. "Yes, something happened to me. Only Brandon and Kady know about this, and you have to promise me that you won't utter a word of it to anyone. Not Mum and Dad, and especially not Budget or Vina. Promise me."

"I promise," Ben said gravely.

"Okay," Em said quietly, exhaling another deep breath. "A few months ago, I became pregnant."

A long silence greeted her admission and were not the situation so grave, Em would have been amused by the gobsmacked expression on her brother's face.

"What?" he blurted, gaping at her. He stared for another minute, then his eyes darted downwards and his expression became even more horrified. "You- you- wait, a few months ago? But you're not- you didn't-"

"Of course I didn't, Ben!" she snapped, knowing exactly what he was struggling so hard to say, and feeling a stab of hurt that he would even think her capable of such thing. "I would never do that! But the pregnancy was ectopic."

He sat back, looking suddenly pale. "Oh."

And she found that tears were coursing silently down her cheeks, so that all her dabbing was useless against the flow. "I was so scared, Ben. And I felt like I couldn't tell anyone, not Mum or Dad, not any of you. There was only Brandon and he was so wonderful, but..." Her voice trailed off into nothing and she shook her head slowly, the painful memories swirling inside her head. After a few minutes, she managed to compose herself and looked up again. "It was just inarguably the worst thing I have ever gone through, and add to that, it really strained my relationship with Brandon."

Her brother was silent, just staring at her with wide eyes. "But you're okay now? I mean, your health?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"And you and Brandon..."

Em gave a small smile. "Oh, we're great now. We're happy. But definitely for a while there, I worried that we would break up. If that had happened, the biggest chunk of the blame would've been mine, because I was just horrible to him. But he must really like me, cause he hung in there and luckily for me, I got the necessary kick in the pants before it was too late." She sighed heavily. "But my point is, Ben, you never know. Anything could happen, so just be really careful. Okay?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, his hazel eyes troubled behind his glasses. He hesitated a bit before continuing. "I-I think I understand why you don't want Budget or Vina to know about this, but why do you feel like you can't tell Mum or Dad? This is big stuff. They would want to know."

Em fiddled with her straw, biting her bottom lip nervously. "I know. But I can't tell them. Not yet. Maybe one day I will, but not for a while. I'm just- they'd be so disappointed in me, for my irresponsibility, you know, and... I just can't bear the thought of it right now." She gazed at him anxiously. "So you'll keep it to yourself, right?"

"Of course. I promised, didn't I?" They were quiet for a long moment before he spoke again, sounding determinedly chipper. "Hey, give me a word."

She smiled at him, feeling her somber mood rapidly dissipating, which she knew had been his intention. It was a game of sorts that Ben played with family and friends, wherein he asked for a word and then, using whatever word he was given, he would made up something from scratch. Sometimes it would be a limerick, sometimes a haiku, a short poem, a long one. A couple times he'd even written short stories based on the requested words. It was the gift he'd been given, the gift of the written word and the knowledge of how to use it to the utmost effect. And the best part was how quickly he could produce funny, clever or thought-provoking creations, and always with remarkable quality.

"Okay, let's see," Em said, biting her bottom lip as she looked around for inspiration. The conversations were flowing unceasingly all around, punctuated by the hum of motor scooters across the plaza and various strains of music from assorted shops. There was a slight wind but not enough to provide any real relief from the sun, which beamed down on the whole scene, high above and yet thoroughly interspersed with everything.

Smiling, she looked back at her brother. "Sun."

"Okay," Ben said, grinning. He pulled out a small notebook and pen that he always carried with him ("For when I need a fix", he'd once explained) and began to stare blankly at some spot to her left.

Knowing he was in his thinking place, Em leaned back in her chair and let her mind wander back to the subject that had been bothering her earlier. When she had first met Matt Adler, he had seemed so unnerved by her that he'd almost been a stammering wreck. As the weeks went by, however, he had quickly calmed down and became someone she decided that she genuinely liked and appreciated. But then Kady had cautioned her about Matt, about the fact that he seemed to have developed a crush on her, and to Em's dismay, her roommate had been right. She had gently but firmly laid the facts bare to him, that she was in a loving and exclusive relationship, and Matt had claimed to understand.

Now, though, Em wondered if he really did. She had always had a slight worry in the back of her head which made her forever conscious of her actions around him. From what he had told her, he'd never had very much success with women and the last thing she wanted was to unintentionally give him the wrong idea, and hence add to his bad experiences with her gender. But his behavior of late was certainly cause for concern, she realized.

Sighing, Emerson sipped at her drink again. She knew she was a very expressive person, who enjoyed giving and receiving hugs and other affectionate behavior. She was easygoing and laid-back, not easily offended at all. But the way Matt hugged her, the way he touched her, made her uncomfortable. It seemed he always tried to find some excuse to be in contact with her, to grab her hand, touch her hair. He sat much too close to her, and had rested his head on her shoulder more than once.

But how could she make the distinction? All her friends, male and female, more or less did the same things! How could she single Matt out and tell him that he couldn't act with her the way all her other friends did? Every time she'd subtly shied away or removed her hand from his, he'd acted like nothing had happened and within minutes was right back where he'd been before. It was like he couldn't get a clue, or if he got it, had chosen to ignore it. Em honestly didn't know how long she could try to spare his feelings if he continued to disregard her wishes the way he was doing.

Perhaps she should just lay out her concerns to him, just get it out in the open. They had another study session scheduled for the next day. Maybe she should broach the subject then. She needed to take care of this before it went too far. The last thing she wanted was to jeopardize her relationship with Brandon over this, since her boyfriend had already expressed displeasure at how "touchy-feely" Matt was with her. Even though she had defended Matt out of loyalty, Em knew that Brandon was right because it made her uneasy, too.

"Okay," Ben said suddenly, jolting Em from her unpleasant thoughts. "Here you go."

He handed her the notebook that he'd been scribbling away in, though she'd been too caught up in her own thoughts to notice his progress. Pulling it closer, she read:

Sit on your doorstep
Or in any place
Sit in the sun and lift
your face
Close your eyes and sun-dream
Soon the warm, warm sun will fill you up
and spill over

Em sighed blissfully. "That's beautiful, Ben. You're gonna be a bestselling author, no problem at all."

"Glad you think so," he replied, grinning. "Anyway, didn't you say you wanted to talk to me about Brandon's birthday thing?"

"Oh, yeah!" Em answered. "Sorry, I've had a few things on my mind. But about the birthday, I'm planning a surprise for him. He thinks he and I will just be having a quiet dinner together. Which we will, but first I wanted to have a huge get-together for him. It's his twenty-fifth birthday, after all."

She went on to explain the surprise, which consisted of assorted Quidditch friends of Brandon's, most of whom only knew each other as rivals. They were from all over the world, from countries that Brandon had gone to on assignments for his job. It had been quite a task to get in touch with all those people without it getting back to Brandon, but she'd managed to get the guest list almost finalized.

"Brandon's birthday is the fifteenth of July," she continued breathlessly. "Which is exactly two weeks from now. Dad and Uncle Oliver have agreed to let us use Puddlemere's Magnum Pitch for-"

"You're kidding!" Ben interrupted, his eyes round.

Em grinned, trying not to look too smug. "No. It's incredible, isn't it? Magnum is the best Quidditch stadium in the entire league and it's always a big deal when a game gets scheduled to be played there. They weren't too keen on the idea at first, but then I managed to convince them by pointing out that all these international Quidditch stars will be at the party, and don't they want to show off Magnum a bit?"

"Good thinking," her brother said, chuckling. "Okay. It sounds like it'll be awesome. So what do you need me to do?"

"Well, Mum and Aunt Katie are taking care of catering arrangements and that kind of stuff, while Dad and Uncle Oliver are organizing the mother of all pickup matches using the all-star guest list. But I wanted to also do something a bit more personal. See, I was thinking we could make a team with all family and friends, and Brandon could pick which of his professional buddies he'd like us to play against."

Ben was grinning unabashedly by now, obviously feeling her excitement. "I bet it's been a fantasy of his, to play against some of them."

"Exactly," she said. "He was one of the best Keepers Hogwarts had ever had, and everybody says he could've played professionally if he'd wanted to. Well, if only for one day, he'll get to do that against some of the best in the world. I didn't get a chance to do it when they were here last weekend, so I need you to spread the word to our closest friends and cousins. Especially Marc and Marissa. But at the same time, you have to be really careful that it doesn't get back to Brandon, and that's why I haven't just written to our friends about it. I don't want it to leak. This has to be a surprise."

"Got it," Ben said, looking gleeful. "I'll go out of my way to keep him from getting suspicious, too." He chuckled to himself suddenly. "Man, can you imagine Wood's face when he sees all these foreigners! A quiet dinner for the two of you..."

Em laughed. "Imagine what a racket they'll make, so many different languages and accents. Wouldn't it be funny if he messed up a couple tongues?"

"Wie merveilleux per vederla!" Ben exclaimed. "How wonderful to see you. Except that translation mixes up a German word with a French one and two Italian ones."

They laughed merrily and the rest of the time was spent polishing up the plans for the surprise and general catching up on each other's lives and that of their family. Em focused all her attention on her brother for the remainder of his visit so that it was only after she and Kady had returned from accompanying him to the IMA terminal the next day that her worries about Matt Adler resurfaced.

He would be coming over that night to work on a Microbiology assignment and after an hour or two of agonizing, Em decided that she would simply grit her teeth and settle the matter once and for all, while endeavoring to be as non-confrontational as possible.

That decided, she gathered her books and headed to the living room, just as a knock sounded on the front door. She was almost tempted to ignore it, but Kady was in her room working on a business presentation for one of her classes and the knocking might disturb her after a while. So, exhaling a deep breath, Em put her books down and went to admit him.

"Hey, Emerson!" he said enthusiastically when she opened the door. Before she could react, he'd pulled her into a hug. "How's it going?"

"Fine," she said, pulling away and managing a small smile. "How're you?"

"I'm doing much better, now that I'm here."

Em refrained from asking why, because the way he was grinning at her was answer enough. And once again, she felt a trickle of unease run down her spine.

He must have picked up on it because he quickly added, "Just kidding!"

But she knew he wasn't, not really. As she sat on the floor across from him, with the coffee table between them and their books spread out on it, Em felt a sudden rush of distress. Why was he acting like that, like there was something going on between them? How many times had he sat and listened to her and Krishna gushing about their respective boyfriends? How many times had he seen her hand in hand with Brandon around the college town? Couldn't he tell how happy she was? Couldn't he see how in love she and Brandon were? Why was he setting himself up for such a fall? What did he want from her?

You know what he wants, a voice said in her head. But it's his problem. You've never given him any reason to think he has a chance. Never.

But what if she had? How could she be sure that-

"Hey, you all right?"

Fighting to rearrange her face, Em looked up. "Yeah. Just a bit distracted."

"By what or whom?" he asked, and something about his tone irritated her. It was almost as if he expected her to say that she'd been distracted by him. Which, in fact, she had been, but surely not in the capacity he hoped she was.

"By Brandon," she lied brutally, and felt nary a twinge of remorse at the way his face fell. Served him damn right.

"Oh," Matt said, and turned his attention back to the assignment. For the next quarter of an hour, they worked steadily, speaking only about the task at hand, before he changed the direction of the conversation again. "Say, what're you doing next weekend?"

Em paused in her scribbling. "Er, I dunno. I think I might have to work."

"Actually, you're off," he supplied. At her startled look, he shrugged. "I was double-checking my schedule at Morningside and since yours is tacked directly below mine, I couldn't help but notice."

"Oh, okay. Well, I don't have anything planned, then. Why?"

His face lit up again in one of his wide grins, making him look incredibly boyish with his short, blond hair. "The Red Sox are playing the St. Louis Cardinals next weekend and my uncle at Grafton's gave me tickets. You wanna come with me?"

Em frowned. "Is that like baseball?"

"Of course it's baseball!" he exclaimed, looking incredulous for a moment before slapping his forehead. "Oh, that's right. Being British, your sport is football, aka soccer, right?"

Actually, no. My sport is the one played on broomsticks with balls that try to give you concussions. She'd never gotten around to telling him that she was a witch, and she didn't think she ever would. "Right."

"Well, I can explain all the basics of the game. It's pretty exciting to watch, really. Most of it is the energy of the crowd; you can't help but be caught up in the fervor and baseball fans, especially Red Sox fans, are extremely devoted."

His eyes were shining with excitement and in spite of herself, Em couldn't help but smile. It was always nice to witness others deriving enjoyment from their passions.

"So, what do you say? You want to come with me?"

Em's smile faded as reality returned to focus and she shifted uncomfortably. "Who else is going with you?"

"No one," he said. "I only have two tickets so it'd be just the two of us."

She had to try really hard not to sigh in exasperation. How many times had she declined invitations of his to dinner, concerts, movies, parties where it would've been "just the two of us"? If it were a bunch of people going with him as a group, she would happily accept. But not if it was just the two of them because what kind of message would that send, especially to his already stubbornly misguided mind?

Striving to keep her voice calm and even, Emerson looked at him. "Matt, we've been over this. I'm not going to something with you as just the two of us. If it's a group of you and your friends, then fine. But not just the two of us."

He didn't answer, only leaned over to turn a page in his text book so that for a second, she wondered if he'd heard her. But then he shrugged. "Fine."

They worked in tense silence for a few more minutes and Em fought with herself not to feel guilty. It wasn't her fault that he kept pushing, was it? She refused to blame herself for his disappointment; he'd brought it on himself! In fact, now would be a good time to-

"It's because of that guy, isn't it?" he said suddenly, without looking up.

Em frowned. "What guy?" He remained silent and Em peevishly repeated, "What guy?"

"Look, I'm not trying to piss you off," he said quickly. "It's just, if you were my girlfriend, no way would I have let you move halfway across the world by yourself. I'd have dropped everything to go with you."

"Well, luckily for you, you don't have that dilemma, cause I'm not your girlfriend, am I?"

"Only cause you're with that guy."

Emerson was beginning to get really annoyed. "That guy has a name - Brandon. And are you saying that the only reason you and I aren't together is because of him? Because that sounds a bit creepy to me."

"I'm not trying to freak you out. I'm just saying-" He stopped and sighed.

"What?"

He gazed at her earnestly. "I like you. You are a rare woman, Emerson. You're so beautiful and when I met you that first time, I thought uh-oh. Because in my experience, beautiful women don't give me the time of day. But you turned out to be different. You're as nice and as genuine as you are beautiful. And I won't deny that that makes you very attractive, even more so that if it were just the beauty you had going for you."

Emerson gaped at him, feeling slightly stunned. She certainly hadn't been expecting a speech like that. "Er, well, thank you."

"I'm just trying to see where that gu-, I'm sorry, Brandon, is coming from," he continued in a rush, as if afraid of losing his nerve. "Having a girl like you and just letting you go like that."

"He let me go because he supports me, because he respects my need to do this."

Matt shook his head stubbornly. "Sure, that's fine. But couldn't he support you enough to move here with you? That's what I'd have done if-"

Her surprise rapidly vanishing, Em gave him a cold look. It made her angry to be explaining herself and Brandon to him. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? He didn't know shit about her boyfriend or their relationship. "The fact of the matter is I needed to do this and Brandon understood that. He respected that. And that's all I'm ever going to be saying on the subject so can we get back to the assignment, please?"

"Okay."

They managed to complete their work without any more distractions and Em was happy to see him go. She fumed for a long time, debating whether or not to write to Brandon and tell him about what had happened. But she quickly decided against it, realizing that it wouldn't accomplish anything other than making him dislike Matt even more.

Which he wouldn't exactly be remiss in doing, a voice added irritably in her head. And you didn't set Matt straight like you'd decided to. You didn't tell him that he'd been invading your space. You chickened out.

"Shut up," Em grumbled aloud and started when Axel suddenly jumped out of her lap. The kitten had been purring under her restless hands but now he curled up on the edge of the bed and glared at her. She sighed. "I didn't mean you, Axel."

Axel turned his head away and ignored her, but she knew he would forget all about it soon enough. She only wished she could forget her own troubles as easily. But human beings aren't afforded that luxury, and as the days went by, Em had to force herself not to think about the situation with Matt Adler. He was awkward and sulky around her but she was still angry with him herself, so any thoughts about making peace were promptly squashed. Instead, she threw herself into school and work, as well as planning Brandon's birthday surprise, and finally July fifteen arrived.

It was a hot, muggy Saturday and Em was happy to be leaving Boston for the weekend. Brandon's party would begin at three o'clock in the afternoon and she was supposed to keep him distracted until then. Which wouldn't exactly be an unwelcome burden because Em was so looking forward to seeing him, it wasn't even funny.

"I really wish I could go with you," Kady sighed wistfully as the two of them waited for Em's Portkey to be called. "It sounds like it'll be so awesome!"

Em hugged her. "Yeah. But I know you'll be brilliant with your presentation. Are you all done with the preparations?"

"Pretty much. Just needs a little polishing here and there."

"That's good. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you. Hey, thanks for keeping Axel for me."

Kady smiled. "No problem. I like that cat; he's a sweetheart. If a bit greedy."

Em snorted. "A bit?"

They both laughed. The minutes sped by as they chatted companionably and Em began to get more and more excited. She couldn't wait to see him, to hold him in her arms again, to kiss him! At last, the ten-thirty Portkey to London was announced and she hugged her roommate and hurried to the departure booth. Upon emerging from the London equivalent, Em crossed the bustling terminal, her eyes scanning the room for the love of her life.

"Emerson! Over here!"

She spun around and a wave of joy washed over her when her eyes landed on him. He was smiling broadly as he strode towards her, and with a laugh, she ran to his open arms. They clung to each other tightly and her heart pounded with a fierce happiness. His scent filled her nostrils, making her light-headed, but it was when his lips found hers that her senses reeled. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back eagerly, and the noise of the terminal all around dimmed to a dull roar. They broke apart gasping, hands cupping each other's face, sharing little lingering kisses before hugging again.

"Brandon," she murmured happily. He squeezed her tighter before slowly pulling away. Gazing up into his eyes, Emerson smiled. "Happy birthday."

He smiled back. "It is now."

You ain't seen nothing yet. With a giggle, she hugged him spontaneously, then, arms around each other, they departed the terminal. Trying to sound casual, she looked up at him. "So, what do you want to do today?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter, really. As long as you're there. Our dinner reservation's for eight-thirty tonight, so we have a good couple of hours to burn." He glanced down at her. "Didn't you want to go to Ballynore for a bit?"

"Yeah," she answered. She did want to do that, both to see her family and to get any updates regarding the surprise. Em felt rather guilty that her and Brandon's family and friends had done the bulk of the work, but there was only so much she could do herself from a continent away. They'd all shushed her repeated apologies, saying they were happy to be doing this.

It was only a quarter to eleven, though, and Em ached to spend some time alone with him first. With everything planned for the rest of the day, they likely wouldn't get another chance until that night. "Well, if you're not particular, we could just go to your flat."

There was no doubt in her mind that he'd caught the tone of her voice because he stopped short on the sidewalk and looked down at her. His dark eyes were darkening even more and she smiled. Within minutes, they were in his Denham apartment, west of London, laughing against each other's lips as they stumbled to his bedroom. Em pushed him back on the bed and straddled him, all her nerves already tingling with anticipation. It'd been almost a month since they'd been together and her blood boiled with want of him.

He seemed willing to let her take control, and she gleefully grabbed hold of the reins, divesting them both of their clothing. To further her authority, she placed restraining charms on his outstretched arms and legs, leaving him entirely at her mercy. Her mouth and hands traveled all over his body, revisiting all the sites that she knew drove him wild. She used her tongue, her breasts, even her long hair to stimulate him, all over, until he was begging and her own body was echoing the pleas. Only then did she sink down onto him, moaning as he filled her, before proceeding to ride him so energetically that his toes curled and he shouted her name helplessly to the ceiling, breaking the restraining charms in his throes. Her own powerful release quickly followed and they clung together for a long time before slumping breathlessly against each other.

Brandon laid his head weakly on her chest and Emerson stroked his damp hair slowly, pausing every now and then to drop a kiss on his forehead. He sighed deeply and she smiled.

"There's nothing better," he murmured lazily.

"Better than what?"

He raised his head to look at her. "There's nothing better than being shagged senseless by the woman you love."

"The woman who loves you, Birthday Boy," she amended, kissing him softly on the lips.

He chuckled. "That, too."

They both sighed, and neither of them spoke for a long time, content to simply revel in the joy of each other's presence. Finally, just after noon, they cleaned up and Apparated over to Ballynore.

"Emerson!" Budget exclaimed when she entered the kitchen, hurrying over to hug her. "Did you just get here?"

Em could see Brandon trying not to smirk. "Pretty much. What're you doing?"

"Making a sandwich. You want one?" he asked. Not waiting for an answer, he continued, "I'm the only one here at the moment, so I hope you weren't looking for anyone. They all had errands and stuff to take care of."

"That's okay," she answered, trying to sound nonchalant. "And yeah, I'd like a sandwich. You want one, Odie?"

He nodded and walked over to the fridge. "Yeah."

As Em pulled the loaf of bread towards her, Budget leaned over and pressed something into her other hand. Looking down, she saw that it was a shiny Galleon. Puzzled, she looked up at him. "Wha-"

Her brother shook his head quickly then nodded towards Brandon, who was straightening up from peering inside the fridge.

Getting the hint, Em nodded and pocketed the Galleon. Clearly, this had something to do with the surprise. The three of them set about making chicken salad sandwiches, with potato crisps on the side and a nice slice of homemade cherry pie each, washed down with ice-cold pumpkin juice. They ate out on the back porch and Luke kept them in stitches with a long story about how he and Ben had happened upon a cow that had been taught to ride a scooter.

"It was the funniest thing I've ever seen, swear to God," Budget chortled.

Brandon laughed. "Was it real, though? Couldn't it have been some wizard trying to dupe poor clueless Muggles out of their money, for instance?"

"Well, Ben and I had that thought, too, and he managed to discreetly pointed his wand at the cow and cast a Finite Incantatem, but nothing happened. So we knew it was real. That farmer really had trained his cow to ride a scooter."

"That was certainly ingenious of the farmer," Em said, smiling. "I wonder how he did it and how long it took."

Budget snorted. "Nah, I wonder what made him bloody think of doing it in the first place!"

"While you wonder, I'm gonna go get a refill. You need anything?" Brandon asked, standing up with his empty goblet.

Em shook her head and he went inside the house, the glass door sliding shut behind him. As soon as he'd disappeared from sight, Em turned to her brother. "Okay, what's that Galleon for?"

"Oh, yeah. Mum put a Protean charm on it and when we're ready for you to take Brandon to the Magnum pitch, the coin will heat up," Luke explained in a hushed voice. "When he comes back with the juice, I'll 'mention' that Dad is over at the Puddlemere grounds."

Em grinned. "And later, I can say I want to go see Dad, and just take Brandon with me. Perfect. Is there anything else I need to bring, besides Brandon, of course?"

"No, they've got it covered," her brother said. His green eyes lit up suddenly. "But did you hear?"

"What?"

"That hot Brookridge girl is gonna be there!"

She arched her eyebrows. If she recalled correctly, her Dad and Uncle Oliver had tried to sign the Brookridge girl, who was supposed to be really talented, but another team had got to her first. "Really? How come?"

"Apparently, she's dating one of the blokes that you invited," Budget said, shrugging. "Not for long, though, once she sees me."

Emerson laughed and began to tease him good-naturedly about being out to steal another man's woman. Which she didn't doubt he could, she added conspiratorially, and he blushed fiercely. Luke really was a charming and good-looking kid, and she was almost tempted to tell him that Kady had once joked about going to jail for him. The statement had shocked Em when she'd first heard it, but just picturing how it would embarrass him if he knew was very amusing. She was still laughing when Brandon returned.

"What's so funny?" he asked, smiling as he looked from Em's chuckling face to Luke's crimson one and back.

"Nothing," Budget said quickly and stood up. "By the way, happy birthday."

"Thanks, man."

The two of them shook hands, then they gathered up the lunch things and returned to the kitchen. Rather than just leaving the dishes in the sink (like Luke had wanted to), Em bossed them into helping her wash up the Muggle way.

"See what you're setting yourself up for, mate?" Budget grumbled to Brandon. "I bet she bosses you around like this too, right?"

"Sometimes. But it's not so bad at all." Brandon caught her eye and Em felt herself reddening, knowing that he was talking about her earlier domination of him, which he had enjoyed explosively.

Luckily, Luke didn't seem to catch the silent byplay and between the three of them, the clean-up went quickly.

"Did Mum or Dad say when they'll be back here?" Em asked her brother as they headed back to the Apparation spot in the foyer.

Budget scratched the back of his curly head and frowned. "Mum didn't. She took Vina with her and I think they'll be all over the place. But Dad's just over at Puddlemere, if you want to see him."

"Okay. I guess I'll catch them later, then," she said, pulling him in for a hug.

"Ben's gonna come get me for the party," Luke whispered in her ear, and she squeezed him quickly in acknowledgment before they pulled apart.

Em smiled, watching as he and Brandon did that male handshake-hug thing. Checking her watch, she saw that they still had an hour and a half before the party. "So, where do you want to go now?" she asked, once her boyfriend turned back to her.

"How about Portobello Road?" he suggested. "We haven't harassed any vendors in a while."

She gasped in mock horror. "How appalling of us! We must remedy that at once! See you later, Budget."

The two of them Apparated to the sprawling antiques mall in Chelsea, strolling hand in hand among the other shoppers. They both had favorite vendors that they always made sure to visit. One of those was the Highland Store, which sold Scottish and country goods. It was crowded when they entered but they were quickly spotted by their favorite salesperson.

"Emerson!" the short, skinny young man exclaimed, hurrying over. "How lovely to see you, darling!"

Em smiled as she hugged him. "Hi, Rennie. How're you?"

"Just fine, just fine," he said, smiling back. His manner turned shy all of a sudden as he turned. "Hello, Brandon."

"Rennie," Brandon said, nodding at him.

Rennie caught Em's eye and pretended to swoon, and Emerson giggled. The salesman was flamboyantly gay and had never made any secret of his admiration for Brandon. Of course, Brandon had only ever had eyes for Em but he'd once grumbled that he found Rennie a bit annoying.

She loved to tease him about his male admirer, and deciding to have some fun with him now, she turned to Rennie. "Hey, today's Brandon's birthday."

Rennie gave an over-dramatic gasp and clasped his hands under his chin. "Fantastic! Oh, you must have a gift, on me! Come, come."

Emerson snorted at the, knowing Rennie, intentional double entendre. Her boyfriend shot her a look and she quickly adopted an innocent expression. "You heard the man."

Clearly, he wasn't fooled but he allowed himself to be led by the enthusiastic salesman to the section that dealt with kilts. Rennie jabbered a mile a minute, extolling the quality and range of selection that they had. He kept pulling out kilt outfit packages and holding them up to Brandon, exclaiming about how this or that tartan really brought out his lovely eyes, all that green and gold!

"Now, as you know, the proper way to wear these is sans underwear of any kind, and if you need help trying them on-"

"I won't be needing help, Rennie," Brandon interrupted, with a tight smile. "Because I'm not buying a kilt."

Rennie's smile fell for a second before jumping back into place. "Oh, silly man! Didn't you hear what I said before? It's a gift. For your birthday!"

"For your birthday," Em repeated, trying her darnedest not to burst out laughing at the irritated look that crossed Brandon's face.

"Well, thank you for the offer, Rennie," he was saying. "But I won't be needing a kilt."

The salesman sighed heavily and replaced the kilt package he'd been holding up. "Pooper."

"Yeah, pooper," Em echoed mournfully, but her eyes were twinkling with merriment.

In the end, Brandon politely accepted a pair of silver-plated, heathergems cuff links. He shook Rennie's hand and when Em hugged the salesman as they were leaving, Rennie whispered, "I'm never washing that hand again! You are so lucky, Em."

"I know," she whispered back, before laughing. "Thanks, Rennie."

As they left the store and wound their way through the browsing crowds, Em kept grinning up at him and finally, he looked down at her and scoffed. "There's no reason to be so self-satisfied, you know."

Emerson laughed and threw her arms around him. "Come on, it was funny! He wanted to help you get dressed, and-" She adopted a dead-on impression of Rennie's effeminate voice. "-the proper way to wear these is sans underwear of any kind."

Brandon shook his head for a second before laughing with her and they set out again, stopping here and there to greet people they knew. It was wonderful being with him again, and they were having so much fun that Em had almost forgotten about the surprise that all his family and friends had helped her plan for him. For that reason, it took her a few minutes to notice the circle of heat that was steadily warming in her pocket. But as soon as she did, she straightened up from peering at the jewelry displays in Roger's Gallery, feeling excitement bubbling within her.

"I have to go to the loo," she whispered, trying to think of a way for them to abruptly leave the market without him getting suspicious. They had made it this far without him seeming to know anything was up. The last thing she wanted was to tip him off now, at the eleventh hour.

After they'd both been to the bathroom, they met up again and he reached for her hand. Em sighed and laid her head against his chest. He kissed her neck softly. "Tired?"

"A bit," she answered. Glancing at her watch, she looked up at him. "I wonder if Dad's still at Puddlemere. I kind of want to talk to him."

"Want to go see?"

Em frowned. "I dunno. I mean, is there something else you wanted to do? I could just talk to him tonight or-"

"No, let's go over there," Brandon said. "Come on."

She let him lead her out of the mall, trying not to smile. Letting him "persuade" her had done the trick, she thought. They Apparated to Flaunden, northwest of London, where the Puddlemere offices and grounds were located. To the Muggle eye, the place appeared to be an oozy swamp, with rusty, abandoned cars and other garbage scattered here and there. But when wizard folk arrived at the location, what they saw was a soaring, modern-looking skyscraper, thousands of paneled glass windows glinting in the sun. It was set on sprawling and immaculately landscaped lawns and there was a wide, brick courtyard, with a large fountain in the center, leading up to the revolving glass doors. Upon entering the pleasantly warm building, one encountered a front desk that was always busy, regardless of the hour or day of the week.

Today was no exception, as the receptionists at the desk plucked hovering messages from the air and sent others off, all the while conversing feverishly into magically controlled headsets. Puddlemere was the most successful team in the League and all the responsibilities that came with that made for a bustling empire, with multiple departments and their heads. Harry Potter and Oliver Wood were the owners and C.E.O.s, and all major decisions came down to their mutual agreement.

Like the use of the state-of-the-art Magnum pitch for Brandon's birthday bash, and Emerson's heart was pounding as she approached the desk. She had no doubt that everyone in the building knew about the event and the people down in the stadium might need some warning that they were on their way.

"Emerson!" exclaimed one of the receptionists, a tall, middle-aged woman with dark red hair. "How lovely to see you!"

Em hugged her. "Hi, Alice. How's it going?"

"Very well, thank you," Alice said, smiling. Her gaze turned to Brandon. "Hey, you! Happy birthday!" Alice had been with the company since Em and Brandon were children so it wasn't at all suspicious that she knew that it was his birthday.

He grinned. "Thanks, Alice." Leaning over, he pecked her on the cheek.

Alice beamed at him before turning glowing eyes onto Em. "He's quite the charmer, isn't he?"

"Yeah," she agreed, giggling. "Anyway, we're here to see my Dad. We'll just go on up to his office."

"Oh, he's actually down on the Magnum Pitch, seeing to something or other," the receptionist said lightly. "You remember how to get there?"

Em affected an offended look. "But, of course!"

Alice laughed and waved them in the direction of the sleek, silver lifts. The doors closed and Em had no doubt that the woman was hurrying over to inform the crowd gathered on the pitch that Brandon was on his way. The lift stopped and Em had to force herself not to grab him by the hand and drag him along in her excitement. The stroll seemed to take forever, but at last, they were in front of the huge silver doors, with the Puddlemere logo proudly emblazoned across them. Brandon pulled the door open and she stepped inside, her eyes quickly adjusting to the dimness of the interior.

"That's weird," he said, sounding puzzled.

Em looked up at him. "What is?"

He frowned down at her. "Didn't Alice say your father's here taking care of something? So why is it so dark in here?"

As if his words had been the signal they'd been waiting for, the lights suddenly came on in a dazzling brilliance and at least a hundred voices rang out in unison, "SURPRISE!"

The stunned look on Brandon's face at that moment was priceless and Emerson was so happy that she thought her heart would burst. The crowd began to clap and he gaped out at them, his mouth open and his eyes wide. After a few seconds, he turned to look at her in disbelief.

"Wha-"

She laughed. "That's why. Happy birthday, Brandon."

"You did this?" he asked incredulously.

"No, they did."

And what an excellent job they'd done, too! The Magnum Pitch was magnificent enough by itself, with sleek golden walls, rich burgundy carpeting and a ceiling charmed by the late great Professor Filius Flitwick himself. The stadium seated a hundred and fifty thousand and was designed so that the field, a smooth, untarnished green, was perfectly visible from any level or angle. On either side of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high. All around waved flags representing, alternately, Puddlemere United and the British Quidditch League. At the very top of the stadium were flags of every single team in the league, though the Puddlemere and Quidditch League ones were more prominently displayed.

The top box, where the crowd was gathered, had had its seats rearranged so that there was a large circle in the center of the huge space. It had been decorated with streamers and balloons, while colorful confetti wafted down from the ceiling, contributing to the party atmosphere. The confetti was charmed to only land on clothes and hair, magically bypassing the glasses of assorted drinks that most everybody held. A large section on the right had been laid out in a lavish buffet, with chefs in pure white regalia ready and waiting to serve. Uniformed house-elves popped up here and there, refilling glasses as needed. Music played gently in the background and the temperature of the room was completely pleasant. All around were smiling faces, beaming up at Emerson and Brandon as they stood on the landing.

"You did this?" Brandon repeated, gazing down at her in amazement.

Em shook her head. "No, I didn't. They did."

He stared at her and she felt her heart rate speeding up at the look of adoration in his eyes. "But it was your idea, wasn't it?"

"I-I had tons of help, so it-" she began, but her words were cut off when he kissed her, in front of the delighted crowd, who began to make even more noise. Emerson pulled away, blushing, and he hugged her to him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled into his chest and squeezed him tighter. After a few seconds, they pulled apart and she gestured at the crowd. "You're welcome. Now, go on. Your guests are waiting."

He grinned and turned to the happy faces. "What a surprise this is!" he shouted giddily.

Still smiling, Em watched him bound down the steps. He kissed his mother on the cheek, repeated the action with Emerson's mother and commenced hugging and shaking hands all around. For a long time, she just stood there on the landing, watching the scene before her, as the crowd began to mingle, Brandon stopping every other second to exclaim and hug or shake the hand of some new person. From what she could see, he was astonished by most of the people there, his Quidditch friends from all over the world, and Em was very pleased with herself for having thought of it. His happiness made her feel like she was floating on air.

"Are you just going to stand there ogling Brandon all night?" a slightly peeved voice said from her right.

Em's head whipped around and her face broke into wide smile. "Lyna!"

She hurried down the steps and into her best friend's arms, and the two women hugged each other before pulling apart. "Oh, how are you?"

"I'm all right," Lyna said, her honey eyes radiant and her skin aglow.

She was beautiful. Actually, it wasn't just Lyna's skin that seemed to be glowing; it was her whole being, and Em knew it was from sheer happiness. Lyna was about six months pregnant now, and from what her friend was saying, everything was going very well.

"I feel wonderful and I'm just..." her voice trailed off as she shook her head, her eyes filling up. "I'm just so happy."

Em hugged her again, feeling tears prickling at her own eyes. It was all so wonderful and she was truly ecstatic for Lyna and Davis. Just as she started to pull away, a jolt from her friend's swollen belly made Em freeze.

Lyna laughed. "Yeah, he keeps doing that. Here." She put Em's hand on her belly and after a few moments, the baby moved again. "It's amazing, isn't it? Of course I admit it's not quite so fabulous when I'm trying to sleep and the kid won't stay still."

Rendered speechless for a moment, Em just stared at her hand as it lay on her best friend's firm stomach. If her pregnancy hadn't been ectopic, if the miscarriage hadn't occurred, she would currently be feeling her baby move also. In fact, she would've been a month further into her pregnancy than Lyna was at the moment. Of course she knew that what had happened was for the best, but sometimes it still hurt so much.

Swallowing hard in an attempt to keep herself composed and under control, Em took a deep breath and looked up. "Did you say 'he'?"

"Oh my gosh, I didn't tell you!" Lyna cried, her eyes wide. "It's a boy. We found out a few weeks ago. I'm sorry I forgot to mention it."

Em smiled at her. "A boy."

"A boy," Lyna repeated, her whole face lighting up from within. "Davis was beside himself when the Healer said it. Of course I have no doubt that he would've reacted the exact same way if it'd been a girl."

"I'm sure," Em said, laughing. "So what're you gonna name him?"

Lyna looked furtive all of a sudden. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone. We've told our families that they'll have to wait till the birth to find out the name. But I can't sit on it anymore! I must share it with someone!"

"You know your secret is safe with me, Lyna," Em said, seriously. "This is my godson we're talking about, right?"

Lyna giggled. "Right. Okay, here goes." Leaning over, she whispered the name into Em's ear and pulled back.

"Oh, that's perfect!" Em exclaimed, hugging her again. "I think I know who the middle name is for, but why that first name?"

"Davis and I just really like it, that's all."

"It's a really nice name," Emerson said, throwing her arm around her friend as they headed towards where Davis was standing talking to his father-in-law, Remus, as well as Em's father. "Now, I want you to promise me something, Lyna."

Lyna stopped short and looked at her. "What?"

"Promise me that when you go into labor, you'll send for me. I don't care what time of day or night it is, I want to be there for you. Okay?"

Her friend blinked back tears. "Okay. I promise."

Em was feeling emotional, too, and the two of them took a moment to compose themselves before they continued on.

"Hi, Dad," Em said, beaming up at him.

Her father turned. "Emerson!"

He hugged her to him, and upon her greeting and receiving hugs from the other two men, a lively conversation was begun. Eventually, they all got plates of food and sat down to eat, where they were joined by Brandon's mother, Katie Bell Wood, and Em's mother. Watching her Mum and Dad sneak kisses warmed Emerson's heart and she couldn't suppress a sigh of contentment. The last time she'd seen her family had been about three weeks previous when they'd been in Boston for her birthday. Needless to say, it was beyond awesome seeing them all again, especially her extended family of assorted Weasleys.

After a while, she got up and went to mingle with the crowd that was loudly milling around Brandon. He put his arm around her and introduced her to a lot of people, before being dragged away for some reason or the other. Ben and Andy were having what appeared to be a ponderous discussion with a South Korean Quidditch player who didn't seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. Her brother caught her eye and waved; she waved back but didn't go over. She'd just spotted something else.

Or rather someone else. She hadn't seen Jack Crenshaw since just before she'd graduated Excalibur University. She'd been the one to break up with him and he hadn't wanted to let her go, insisting that he loved her and they could make it work. He'd been heartbroken by the break-up.

But he seems to have recovered very nicely, Em thought, watching him whisper in the ear of a tall, leggy blonde, who laughed breezily and tossed her head. They made an attractive couple, he with his male model looks and she with flawless Nordic features.

Should she go over and say hi? Em bit her lip indecisively but before she could make up her mind, Jack looked up and saw her. She watched the smile slip from his face before it returned tentatively. He looked so nervous all of a sudden that Em didn't have the heart to approach him. But the leggy blonde, becoming aware of the fact that his attention was no longer on her, took matters into her own hands.

"Who is this?" she asked abruptly in a heavy Russian accent, jerking her hand in Em's direction.

Jack glanced down at her before his gaze returned to Em. "Uh, this is Emerson. Hey, how're you doing?"

Em smiled at him. "I'm doing very well. How're you?"

"I'm all right," he said softly, staring. He jumped when the blonde elbowed him sharply. "Uh? Oh. Em, this is Svetlana. We, er, work together."

Ah, meaning you also shag each other. Got it. "Oh, nice to meet you," Em said, offering a hand.

Svetlana ignored her, choosing instead to glare at Jack. "This is the woman in the picture. Is she?"

Frowning, Em glanced at Jack, expecting him to be looking as bewildered as she felt. To her surprise, he was blushing. "What picture?" she asked.

"Picture in his wallet," Svetlana replied disdainfully. "He say it is friend. Are you his friend?"

Feeling startled, Em stared. "Um, I-"

"No, you are not his friend," the blonde supplied, not waiting for an answer. "You are his past girlfriend, yes? But you are not in love with him still, no? I saw you kissing the man that is the party."

Realizing what was going on, Em smiled. "You're right on all those counts. I used to be Jack's girlfriend. And yes, I was kissing Brandon Wood, the man the party's for. He's the love of my life." So you have nothing to fear from me, Svetlana. Certainly not where Jack is concerned.

Svetlana stared at Em for a moment, then nodded imperceptibly, letting Em know that she'd gotten the silent postscript. Em smiled at her and the blonde managed a slight smile back.

But now Jack was the one frowning. "So I was right, wasn't I? All those times that I thought there was something going on between you and Wood? And you kept denying it."

"That's because nothing was going on. Not at any of those times when you were acting all jealous and possessive," Em answered.

Jack's face hardened for a moment. "I suppose he gets to sleep with you, does he?"

Em gave him a cold look. She'd quite forgotten what an arsehole he could be. His pressuring her to have sex had been one of the main reasons why she'd broken up with him. "That, of course, is none of your business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to attend to. It was nice to meet you, Svetlana. And good luck with everything, Jack. Enjoy your evening."

And she made good her escape, making a beeline for her little sister, Davina, who was chattering happily with some Weasley cousins. She spent the next hour catching up on the lives of her friends and enormous extended family. Every now and then, she caught a glimpse of Brandon, and he was always either laughing or deep in conversation. Once everyone had been sufficiently fed and watered, Em's father and Uncle Ron got the pick-up match underway. The happy crowd headed down to the pitch, and the huge stadium rang with cheers of excitement as the multi-national teams put on a fierce but good-natured battle. In the end, Team Europe and Asia won over Team North and South America, but it'd been a close one and all in good fun.

"All right," Uncle Ron said loudly, gesturing for silence. He was the Head Coach for the Chudley Canons, and had been for more than fifteen years. As such, he had developed a very commanding presence, and the room quickly quieted. "Now that the diplomatic obligations are out of the way-" His words were cut off by a rowdy mixture of cheers and boos. "Pipe down, you lot! It's time now for some down home competition. Brandon, pick your team. And pick who out of these professional hot-shots you'd like to thump."

Brandon laughed. "What?"

"Pick me! Pick me!" Budget exclaimed, jumping up and down with his hand in the air.

Em noticed he kept glancing over at a pretty, dark-haired girl wearing a Wasps jacket. She smirked to herself. Unless she was mistaken, that had to be the Brookridge girl her brother kept raving about. She appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties, much too old for Luke, of course. But that didn't seem to be fazing him any.

"Pick me! Pick me!" shouted Uncle Fred and Aunt Angelina's Matthew, grinning like the demon he was.

His cousin, Olivia, daughter of George and his Muggle wife, Nina, elbowed him aside. "No, pick me!"

Brandon was looking bewildered, and one glance at Olivia was enough to see why. Olivia was decked out in what appeared to be full gypsy costume, a loose and long-sleeved red dress that flowed to her ankles. She was barefoot and wearing a red and black scarf wrapped around her head, tendrils of her vivid Weasley hair escaping about her neck. On her fingers were numerous gaudy rings, matching the countless necklaces around her neck and the earrings in her ears. Her outfit wasn't at all shocking to those who knew her, however, because Olivia had always been wildly eccentric.

No, Em knew that what was confusing Brandon was the fact that Olivia hadn't ever played Quidditch before. Not once. "So, why do you want me to pick you?" he asked.

Before Olivia could answer, however, Marc and Marissa, the twin terrors, joined in the "Pick me! Pick me!" chorus and Emerson snorted as she realized what was going on. They were all taking the mickey with Brandon and as the rest of the crowd caught on, almost everybody began to jump up and down with their hands in the air, imploring Brandon to pick them.

He laughed and for a moment, the whole stadium rang with the merry sound as everyone else joined in. Once they'd all calmed down, Brandon selected Marissa, Andy and Em to be his Chasers. His best friend, Eric Huckleberry and Marc were the Beaters, and Ben was Seeker.

"And I'll be Keeper," he said.

His father, Oliver, slapped him on the back, beaming with pride. "Of course you are, son! Hell, you could've played professionally if you wanted."

Em knew that was true. Everyone had been surprised when Brandon had opted instead for a Ministry job, despite all the teams that had been actively recruiting him at the time. He'd explained to her that although he would've loved to play professional Quidditch, it wouldn't have allowed for him to really maintain and pursue his other passion - languages. With his Ministry job, however, he got to deal with Quidditch and utilize his languages at the same time. It was the best deal for him and she knew he received much fulfillment from it.

Once the other team had been drafted, the match got underway. Em noticed that for the opposing team, Brandon had selected the best English speakers among his international friends, and she felt a rush of warmth for him. She knew it was because he wanted them to be able to seamlessly communicate with each other, even if they all had different native languages. His integrity made her heart swell with love, and she couldn't wait till she could grab a moment alone with him.

It had been quite a while since Emerson had been on a broom, but everything came rushing back as soon as she kicked off into the air. The wind whipping her ponytail around, the shouts of her teammates, the feel of the Quaffle in her hand, the yells from the crowd below; there was nothing quite like it. The game was swift and intense, but in the end, Brandon's team emerged as the winners. Em thought that was probably because although the other team was composed of professionals, they were from different countries and so had different styles; whereas the home team had played together quite a few times, even though it was just for fun, and so had some familiarity with each other's techniques.

"That was fun, though, wasn't it?" Marissa said, grinning at Em as they both made their way back to the top box.

Em smiled at her. "Yeah. There's nothing quite like a good Quidditch game."

The crowd was still murmuring with excitement over the spectacular finish that Ben had made by beating that South Korean player to the Snitch. The two Seekers were currently laughing together near the drinks table, no hard feelings evident. Emerson sipped from her bottle of butterbeer and listened to the boisterous conversations going on around her, but she wasn't really paying attention. Her eyes were scanning the room for a shaggy, brown head and after nearly five minutes, she saw him. He was standing below one of the glowing red Exit signs, talking to Marc and Eric and then, as she watched, he pulled open the door and slipped out.

Being as familiar with the stadium as she was, Em knew that that exit led to the bathrooms and excusing herself, she hurried through the noisy throng after him. Upon closing the door behind her, the silence of the empty hallway was so jarring that she stood still for a second, feeling slightly disoriented. But once she'd recovered, she hurried in the direction of the loos, and stopped in front of the only closed door.

Smiling to herself, she pressed her ear to the rich paneled mahogany. After a minute, she heard the toilet flush, then water running in the sink, and she moved to the right of the doorknob. When the door opened, she quickly stepped back in front of it.

Brandon had been in the act of throwing away his paper towel, his other hand on the knob, but he froze when he saw her.

She smiled. "Hi."

He stared at her for a second before reaching out suddenly and pulling her into the bathroom. His arms came around her and Emerson's heart pounded as she clung to him, her fingers buried in the soft hair at the back of his neck. For a long minute, neither of them spoke, just holding each other tightly.

Finally, he pulled away and gazed down at her adoringly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she whispered. "But really, everybody else did most everything cause there was only so much I could do from a continent away, see?"

"I know. But they all said it was your idea." He shook his head for a second and grinned. "You all got me. You got me. I wasn't expecting it at all."

She giggled. "Good."

"How did you get all these Quidditch people, though?"

She shrugged. "I wrote to them. Actually, I wrote to your boss first and told him of the idea. I made it sound like a diplomatic outreach kind of thing, and he agreed to contact the Quidditch ministers. And it went from there."

"That was a good idea," Brandon said, chuckling. "Diplomatic outreach. God knows old Warezell can never have too much of that, cause he's always pissing off foreign Quidditch officials."

His face turned serious as he gently touched her cheek before lowering his lips to hers and she melted against him with a sigh. His lips were so soft and warm and he tasted like butterbeer and champagne. The kiss deepened, their tongues mating sensually, and Em felt light-headed. They broke apart gasping, before his lips were on her neck, suckling so hard that she cried out from the mingled pleasure and pain.

Brandon pulled away, his breathing ragged. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's all right," she said breathlessly, before pulling his head back to where it had been.

He licked the crimson spot gently and she shivered, her hands clutching his arms tightly. Their lips met again and he pressed her against the wall of the bathroom, his hand cupping her breast under her top. Emerson moaned at his caress, her nipple hardening against his palm. She felt his erection hard against her stomach and knew suddenly what she wanted to do.

Pushing him away gently, she turned them around until he was the one pressed against the wall, her nails dancing over the firm muscles of his stomach. He hissed when her fingers wandered downwards and lightly grazed the bulge in his jeans, and she smiled. Their eyes met and held as she unbuckled his belt, undid his fly and zipper and she watched his pupils dilate when she grasped him. She stroked him slowly, pushing his jeans and boxers down to give herself more access, feeling him harden even more in her hand. After a minute, she dropped to her knees and slowly licked the length of him with just the tip of her tongue, never taking her eyes off his all the while. She repeated the action, base to head, head to base and back again until his jaw clenched.

"Emerson," he groaned.

Only then did she envelope him with her mouth and he made a strangled sound halfway between a gasp and a moan. Which reminded her that they hadn't put any kind of discretionary charms on the small room. She pulled away, grabbed her wand, muttered a Locking and a Silencing Charm and replaced him into her mouth, all within the span of a few seconds. He moaned again and Emerson closed her eyes, marveling at the feel of his firm length and how could something so hard feel so velvety soft all at the same time?

With as much of him inside her mouth as she could manage, she swirled her tongue over the head, which caused him to cry out and push her away. Pulling her up, he kissed her hungrily, his hands pushing up her top and bra. His mouth latched onto her breast and it was her turn to wordlessly exclaim. He moved to lavish attention on the other nipple and Em's knees went weak. If he kept up what he was doing, she knew that she would lose control of the situation. Which wouldn't exactly be a bad thing because she ached for him. But she also knew that they couldn't stay away from the party much longer before someone got suspicious.

Brandon began to unbutton her jeans and, with supreme effort, she grabbed his hands. He looked up at her, his eyes molten with desire. "I want you."

"Later," she whispered, kissing him quickly before returning to her knees.

She took him in again, her hands wandering over his bum, the muscles clenching under her caress. His clean, male aroma and the noises he was making as her head bobbed on him excited her, as did the way his hands tangled helplessly in her hair.

"Emerson. Oh, fuck, yes. Suck me," he whispered in a strained voice.

She sped up her movements, gently cupping his balls now, and he yelled. She felt him swelling in her mouth and opened her eyes to watch him. His head was thrown back, his eyes tightly closed, his mouth slightly open and his face suffused with ecstasy. He groaned deeply as his body began to jerk spasmodically, her name falling from his lips like rain, and she closed her eyes again, focusing now on prolonging his pleasure for as long as she could. It seemed to go on for ages, but at last he slumped back against the wall, gasping and she rubbed his thighs slowly until he calmed down.

Upon tucking him in and fixing his clothes, she stood up and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I love you."

He gazed at her with glassy eyes, his cheeks flushed. "I love you, too."

"Happy Birthday," she whispered, kissing him lightly again.

Then, straightening her own clothes, she checked her appearance in the mirror, washed her hands, magically touched up her lipstick and slipped out of the loo. She hurried down the hallway and snuck back into the crowded room, grabbing a bottle of butterbeer off the tray of a passing house elf. Taking a deep drag, she nonchalantly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Her body hummed with unfulfilled hunger and Emerson slowly blew out a deep breath, trying not to appear as if, for instance, she'd just blown her boyfriend to within an inch of his life.

"Oh, there you are," Marissa said, striding up to her. "Have you seen Brandon? We're about ready to have the cake brought out."

Em adopted a puzzled expression. "Isn't he with Marc and Eric?"

Marissa was craning her neck over the crowd. "Oh, there he is! Brandon! Get over here!"

She watched him approach, his face carefully composed. And then his eyes met hers and the look in their dark depths sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

"Hey, you," he said, smiling casually at her.

But his dark eyes smoldered still and Emerson blushed. "Hi."

He hugged her to him. "That was fucking incredible," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps all along her arms. "Don't make any plans for the rest of the night. You're mine."

Her body clenched at his words, her heart pounding within her. He pulled away and took her hand and she allowed him to drag her over to the table where a large chocolate cake sat with twenty-five lit candles burning merrily.

The crowd sang "Happy Birthday", which sounded different than usual because all the foreign guests sang in their own languages, entirely fitting for a man who spoke so many himself. Brandon didn't let go of her hand all the rest of the evening, as they ate cake, drank champagne and laughed at the antics of various Weasley offspring. By the time eight o'clock rolled around, the party was beginning to wind down. It had been going on for almost five hours and most everybody was knackered.

Marc, Marissa, Matthew and Eric suggested they take the party to this pub called The Highball over in Kensington, but Brandon begged off.

"I can't thank you all enough for doing this," he said to the room at large, standing at the top of the landing where he'd first been ambushed. "I'm just so incredibly lucky to know all of you, and I'm just so grateful. This was the best birthday I've ever had. So, thank you!"

The crowd cheered and applauded happily. After that people began to leave, but not before coming by to shake Brandon's hand and hug Em, thanking her for inviting them to such a fantastic bash. Em and Brandon offered to stay and help clean up, but they were told that the stadium staff would be doing that and were shooed out with mild affront. Em said goodbye to her parents and siblings, promising to spend the next day with them at Ballynore.

Brandon led her to the Apparation spot and she wrapped her arms around him and sighed. A thought occurred to her suddenly and she looked up. "Oh my gosh! Don't we have a dinner reservation for eight-thirty?"

"Oh, that," he said lazily. "I guess we'll have to cancel it, eh? Wait, you're not hungry, are you?"

She gave him a saucy smile and stood up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "Not in a way that any restaurant could satisfy."

He cupped her bottom and pulled her firmly against him. "I think I know just the thing that might help, madam. Hang on."

They returned to his flat and he set to the task of satisfying her hunger in that extraordinary way that only he could. He made tender love to her half the night, whispering his love for her, bringing her to the peak again and again. And when at last they lay sated and spent in each other's arms, Emerson could think of no other thought than of how happy she was, how safe, how loved.

How blessed.

********
TBC
********

End Notes:

1. The little poem thingie that Ben wrote is something else I memorized when I was young. Ye olde packrat of useless tidbits.

2. The story is winding down. I think there'll be one more all letters chapter, three normal ones and an epilogue. I'm going to try to have it all done by the end of this month. Because come June 1st, I'll be beginning my rereads of the Harry Potter books, in preparation for Half-Blood Prince. Only about seven weeks to go now, whoo-hoo! The epilogue of this story will be the absolute end of the Emerson Potter storyline/universe/whatchamacallit.

17. XVII

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers of the previous chapter! It is much appreciated, and also to Liss for beta-ing. Only three more chapters and an epilogue to go now. And only 50 days to HBP!! Can you tell I'm excited yet? :)

XVII

August 12

Dear Emerson,

Another post-visit letter, the very hardest kind to write, didn't we agree? Before my visit, I was glad about it being moved up, because it meant I would see you again so much sooner. But now that it's over and I'm back at work, I realize that, on the flip side, it also means an even longer wait till the next visit. Ah, well. Guess I can't have my cake and eat it too.

Remember my suspicions that Warezell might be up to something? Well, let's just say I'm even more sure of it than before. I don't have any solid proof or anything, but he and the other higher ups have been acting all mysterious. At first I thought it was just stuff to do with the new hirings, because we've gotten half a dozen new people for the department. Which is very welcome as far as I'm concerned, because that should make my schedule less hectic.

Anyway, I haven't a clue what it could be that they're up to, but there's definitely a kind of tension in the air. All the co-workers have been speculating and theorizing, but none of us know anything, really.

But enough about that. Hey, I'm glad we were able to go down to Cape Cod on my last visit. That was neat. It's a very picturesque area, isn't it, all those boats and clean, white, well, everything. I've never been one for the water, but I could see myself living there, or else holidaying there regularly. It was good of your friends to invite us down. They seem to be doing pretty well for themselves, don't they?

Can you believe we're already in the month of August? It was almost exactly a year ago that we found each other. Actually, I'd found you long before that (I still can't believe I sat on my feelings for seven years!), but it was only last year that I became desperate enough to overcome my cowardice. I knew I loved you when I was only seventeen, but in hindsight, it was probably for the best that I didn't do anything about it then. I might have analyzed myself out of this, the best thing to ever happen to me. You know, with teenage angst and all. And had we gotten together then, we might have fallen victim to what happened to Davis and Lyna (and Julia and her boyfriend, like you said).

As I write this, the thought of ever wondering if you were the one for me is utterly mind-boggling. I can't imagine ever questioning my love for you or my desire to spend my life with you. I know we haven't really talked about it out in the open. We've made coy and teasing references, but just in case you're not sure about where I want this relationship to go, let me say it (or write it, as the case may be). I want to put a ring on your finger, grow old with you. I want to be your lover for always, your only one. I can't find the words to say how I feel to know that I am the one you chose to give your virginity to. And I want to be the only man to ever touch you like that for the rest of our lives.

Christ, I'm getting sappy, aren't I? It's just that when I think about it, I can't believe how lucky I am. This year, even with the hardships that we've gone through (and still are, with being so far apart), has been the absolute best of my life. I've never, ever been so happy. And I hope with everything in me that it has been a predominantly positive one for you, too. I hope I can make you happy for always, that you'll continue to choose me. Because God knows I could never choose anyone else, not with knowing you like I do. Not with loving you like I do.

I hope all this doesn't make you feel weird in any way. Feel free to tell me to shut up with the sappiness if the urge arises.

Gotta go now. But know that I am completely, head over heels, can't-get-you -off-my-mind in love with you.

Smooches,
Brandon

*******

August 14

Dear Brandon,

It sure sounds like your bosses are up to something, yeah. I hope it's nothing bad. Do you think it is? Maybe there's to be some kind of restructuring or changes in the hierarchy or something. Whatever happens, I'm sure you'll remain the valuable asset that you are. They wouldn't be entrusting you with so much work if they didn't have the utmost faith in your abilities!

I agree about Cape Cod. It really is a gorgeous area. Lots of rich white people, some of whom live there year-round; thousands more are there with their families during the summer. The city shares the title of "Summer Haunt of the Wealthy" with Martha's Vineyard and Kennebunkport, Maine.

And yeah, Will and Arnie Shriver are really doing well for themselves. I'm very happy for them. I remember when money was a great issue for their family, but thankfully, they'll never have to worry again. At least, not if they continue to be as wise and respectful with their inheritance as they've been thus far. It was great to see them and we can always go back, remember? They gave us an open invitation to return any time.

Oh, Brandon, your last letter made me cry! But in a very good way. I know without a doubt that I'm the lucky one to have you in my life. When I think about it, I can't believe I spent all that time being oblivious to your feelings for me!

I love you so much, and of that fact, I am certain. Before you, I thought love was those feelings I felt with my old boyfriends, butterflies and other such, as Krishna would say, "rumbly in the tumbly" type things. Of course I felt those with you, and I still do. But there's so much more to it than that. With my old boyfriends, those feelings always faded, and there was never much of anything else left. Certainly, what was left never exactly filled me with confidence about what I was doing. I must have known that none of them was what I was looking for. That was likely why I kept that final frontier off-limits.

But with you, there's so much more than butterflies in the stomach. There's trust and so much support. There's fun and laughter. There's joy, which fills me up every time I think about you and helps me know with confidence that I'm doing the right thing. There's the knowledge that I can truly be myself in every way, and that the nastier aspects of who I am won't be held against me. There's the freedom to share anything without worrying about coming across as silly or weird. Oh, and let's not forget the incredible sex, he he.

You know, when I was a teenager, the sight of my Mum and Dad kissing would be absolutely mortifying to me. It embarrassed me, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other. It was never anything lewd or inappropriate but one couldn't help but sense that there was some kind of fire between them. And there still is. But now, that fire doesn't bother me. Now it fills me with happiness and hope. Because even as a moody, self-absorbed teen, I recognized that what my parents have is special. And I hoped (but only in the deepest, most secret recesses of my heart, of course) that one day I would know a love like theirs.

And I believe that I do. Brandon, your love has been exactly what I had been searching for, and I don't think I'll ever understand why it took me so long to realize that my soul mate had been right beside me all along.

I know how you feel about how this year has sped by. But for me, it's more a disbelief that it's been only a year. It feels like so much longer (in a good way, of course!). So much happened, the good, the not so good, and the downright horrible. But we've emerged stronger for it, and I know that what we've been through is only the first of many difficult times to come in our lives. But as long as I have you, I know I'll be fine.

And you'll have me. I choose you, Brandon Wood. For always. So don't ever worry or wonder about where my heart lies. You're the one I want, the only one. And I feel precious to know that I'm the one you want. I feel honored that you accepted my gift, and took such care with it. My virginity was something sacred to me and I'll always be proud of myself that I was able to hold onto it until I found you. At least, that's one instance where my stubbornness has come through for the better.

I have to confess, though, that your letter did make me feel weird. I felt tingles running up and down my spine, pricklings on my scalp and the tips of my toes. I felt breathless. My heart pounded and I felt like bursting into tears (and did). That's how "weird" your letter made me feel, and if that's a bad thing, then I guess I'm doomed because I loved it.

And don't even thing about leaving off the sap. You do and I just might have to tie you up and torture you until you're begging and swearing to write me love letters half a dozen times a day.

I love you, my Odie. This has been the best year of my life and if I managed to give you even a quarter of the happiness you gave me, I'll have succeeded. Only one more year to go with this separation thing and then I'll be haunting you so much, you'll probably be wishing for this continent-wide distance before long.

But I'll let you go now. I miss you and am eagerly counting down the weeks, the days till we can be together again.

I love you,
Emerson

********
TBC
********

18. XVIII

A/N: As always, muchas gracias to my reviewers of the last chapter. I'm still very surprised by the response to this story, considering it isn't exactly teeming with canon characters :) I appreciate it muchly. And profuse thanks, as always, to the lovely Liss for being my beta and being such a help. You rock!

XVIII

Fall returned to Cambridge, Massachusetts in a blaze of fiery leaves and blustery winds. There was a briskness to it all, as if the whole entity of the town, right down to the weather, realized that there was much to do, much to accomplish, and was ready to roll up its sleeves and get right to work, chop, chop.

Certainly, that was the feeling one got upon stepping foot onto Harvard campus as the new school year began. The faculty lumbered about with perpetual urgency, eager to impart more knowledge to their wide-eyed students. The pupils themselves, especially the freshmen, were almost reverent, desperate to jot down every word that a professor uttered. Of course, as the year went on, that reverence would more or less diminish and much of the urgency would recede, flaring only at those inevitable times when a test or project got assigned. But for the time being, studiousness and a lust for learning reigned, young minds much aware of the privilege they'd secured in being admitted to such a prestigious institution.

Emerson was no different, and as she entered what was technically her second year but academically was her final one, she found herself wrestling with myriad emotions. The most prominent one was excitement, for so many reasons. She was so proud of herself for all her hard work, and for the fact that she had thus far been able to handle all the pressure that she'd put on herself by undertaking what she had. For the most part, she felt satisfied with the state of her life and her relationships with her family, her friends and her lover.

But she couldn't deny that a part of her was very scared. In a year, it would be the end of another era, and after graduation would come the real test of her survival abilities. That was when she would need to enter the adult world in full, by obtaining a job and setting her sights on the next phase of her dream. The chances of her founding a successful dual practice straight out of college were not very high, even with the qualifications that she will have earned. She would need to work in a more established practice first, develop a client base and the respect of her colleagues. Only then would she have the confidence enough to truly put herself on the line and take the risk.

"That's what I think, anyway," Em said aloud to her roommate, before sighing and leaning back against the sofa.

The two young women were grabbing a quick moment of downtime together before they each would have to dash off to their respective classes. With a new year had come new schedules and they no longer had the Friday free periods that they'd come to treasure. It was the second week of October, a cold, drizzly day and they were sipping from large mugs of green tea in the Dudley House lounge area.

"I don't think you'll have any trouble finding a good practice to be a part of," Kady murmured. "With a Harvard degree, you'll have the Muggle side all set, and especially with working at Morningside. I'm sure the Doc would be happy to give you a good recommendation."

Emerson nodded. "I hope so. Maybe I should raise the subject when I go in to work today." She frowned suddenly, before sighing again. "I think Matt and I will be partnered together there for the rest of this quarter."

"Is it still weird for you?" her roommate asked, looking concerned.

"A little, yeah. I mean, we're not mad at each other anymore, but he's not quite as natural with me as he used to be. I think I hurt his feelings when-"

"And whose fault is that?" Kady interrupted, sharply. "No, Emerson. I won't sit here and let you blame yourself. He knew all along that you weren't available."

Em sighed. "I know, but-"

"But nothing. What could you have done other than what you did? Because if it's a matter of choosing between Brandon and Matt, well-"

Em snorted. "A no-brainer if ever there was one." As always when she thought about her boyfriend, joy welled up within her and she smiled serenely. "I'm going to marry him, Kady. Someday. He hasn't asked me or anything, but I know he's the one I want."

The two of them looked at each other and sighed blissfully before breaking into giggles. Kady sobered first. "Well, you're lucky that way. I don't have any prospects on that horizon at all. But hey, I'm still young, eh?"

Em shifted uncomfortably. She'd never brought up the conversation she'd had with Ben about his unconventional relationship with Kady. Anyway, there really wasn't a need to anymore, since Ben and Kady had decided that sex thrown into the mix of their friendship made things a bit too complicated. They'd realized that they didn't know each other well enough to be doing what they were, and neither of them really had the desire to truly pursue something more substantial. It made more sense for each of them to seek partnerships closer to home. One long distance relationship in their circle was more than enough, and Emerson and Brandon were handling their roles swimmingly.

"Don't worry, Kady," Em said gently. "There's someone out there for you. I know it."

The petite brunette smiled at her. "I hope to God you're right. But moving on. Did you hear?"

"About what?"

"That History professor, Fitchburg. Apparently, he divorced his wife over the summer to get a quickie marriage to some grad student he'd knocked up."

"Holy shit!" Emerson exclaimed. "So it's true, then? I thought it was just a rumor."

"Nope. It's true. It was all we could talk about in Business Administration this morning. We had a mock Ethics seminar, and somebody cleverly brought up that topic. Our professor couldn't forbid us from discussing it, of course. All she could do was not participate herself."

Em laughed and they spent the next few minutes discussing the scandal, which had of course been discovered by the media at large and was hot topic on all mediums. Their downtime ended much too soon for their liking and they parted, Kady hurrying to Managerial Capitalism and Emerson to Clinical Studies. The day passed quickly and she returned to her dorm after the last lecture of the day, intending to change into her work clothes. Matt Adler would be coming by and they would head over to Morningside together.

Upon refilling Axel's food bowl, she grabbed an apple and a bottle of water and shrugged into her jacket. Returning to the living room, she realized that she'd forgotten her Morningside badge and headed back to her bedroom. The badge was atop her cluttered desk, but when Em entered the room, it wasn't what caught her eye.

It was the snow globe on her desk. She had received it one Christmas from her Aunt Tonks, who said she'd always liked having them herself but with her clumsiness had never been able to own one for very long. The globe appeared to be just a regular snow globe, and technically it was. But at the beginning of August, Emerson's mother had placed a Protean charm on it, at the request of Carolyna Lupin Chapman. The charm was repeated on an identical globe that Lyna had, and if one was activated, the "snow" in the other would glow a brilliant neon blue and begin to swirl.

Just like the globe was doing at the moment.

For a second, Emerson stood frozen, staring at the fluorescent particles swirling within the glass ball. Lyna was in labor; that was what the swirling meant. Em had made her best friend promise that when her labor began, she would notify her. Which was why the charm had been put on the globes.

"Oh, Lyna," Em whispered, feeling herself on the verge of tears of excitement, anxiety and joy. In the beginning, her own painful experience with pregnancy had interfered with her responses to her best friend's blessing. But as time went by, it had become easier, so that now Lyna's letters and ultrasound pictures were almost always received with fierce excitement on Emerson's part. She was so happy for her best friend!

Grabbing her wand, she had a bag packed in less than a minute and shrunk it to fit in the pocket of her jacket. After hastily scribbling a note to her roommate, she charmed it to Kady's door with a spell that made it visible only the recipient. Then, taking a deep breath, she gathered herself to Disapparate to the IMA terminal. But just then the doorbell rang, and Emerson froze.

"Shit," she said out loud, realizing instantly who was at the door. She'd forgotten that Matt was coming over to accompany her to work. Hurrying forward, she pulled the door open. "Matt, hi."

He flashed his wide grin. "Hey. You ready to go?"

"Actually, I can't go in to work today. Something just came up. I'm really sorry," she said in a rush, stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind her.

The grin on Matt's face morphed into a slight frown. "Oh. How come?"

"I have to go home. My best friend is in labor, and I made her promise that she would send for me when it happened."

"Okay," he said, looking perplexed. "But how will you get there in time? I'm sure the labor isn't gonna pause itself until you arrive."

Em suppressed a smirk. "I think I'll manage. Could you tell the Doc for me? I'll try to be back by the day after tomorrow. Kady will inform my professors and anyway, I'm quite a ways into my curriculum so I won't be missing anything, really."

Matt nodded. "All right. Do you need a ride to the airport?"

"No, I'm okay, thanks. But you should go; you don't want to be late. I'll see you in a day or two, all right?"

She gave his arm a quick squeeze and hurried away before he could speak or otherwise detain her. As soon as she rounded the corner, she slipped into the nearest bathroom, concentrated and Disapparated.

Having been such a frequent customer in the past twelve months, the managers were happy to customize a Portkey to St. Mungo's for her and within minutes, Emerson found herself standing at the front desk of the famed wizarding hospital. All around her was the bizarre cacophony of noises typically associated with magic gone wrong, intentionally or otherwise. This wasn't really her destination, however, and she hurried in the direction of the lifts that led to the Maternity Ward. Being the eldest of four children and ten years older than her youngest sibling, Em quite knew the way.

"Emerson! There you are."

Her head whipped around and she smiled. "Uncle Remus." Giving him a quick hug, she pulled away and peered up at him. "How is she?"

Lyna's father was looking pale and tired, his grey hair and eyes adding to the weary air that clung to him. This was his first grandchild and Em could only imagine the myriad emotions he must be experiencing. "She's resting a bit. They gave her medication, of course, so she's not in any pain at the moment. She kept asking for you."

"Well, I'm here now," Em said, as they headed for Lyna's room. Davis's parents and other family members were sitting in chairs outside the room and she said a quick hello to them before slipping inside.

Aunt Tonks, Davis and Lyna's sister, Annamaria, looked up when she entered. "Emerson. Thank goodness you're here. She's been fretting that you wouldn't make it in time."

Em hugged each of them in turn before sitting down beside her friend's bed. Lyna was asleep on her side, her knees drawn up to her swollen belly, her breathing slow and even. From what Aunt Tonks was saying, Lyna had been in labor for almost nine hours and had only just nodded off.

"Having had a few false alarms, she wanted to be certain that this was the real thing before she had you come over. She knows you've been really busy," Aunt Tonks said, smoothing the edge of the blanket.

Emerson smiled at her friend. "That's our Lyna. Always thinking of others. Any idea when she might deliver?"

Annamaria shrugged. "At last check the Healer said she was only about five centimeters. So it could be a while yet."

"How're you doing, Davis?" Em asked the ash-blond wizard, who was staring at his sleeping wife with a tender expression. "You hanging in there?"

Davis nodded weakly. "You could say that, I guess."

"Think you'll faint?"

Annamaria answered before he could. "Nah. I think he'll puke."

Everybody snorted and Davis smiled genially. "Whatever, Anna. My baby will love me, anyway."

"Yes, he will," said a voice from the bed and everybody's heads whipped around. "Hi, Em."

"Lyna!" She threw her arms around her friend and they hugged each other tightly. Em pulled away and peered down into Lyna's honey eyes, feeling suddenly emotional. "How're you?"

Her friend smiled. "I'm okay. Scared, nervous, excited. I still can't believe I'll be somebody's mother, but I can't wait to meet him."

Em squeezed her hand and nodded. They talked quietly for a few minutes before the door of the room opened and the Healer entered, followed by Emerson's mother.

"Mum!" Em exclaimed, jumping up to hug her. "What're you doing here?"

Her mother squeezed her tightly before pulling away. "Lyna wants me to help with the delivery. Even though I'm strictly Magical Research and not Obstetrics."

"I just feel more comfortable when you're here, Aunt Hermione," Lyna said from the bed. "Healer Marshall's all right with it."

Hermione walked over and took her hand. "I'm honored to be here, Carolyna. How're you feeling?"

Before Lyna could answer, Healer Marshall announced that he was about to check her again. He discovered that she'd only progressed another inch, and everybody sat around to wait. The hours dragged by, and Lyna took little catnaps in between the examinations. Em had just returned from sending Brandon an owl, letting him know that she was in town, when the Healer announced that Lyna was fully dilated and ready to push.

Everyone gathered around excitedly, holding her hands, supporting her head and legs, urging her on, counting aloud. But an hour went by and although Lyna worked very hard, she didn't make very much progress at all, and the tension mounted steadily in the room. After another thirty minutes, she was tired and upset, her hair damp with sweat.

"I can't do this," she sobbed, tossing her head on the pillow.

Davis looked stricken, his skin as pale as his hair. He was holding her hand tightly, as if trying to transmit some of his strength to her that way. "You can, baby. You can do it."

Lyna's face was flushed and tear-stained and Em's heart ached for her friend. Aunt Tonks wiped Lyna's forehead and dropped a kiss on it, while Hermione conferred with the Healer in hushed whispers. After a minute, she went over and rubbed Lyna's arm soothingly.

"Lyna, your baby is right there, okay? Don't lose focus now. I know it's hard, but just focus, all right? Can you do that for me?"

"Y-yes," Lyna said, tears spilling out the sides of her eyes.

"All right. Let's do this," Hermione said, nodding at the Healer, who was already in position. "Push her leg back, Davis. You too, Anna. All right. Now, there's another contraction. Take a deep breath, press your chin to your chest, Lyna, and push."

Lyna did as she was told, her face scrunched up and reddening with the exertion. Her grip on Emerson's hand was so tight that Em fancied there would be bruises the next day. Hermione counted out the seconds in a strong, clear voice and Em felt almost as if everybody were helping Lyna push out her son. She had never been more proud of her best friend than she was in those long minutes, when Lyna was so clearly exhausted but still she remained focused; still she regrouped and pushed. Davis began to cry when the baby crowned and not long afterwards, the tiny boy finally emerged from his mother and loudly announced his arrival into the world.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Lyna was sobbing over and over again as the Healer placed the squalling infant on her stomach. "My baby. My baby."

Everybody was in tears, hugging each other and laughing as the baby's voice filled their ears. Em felt overwhelmed. She watched in somewhat of a daze as the baby was cleaned, wrapped in blankets and placed in his mother's arms. She watched Davis and Lyna lovingly examine him, whispering to each other in awed tones as they counted his little fingers and toes. They seemed lost in their own blissful world and Emerson's heart ached at the raw joy on both their faces.

And just like that, the old grief and guilt stabbed her in the chest, stabbed her so hard that her breath caught in her throat. This could've been her. This could've been her lying on that hospital bed, shedding tears of happiness over her child while Brandon gazed down at her as adoringly as Davis was looking at his wife.

"So what's the sprog's name, then?" Annamaria asked loudly, jolting Emerson from her anguished thoughts.

Lyna laughed. "Oh, that's right! You ready, Davis?"

"Yeah," Davis said, beaming with pride at his new son. "This perfect little bloke is hereby christened Rhys Theodore Chapman."

Aunt Tonks burst into tears at their having named their son after her father, Theodore "Ted" Tonks, while Uncle Remus, who had come in upon hearing Rhys's first cries, shook Davis's hand and kissed his daughter's cheek. Somebody else was wondering loudly whether the baby's first name had anything to do with those Muggle peanut butter chocolates, to the giddy laughter of the new parents, but Emerson felt suddenly separate from it all, as if she were merely watching strangers through a glass window.

It could've been me on that bed. That could've-

"Emerson."

Em blinked rapidly, trying to rearrange her face before she looked up. Davis and Lyna were beaming at her from atop the bed, their precious bundle nestled in Lyna's arms. "Come here. Rhys wants to meet his godmother."

Her head pounding from the effort of keeping herself composed, she walked over and gingerly accepted the tiny, ruddy-faced boy, who was fast asleep and oblivious to all the emotions swirling around him.

"He's beautiful, Lyna," Em whispered, smiling through her tears at her friend. "He's gorgeous."

She held Rhys for a few more minutes then kissed his small forehead and handed him back to his mother.

Lyna looked up from her baby's face. "Thank you so much for being here. I know you're insanely busy and-"

"Lyna, please," Em interrupted. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world; it was a beautiful experience. Thank you for letting me share it with you."

They hugged each other then Em hugged Davis and Annamaria too. Remus and Tonks had gone out to inform those waiting outside and Em desperately wanted to leave the room before she lost control of herself and broke down. She could sense her mother's inquiring eyes on her and managed to force a smile.

"I think I'm gonna go grab some sleep. I'm completely knackered. Which I'm sure is nothing to how you feel, eh?" She leaned over to kiss Lyna and Rhys. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right? Bye, Mum."

Then, slipping out of the room before her mother could question her, she quickly made her way through the ecstatic family members milling about outside, a smile plastered onto her face. The distress churned within her, causing her hands to tremble and her ears to ring, the ache, the hurt building inside until she feared that she would lose it right there in the hallway.

But then suddenly, he was there, his brown eyes seeing right through her and turning heavy with understanding, and she had never been so happy to see him in all her life. Brandon. He'd clearly gotten her owl and had come over, and oh God, she needed him. She stumbled to his arms, tears blurring her vision.

"Take me home, Odie. Please," she managed to choke out.

He steered her to the nearest deserted corridor and pulled out his personal Portkey. The next second she was in his apartment and all her defenses fell apart. The pain whipped and lashed her and she collapsed against him, defeated. All the tears, all the anguished noises that she'd tried so hard to keep in now gushed forth and she cried as if her heart was breaking.

She wasn't aware of being led to his bedroom. Vaguely, through her grief, she registered him pulling his covers back and helping her climb in. Vaguely she was aware of him climbing in with her, gathering her into his arms again, his voice steady and soothing even over the gut-wrenching sounds that issued from her throat. How long she cried, she didn't know but gradually the ache lessened enough for her tears to decrease, though it was a long time before they ceased altogether. The whole time Brandon held her fiercely, whispering words in a language that she didn't understand but which were exactly what she needed nevertheless.

He stroked her hair and kissed her sweaty forehead. "I love you. It's okay."

Em sighed deeply and looked up into his eyes, tears leaking from her own again.

He leaned forward and kissed her tears away. "Go to sleep. I'm here."

She must have obeyed because when she next opened her eyes, the room was darker and she was alone. There were lit candles floating in the air above the dresser. The alarm clock on his nightstand told her that she'd slept a little over two hours and rubbing her eyes, which felt grainy and leaden, Emerson sat up and stretched. Just then, the door opened and Brandon came in, levitating a tray ahead of him.

"Oh, you're awake," he said, coming over and setting the tray down on his nightstand.

A delicious, rich smell was filling the room and she gave him a quizzical look.

"I made you some soup," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Thought you might be hungry."

"Thank you," she said softly and was startled by how scratchy her voice sounded. She must've been really letting loose.

As if the same thought had occurred to him, Brandon touched her cheek. "Are you okay now?"

Em shrugged weakly. "I don't know."

"Well, maybe you'll feel better if you eat something."

He started to get up but knowing suddenly what would make her feel better, she grabbed his hand. "Brandon."

He looked back at her. "What is it?"

"Make love to me."

He stared at her for a few moments before leaning forward and kissing her tenderly. She kissed him back, and as his lips wandered to her neck, his fingers gently cupping her face, Em realized that he intended to take her at her word. He intended to make sweet, tender love to her, per her request.

And suddenly, she realized that that wasn't what she wanted after all. She wanted something that was as unrefined, as frenzied, as raw as she felt inside. She wanted it all out.

"Brandon."

He pulled away. "Hmm?"

"I changed my mind." His eyes began to cloud and she hurried on. "I don't want to make love. I want to fuck."

That fevered, dangerous look that she much recognized came into his eyes then, and she shivered. His hands burrowed under her top, pushed her bra up and cupped her breasts. She moaned, then gasped when his fingers clamped down on her hardened nipples.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered, his teeth grazing the skin of her earlobe.

He pulled her nipples, squeezing them roughly and she moaned, leaning into his hands, welcoming the pain that mingled with the pleasure, feeling her knickers rapidly moisten.

"Yes."

He kissed her and it was so far removed from the tender caresses of mere minutes ago that her breath died in her lungs. He slipped out of his clothes and divested her of her own before his hands delved between her legs. Emerson cried out when his fingers pushed into her, his thumb circling her nub while his lips plundered the skin of her neck. Her whole body felt on fire and she couldn't help the whimper of dismay that escaped her mouth when his fingers left her.

But then he settled on top of her and the next second, his fingers had been replaced by the very best thing they could possibly have been replaced by and she locked her legs around his hips as he rode her. He slammed into her repeatedly, harder and faster, and she surrendered to him, giving him her body, her heart, her pain, her everything. Trusting him with all she had that he could and would put out the multi-faceted storm that raged within her.

And all the while, he whispered, "Is this what you want? Is this what you want?"

Her mouth opened but she couldn't get the words out, couldn't answer him, because her mind was being taken over. The furious torrent began swelling within her and her hips rose to meet his, again and again, her voice finally breaking free but not with any words that could be either comprehended or translated. The sound echoed through the room, sweat beading on her forehead, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her heart pounding a rhythm with the blood in her ears.

He left her but before she could even register the loss, his mouth was on her, working its magic, driving her higher still, wilder still, louder still. Her back arched as she came in a blinding rush, sobbing from the sweet agony of it, the pain and pleasure all rolled up in one. His mouth disappeared and he slid back up her body and sheathed himself within her again, filling her so completely that she cried out. He began to move so slowly that even as the tremors of release continued to wrack her body, she wanted to scream with frustration at the pace he was setting.

"Is this what you want?" He rolled them over so that she was on top and grasping her hips, began to drive up into her. "Is this what you need?"

She called out his name helplessly in response. "Brandon!"

He crushed her to him, his breath harsh in her ear. "Oh Merlin, Em. Fuck me."

A delicious wave of sensation swept over her at his words and she began to move as if she would die if she ever slowed, if she ever stopped. He groaned and flipped them again, pushing her legs back against her chest. He was gripping her hips with a strength that would probably have her sporting bruises the next day but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered but him and what he was giving her, what she was giving him. The new position allowed for maximum penetration and she felt like he was touching her very soul.

"I love you. I love you," she sobbed.

He kissed her and the taste of herself on his lips had her clenching involuntarily as his thrusts took on an urgency that left her helpless to do anything but gasp open-mouthed. He had never been quite so rough with her before, but it must have excited her on some primal level because she came so hard that she literally blacked out, dragging him over the tumultuous edge with her, released and enraptured.

Freed. At least for a little while.

When she woke up the second time, he was asleep beside her, his breaths even and deep. Emerson lay still for a long time, watching him as consciousness slowly returned to her. The first thing she was aware of was that she was starving and she slipped silently out of the bed, all her muscles awakening to scream in protest. Walking gingerly to the bathroom, she took a long, hot shower, which did away with much of the aches.

After drying off, she wrapped herself in one of Brandon's bathrobes and headed to the kitchen, where she reheated the soup he'd made and slapped together some sandwiches. Upon ravenously eating her fill, she conjured up a fire in his fireplace and sat staring at the jumping orange flames. She held herself still, trying not to think about how she'd fallen apart, trying not to acknowledge the one thought that had repeatedly been plaguing her, the one thought that she couldn't bring herself to share with anyone.

She could just imagine what Dr. Frasier would say. The doctor would say that she was merely projecting her guilt over the unwanted pregnancy into yet another avenue, yet another outlet, milking it for all it was worth. And maybe she was right. Maybe that was all it was, but it didn't make the fear any less real.

Emerson sighed. A sound behind her made her whip around and she smiled. Brandon was walking towards her, wrapped in another of his bathrobes, his hair wet from the shower. She must've been deeper in thought than she'd realized because she hadn't heard the water running.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he repeated.

He sounded almost shy and she tried not to smile. "Are you hungry? I made sandwiches."

"No, I'm okay, thanks." He walked over and sat down beside her on the couch. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head and kissed him lightly on the lips. "No. On the contrary, I feel loads better. Nothing like an energetic shag to lift one's spirits."

His dark eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well, glad to have been of service."

"And such excellent service, too," she whispered, reaching out to give his crotch an affectionate squeeze.

She smirked at the sound he made before leaning back against him. His arms wrapped around her and they were quiet for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Brandon broke the silence, revealing the direction of his musings. "How's Carolyna?"

Em smiled. "She's okay. It was a really long and hard labor but once the baby arrived, she seemed to immediately forget all that had happened before." She fell quiet for a minute. "He's beautiful, you know. The baby. They named him Rhys Theodore. He looks like Davis but I think he's gonna have Lyna's eyes."

She felt him nod but it was awhile before he spoke. "Emerson?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you, you know-"

He hesitated and she twisted around to look at him, knowing what he was asking. "Jealous?"

He nodded, his eyes gentle.

"No," she answered. "I'm completely thrilled for them. It's just, it hurts at the same time. I'm not exactly sure why, actually, but it does. But no, I'm not jealous. I know I'm not ready to be a mother. I'm still a bit too selfish."

He leaned back to gape at her incredulously. "You? Selfish?"

"When it comes to you, I am," she explained. "Remember Thanksgiving and Eric? I didn't want to share your attention with him and that was only for three days. A child, especially our own, is for a lifetime and while I definitely do want that eventually, I'm not quite ready to share you just yet."

"Okay," he said softly, hugging her to him and dropping a few light kisses on her neck and shoulder.

"Brandon?"

"Yeah?"

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

He was silent for a moment and she looked up to see him biting his bottom lip, his brow furrowed as he stared into the fire. "In five years, I see myself at a somewhat higher level in the hierarchy at work. I see myself playing more of an active role in our families' corporation." He looked down at her and smiled. "I see myself married to you."

Emerson blushed, a warm glow spreading through her whole being. She beamed at him before sobering as a thought occurred to her. "Do we have, you know, children?"

"No," he said quietly. "Not yet."

She nodded, feeling on the verge of tears all of a sudden as that one pesky, persistent thought again jumped into her head, hammering against the forefront of her mind. "I'm so scared," she blurted.

He peered at her with concern. "Of what?"

"What if I can't... again? What if that was my one chance and I blew it?"

There, the words were out. That was the thought that had been weighing on her ever since that horrible night on the floor of her bathroom at Harvard. That was the thought that kept jumping in to pollute the pool of her happiness for her best friend. That was the thought that wouldn't go away.

Brandon turned her face to his. "It wasn't and you didn't. We'll have children, Emerson. You'll see. We'll have a whole gaggle of them."

She smiled through her tears. "A gaggle?"

"Sure, if that's what you want." At her snickers, he adopted a quizzical look. "Why? We can't have a gaggle?"

"Well, certainly. If we were having geese or something."

They burst into hysterical laughter, gripping each other, and as always when she heard his merry sounds, Emerson felt so much better.

He sobered first and caressed her face as he gazed into her eyes. "We will have children, Em."

And she believed him. "Okay." Hope bubbled inside her and she leaned back against his chest and sighed deeply. After a few moments, she spoke again. "How many do you want?"

"As many as you do."

Em smiled. "I want two. A boy and a girl. I want the boy first."

"I'll keep that in mind, madam," he said, sounding amused.

She sighed again and nothing much was uttered thereafter. They sat quietly in the deepening darkness as the flames died away in the fireplace until only glowing coals were left. Then, still without speaking, they walked hand in hand back to the bedroom, shrugged out of their robes, climbed into bed and fell asleep.

**********

It was weak, grey daylight that woke her a few hours later and she turned her face away and reached out for the warm body of the man she loved. Her questing fingers came up empty, however, and she opened her eyes. She was alone in the bed and a quick glance at the clock on his bedside table informed her that it was after ten o'clock.

Em sighed. It was a weekday and Brandon had obviously gone to work, which the note on his pillow confirmed.

That's good, right? Because this way you have some time to come clean with your parents.

The thought made her freeze and she squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she needed to do this, to tell her parents about the pregnancy and miscarriage. Dr. Frasier had been urging her to do that from the very beginning, saying that a large part of the guilt Em was experiencing was due to keeping such a huge secret from her folks. And she was right, Em knew, but it was just so hard! It was so hard.

"But I have to do it," she whispered to herself, refolding Brandon's note. "I have to. Besides, I'm pretty sure Mum knows something is up, especially after how I was acting last night."

There was nothing else to do but square her shoulders and do the right thing. She had a great relationship with her parents, and they loved her. Emerson forced herself to keep those thoughts in mind as she got ready to go over to Ballynore, but her heart pounded in her chest nevertheless. She was so nervous that she couldn't even eat the buttered toast that she made for herself and finally just drank a glass of water and Disapparated.

The Ballynore arrival chimes filled her ears and she smiled in spite of herself. No matter how many times she heard them the sound never failed to fill her with that rush of happiness, of coming home to where she belonged and a soft place to fall.

That's what you should count on right now. That soft place...

Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the family room, just as her mother emerged from the kitchen.

"Hey there," Mum said, breaking into a wide smile.

Em smiled back. "Mum."

They hugged each other. "I'm so happy to see you. How're you?"

Em shrugged. "I'm all right. A bit tired."

"Want something to eat? Drink?"

Her stomach still churned in anxiety and she shook her head. "Maybe some tea."

"Okay."

Em followed her mother into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast nook while her Mum charmed some water to boil. Her feet were jiggling in nervousness under the table and she kept clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. She accepted the cup of fragrant chamomile tea that her mother presented and took a sip.

"Thank you."

Mum sat down across from her. "So, how's everything going? Are you still managing with your coursework?"

Em seized the opportunity to put off making her confession. "Yeah. It's gotten a lot easier, actually. Last year was more of a struggle because I was still learning my limits and figuring out how much I could handle at one time." She paused and took another sip. "Also it helps that now the end is coming within sight and that keeps me motivated, you know?"

"I can understand that," Mum said, nodding. "Nothing like the prospect of accomplishment to really spur one on."

"Something I've noticed with the classes is that most of them are inter-related. Like, if you've done Microbiology, chances are when you get around to Clinical Studies, which I'm doing this term, a lot of the things are very familiar. I don't know if it's like that in other fields, though."

Mum tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Yes, that's true. It's mostly in the scientific professions, I believe, because so many things tie in together."

They talked for a while about the similarities between magical research and the Muggle variety, and then the conversation turned to their family. Mum had received another owl about Budget from Hogwarts, which was not at all surprising anymore.

"We've gotten more owls about him than all of the rest of you combined," Hermione sighed. "I think I understand how Molly Weasley felt when Fred and George were at Hogwarts."

Em grinned. "What did he do this time?"

"I'm not even sure I remember. All his pranks and misbehaving have quite begun to get mixed up in my mind." She sighed again and rolled her eyes. "Of course your father doesn't consider it anything serious. He finds the whole thing funny. Boys will be boys and all that."

Emerson stiffened at her mother's mention of her father and the anxiety that had shifted to the back of her mind now returned to the forefront with a vengeance. Mum was talking about Davina and how the second year had started a campaign of sorts to have more of the Arts at Hogwarts, but Em was so distracted now that she could only nod and offer weak smiles.

Her mother's voice faded and Em looked up to find herself being watched concernedly. "Something on your mind?"

"Is Dad here?" she asked, stalling.

"No. He's at the office, but he might be coming by for lunch. Why?"

Em didn't answer, feeling her heart start to pound and a knot twisting in her stomach. "Um-"

"Is this about Lyna?" Mum asked, her voice soft.

Em looked up quickly. "Lyna? Why? Has something happened since-"

"No, no, she's fine. Rhys is fine. It's just that you looked a little distressed last night, after the delivery. And you left quickly afterwards, almost as if you were running away."

Biting the inside of her mouth, Em suppressed a grudging smile. She could never hide anything from her mother, not for long. Mum could read her, could read any of her loved ones like a book. The only reason she'd managed to keep her secret as long as she had was because she no longer lived at home and was, in fact, a continent away the vast majority of the time.

"I can understand why it would be strange for you," Mum was saying, and Em's heart seized in her chest. But then she continued. "I imagine it was strange seeing your best friend make such a huge step. You two have been best friends since you were five years old, and now Lyna's an adult in every real sense of the word. That must've been a bit jarring."

Feeling tears pricking at her eyes, Em took deep gulps of air and put down her half-empty cup. "No, it's not that. I mean, it was jarring, but not for the reason you think."

"Why was it jarring?" Mum asked quietly.

"Because-" her voice caught in her throat and she swallowed hard, tears spilling from her eyes. "Because it hit me that I could've been the one on that bed."

There was a brief silence before her mother spoke again, sounding bewildered. "What?"

"When I went back to school after Christmas, I discovered that I was pregnant," Em rushed on, staring unseeingly into the cup before her.

And suddenly, it was as if she couldn't stop talking. It was as if that first sentence had shattered whatever it was that had been holding her back and the words were just pouring out of her mouth, all her fear, all the tears and agonizing that she'd done. She talked about the miscarriage, the blinding pain, about Brandon finding her on the floor of her bathroom, about learning that the pregnancy was ectopic. Through the sobs that overtook her, she talked about her guilt, about not wanting the baby and being happy that it was gone. She talked about Brandon, about how wonderful he was, how hard it had been to be around him, her fear of the loss of him and the discovery that that fear had been unwarranted because he loved her, still loved her so much in spite of how horrible she had been to him.

"I'm really sorry I d-d-didn't tell you. I'm so s-sorry, Mum!" she choked. "But I was so scared!"

Her mother was gaping at her wide-eyed, her face white with shock. She didn't speak for a long time, just stared at Em, until finally she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm not quite sure I believe what I just heard. Are you telling me that you were pregnant?"

Em nodded. "Yes."

"But you had a miscarriage?"

"Y-yes."

"Because it was ectopic?"

Em sobbed and nodded.

Her mother's voice had dropped to a deadly whisper. "And you're only just telling me this?"

"I'm sorry, Mum. I wanted to tell you but-"

"But what, Emerson?" Mum interrupted sharply, her brown eyes boring into Em's. "How could you not tell us something like that? What were you afraid of? Did you think we wouldn't be there for you?"

"No, I-I didn't think that. I-"

"Then, what? When was this, again? After Christmas? Seven, eight months ago? And you're only just telling me now? Why? Why, Emerson?"

Em couldn't look at her, couldn't bear the look on her mother's face. "Because I was ashamed. I knew you would be disappointed in me and I couldn't bear to tell you."

"Emerson, I'm not so much disappointed as hurt. I'm hurt that you didn't trust me enough to share something like that with me. I thought we had a good relationship? I thought we had something where you knew you could come to me with anything."

The pain in her mother's voice, and the knowledge that she was the cause of that pain had Em sobbing anew. Never had it crossed her mind that this could be the effect of her secret. She'd always thought that disappointment would her parents' initial response to her irresponsibility. She'd never thought that it would hurt them that she kept it from them, and all she could do was repeatedly say how sorry she was.

"I never meant to hurt you," she whispered miserably.

Her mother's eyes were wet, but before she could say anything, the arrival chimes began to ring and they both froze. Em hastily wiped at her eyes but before she could do anything else, her father strode into the room.

"Hermione? Oh, there you- Emerson!"

Em tried to smile but she was too miserable to really succeed. "Hi, Dad."

The smile died on his face as he looked at her. "Have you been crying? What's wrong?" He glanced over at Mum and frowned. "Hermione? Has something happened?"

Mum stood up. "I'll leave you two to talk."

"Mum, please don't go," Em said quickly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Please?"

Her mother blinked rapidly, took a deep breath and sat down again, her face tight.

Feeling weak, Emerson sat down too and looked up at her father. "Dad, there's something I need to tell you. Could you-" she gestured at the chairs.

He obeyed, looking worried. "What is it?"

"I should've told you a long time ago and I'm really sorry that I didn't. I never thought-" She made herself stop and take a deep breath. Then, staring at her hands, she repeated the whole story, everything she'd just shared with her mother. When she had no more words, her voice faded from the room and a horrible silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. Her father stood up so abruptly that Emerson started and looked up. He strode over to the paneled glass windows and stood rigidly with his back to them, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Dad? Please say something."

"Say what, Emerson?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "What do you want me to say? Oh, perhaps I should start by expressing my disbelief at how you seem to have managed to discard everything your mother and I have taught you about responsibility, about owning your own actions, about standing up and being accountable."

"Daddy-"

He spun around, his green eyes blazing with myriad emotions. "Perhaps I should then move on to sharing how angry it makes me that you kept something like that from us, the knowledge that we almost lost our daughter, the knowledge that there was a time when she desperately needed us but somebody decided that it wasn't our business-"

"Daddy, I'm sorry-"

"-somebody decided that she was too grown to need us, that she was too old, too wise, too mature to ask for help, the help that we wouldn't have hesitated to give to her because we love her."

"I'm so sorry, Daddy."

"How could you keep this from us, Emerson? Why? What did you think we would do? Are we such horrible parents that you were afraid to come to us? Have we not supported you in everything? Have we not been there for you?"

The look in his eyes was killing her and Em felt like her heart was breaking. She never thought they would respond this way. Oh God, how she wished she hadn't kept it quiet! At least, not for so long. She should've told them before now; she should've told them a long time ago.

"I don't understand," he said, his voice rising with hurt and anger. "Help me understand! Tell me what you were thinking, Em, because I don't get it!"

"Harry," Mum interjected.

His head whipped around and when he spoke, it was in a chill whisper. "Can I talk to my daughter, please, Hermione?"

Mum gave him a cold look but didn't speak and he turned back to Em. She wiped her eyes with trembling hands and gazed into the wounded face of the man she looked up to, the man she admired so much. The man she had just hurt so badly.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

He stared at her for a second before his face broke and he grabbed her. He hugged her fiercely and she could feel him trembling, which made her start to cry again. She felt Mum's arms encircle them both and for a long minute, they wept together in the kitchen.

"I am so stupid," Em said hoarsely when they finally pulled apart. "I kept thinking about how disappointed you would be, because it had been only weeks before that I'd been telling you how mature I was, that I could handle what I was trying to do."

Her father squeezed her hand and she continued. "And I wondered, was I pregnant at that time? When I was convincing you of my bloody maturity, was I already-" her voice broke and she had to stop and compose herself. "T-The thing that really bothers me about the whole thing is my response to the miscarriage. I couldn't deny that I'd felt a rush of relief when I realized what it meant. And that really haunted me, because it made me see a very unpleasant side of myself."

"It was a normal response, Em," Mum said gently. "And now that I've had a chance to calm down a bit, I understand why you didn't tell us."

Em looked up, hope bubbling within her. "You do?"

"I don't agree with what you did, and I'm still very hurt and angry that you chose to keep this from us for so long. But I can understand why you made that choice."

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes and Emerson was feeling very small and miserable, indeed. She wished Brandon was there, and with that thought, felt suddenly alarmed.

Her head jerked up and she gazed anxiously at her parents. "Please don't blame Brandon for this, okay? He was wonderful. He was coming down every weekend after it happened and he was urging me to talk to someone, but it was my choice not to tell you. I decided to talk to Dr. Frasier, though, just for that impartiality, and because she's helped me before."

Her parents exchanged glances. "So that's why he was visiting so often. We wondered about that, of course, and when we questioned him, he simply said he really missed you and was grabbing the chances while he could. I thought it was sweet," Mum said.

Dad scowled. "He lied to us, Hermione. There's nothing sweet about that."

"I made him promise not to tell you," Em insisted. "It's not his fault."

"Not his fault? He impregnated you, didn't he?"

"I was there, too, Dad!" Em cried. "It was our mistake. And he suffered unfairly for it, when he was just trying to be there for me and I couldn't stand to be around him."

Her mother sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily. "Did you say you've been talking to Dr. Frasier?"

Em nodded. "Yes. She's been great. She's helped me a lot, but I still have a ways to go, I think. I'm still guilty about not wanting the baby, and I'm scared that I won't ever get another shot at it."

"If you hadn't miscarried, what would you have done?" Mum asked, regarding her closely.

Em felt startled by the question. She had of course thought about it many times but she hadn't expected her parents to ask her that. Pulling her hands away from her father's, she folded them in her lap as the image of Lyna in the hospital bed with her newborn baby floated into her mind and her eyes filled up. If she hadn't miscarried, she would've had a baby too. Her and Lyna's babies would've been a month apart in age, just like she and Lyna were.

"If I hadn't miscarried-" Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes for a second. "I would've... I would've left school, I guess. I would've married Brandon and had our baby. I would've loved that child; I know I would have!"

Her mother gathered her into her arms and held her close. "Of course you would have, Em. Of course you would have. Shh, it's okay. "

It took her a while to calm down but once she did, Em pulled away and shakily wiped her eyes. "I'm quite a crybaby, aren't I?" Taking a deep breath, she looked between them, these wonderful people who loved her. "Mum, Dad, I can't apologize enough. I am so sorry. No matter how much of an adult I am, it was wrong to keep something like that from you. I know you worry about me being so far away from home, and learning something like this doesn't help. I'm really sorry and I hope you can forgive me, for everything."

Her father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking suddenly weary. "I'm going to need a little time to assimilate everything, get my head sorted out." Standing up, he stepped away from the table. "I think I'm going to go lie down for a bit."

"I'll go with you," Mum said, standing up as well. "Try to eat something, Em, and get some rest. When are you going back to school?"

"Early tomorrow morning," she answered.

Her mother nodded. "All right. This isn't over. We'll need to have a long, honest talk with you and Brandon. But we love you, you know that, don't you?"

"I know."

She watched them walk hand in hand out of the room and for a long time just sat numbly in the empty kitchen, her tea cooling steadily in the cup before her.

********
TBC
********

End Notes:

1. Lyna's son's name, Rhys, is pronounced "Reese". That's how I'd originally had it spelled, but my awesome beta, Lissanne, recommended I use the traditional Welsh spelling of the name, and I agreed. It looks so much cooler that way.

2. Two more chapters, an epilogue and this is over. I haven't written the last chapter or the epilogue yet, but I'm determined to do it before June 1st. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone beckons!

19. XIX

A/N: Thanks so much to my reviewers of the last chapter! I'm very glad that I got around to doing what everyone was saying I should do (have Em tell her parents about "the terrible thing", as one reviewer phrased it :). And, as always, much appreciation to Liss for the beta. Enjoy!

XIX

October 11

"Wood, a word in my office."

Brandon looked up from the report he was writing to see his boss, Timon Warezell, gazing down at him. The elderly man's expression was grave and Brandon felt a twinge of unease. But then again, Warezell always looked grave so it was probably nothing to get concerned about. Anyway, Brandon had noticed an increase in the number of his co-workers being called to Warezell's office. He had been in a few times himself but it was always for debriefings or updates on various assignments.

That didn't mean they hadn't all speculated, though. The distinctive odor of impending change was in the air but so far none of them had managed to gleam anything either substantial or realistic.

Sighing, he pushed back his chair and stood up. He hoped his boss wasn't looking for any kind of in-depth information because Brandon was so distracted that he'd barely made any kind of headway on the report. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions, mostly of the anxious variety, and had been since the previous afternoon when the owl had arrived from Emerson saying that she needed to talk to him right away. He'd Apparated to his flat to find her in tears, where she'd informed him that she'd told her parents the whole story.

"What story?" he'd asked.

"About the miscarriage," she replied. "Oh, Brandon, they were so angry! Not so much because of the pregnancy but because I waited so long to tell them about it."

He'd held her close and tried to comfort her, even as his own heart beat in a panic inside his chest. Her parents wanted to talk to them both, Em had said, and they'd been planning to go over to Ballynore that night. But some kind of development had occurred with Dr. Granger's research and she'd had to go to St. Mungo's. Meanwhile, Em had returned to school early that morning, so the talk would have to be put off or held separately.

Brandon found himself wrestling with the decision as to whether or not to wait until the next time Emerson was in town or to just go to her parents and get his tongue lashing over with. He certainly wasn't in any hurry to face an angry Harry Potter, and Dr. Granger was nothing to be sneezed at, either. But the more he thought about it, the surer he was that the latter option was the best one. It was the fact that he and Em had kept the information a secret that upset her parents. Any more beating around the bush on his part would only make things worse.

"Are you ever going to sit?" barked Warezell in his deep, rumbling voice.

Brandon's head snapped up. "Oh, sorry, sir. I was thinking about something."

"Well, that much was obvious," Warezell grumbled. "Now, Wood, the reason I called you in here- hold on a second." Grabbing his wand, he quickly locked and soundproofed the room, then fixed Brandon with a beady eye. "What I'm going to tell you is sensitive information, which is why I just cast those charms. You hear?"

"Sure," Brandon said, his interest piqued. Was Warezell going to talk about the coming change that all of them could practically taste but had no idea as to whether the flavor would be bitter or sweet? "What's up?"

"All right. John Needham, Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, is retiring."

Brandon's eyebrows arched. Now that was big news! A departure from that high up meant an inevitable jostling of the entire department from that point downwards. His division was under the Magical Games and Sports umbrella. "He is? Then that means-"

"That I'm the next Assistant. And I-"

"So you're leaving? Who's going to be the new Head of International Liaisons?"

Warezell glared at him. "Will you shut your gob and let me finish? Now the way the hierarchy works, I'm now directly below the Head of the Department, which means that I'm the new Assistant." He rubbed his gnarly gray beard and snorted. "Well, as it is, I have no interest in leaving this division, certainly not to be assistant to Bloomfield. We've never exactly seen eye to eye on things."

Now that would be putting it mildly, Brandon thought, suppressing a snort of his own. Warezell was always upsetting foreign officials, who would then bombard Bloomfield with angry letters.

"Besides, I'm much too old for all the running around that comes with the position and I've no interest in the posturing and arse-kissing, either. God knows I do enough of that here in dealing with these foreign idiots."

"Okay." Brandon knew better than to say anything else. It didn't take very much to get his boss ranting about the international Quidditch officials that he dealt with on a daily basis. An outsider would probably wonder why he didn't just quit if he disliked it so much, but those in the department knew that Warezell loved his job and was very good at it, too. That is, when he wasn't infuriating somebody or the other.

Warezell leaned back in his chair. "Which is where you come in."

Brandon blinked. "I do?"

"Yes. How would you like the position?"

There was a long silence. "Uh?"

"Yes," Warezell repeated. "How would you like to be the Assistant to the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports? You'd be perfect for the role, with your diplomatic experience and linguistic skills. You work well under pressure, and I should know. Haven't you wondered why I've been dumping all those assignments on you, sending you all over the place?"

Brandon sat stunned in his seat, his mind whirling. Warezell wanted him to be the Head's Assistant! But- "But what about Dunn? Resvik? Thorpe? They're all senior-"

"They're all senior arseholes," Warezell snapped. "They don't have half the integrity or initiative in my teenage son's left pinkie and God knows the kid is a fucking work in progress. Besides, I get to decide what I want to do with what is rightfully mine. If I don't want it, I get to choose who it goes to, and I choose you. Think about it. You're what, twenty-five years old?"

Brandon nodded dumbly.

"Bloomfield has a good five, maybe ten years left in him before he'll have had enough of the bullshit. You take the Assistant position, you're poised to be the youngest Head of our illustrious department since that pisshead Ludo Bagman."

Brandon couldn't believe his ears. Never had he thought that things could happen so quickly or get so far! Sure, he had dreamed about it, but they were just that - dreams. Only last night, Em had asked him where he saw himself in five years and he'd said something about being higher up in the hierarchy at work. But he'd never thought so far as Assistant to the Head!

"I- wow- I'm-" he stammered.

"You're the best person I've hired in ten years," his boss said gruffly, and coming from as curmudgeonly a fellow as he was, that was high praise, indeed. "I was testing you this year, trying to see how much you could take, how much pressure you would handle. And you didn't disappoint. You performed beautifully and left all those countries with them not so subtly hinting to me that they'd like you to handle all their future dealings with us. Even back in February or so when you took every weekend off to go see your woman, your work never suffered-"

Warezell was still speaking but his words were unintelligible to Brandon all of a sudden. That last comment had made the exhilaration inside him plummet so fast that he felt momentarily dizzy.

Because if he thought he was busy now, it was nothing compared to how he would be as the Assistant to the Head of the most Quidditch-centric nation on Earth. The Assistant handled the brunt of the daily affairs, the actual Head position being more symbolic rather than anything else. At the moment, his workload was such that he could only manage a weekend a month with Emerson. If he accepted the position that his boss was offering him, with her being over in Boston, he would be lucky if he got to see her once every six months. The very thought was paralyzing.

"Oh God," he murmured under his breath.

His boss heard him and seemed to mistake it for something other than the distress that it was. "I know it's a lot to swallow all at once. Why don't you take some time to think about it, talk it over with your folks? I must say that I, for one, am glad you chose a Ministry job and not something so one-dimensional as being a mere Quidditch player. This is a wonderful opportunity for you, and I'd be honored if you were to accept it."

He stood up and Brandon followed his lead in somewhat of a daze. "I'll think about it, sir. And thank you."

"Remember, this is a very delicate matter so be careful who you share this with. Very few know about it and we'd like to keep it that way until such a time as we're ready to make an official announcement."

Brandon nodded gravely. "I understand." They shook hands and he turned to go. But upon reaching the door, he paused and looked back. "Could I have the afternoon off, sir? There's somebody I need to talk to, and this new information has made it a lot more urgent."

"Of course," Warezell said, waving him away. "Just make sure you're here tomorrow. I'm expecting a flood of League memos and I'll need all hands on deck, as the Muggles say."

Back at his desk, Brandon shrugged into his cloak and hurried to the Apparation spot. His whole life seemed poised to take a radical shift and he found himself suddenly terrified. And with that terror came a burst of adrenaline. Something that he'd been putting off before felt absolutely critical now, and the adrenaline pushed his earlier hesitation way into the background.

"Brandon! How're you?" exclaimed Alice, the red-headed receptionist at Puddlemere's front desk.

He managed a smile. "I'm fine, thanks. How's it going?"

"Very well, thank you. Are you here to see your father?"

"No, the other C.E.O., actually. Is he here?"

Alice nodded. "He's in his office. Is he expecting you?"

"No, but I hope you can squeeze me in?"

"Sure. I'll tell him you're on your way up."

He smiled at her. "Thanks."

The ride in the lift seemed unbelievably brief and Brandon took deep breaths, steeling himself for what he was certain would be a difficult encounter. Emerson's parents weren't very happy with him at the moment and he hoped that by taking the initiative he might soften some of her father's wrath.

The secretary waved him in but in his nervousness, he knocked anyway.

"Come in."

Closing his eyes for a second, he opened the door and stepped inside. Harry Potter was sitting behind his desk, his expression unreadable and his emerald eyes, which Em had inherited perfectly, were quite guarded. His hands were tented on top of his wide mahogany desk and he was gazing steadily ahead, the very picture of power and prestige.

Brandon gulped. "Er, thank you for seeing me."

"Close the door and have a seat."

He hastened to obey, feeling himself reddening. He'd known Harry Potter all his life, had called him 'Uncle' for the vast majority of it, and admired him tremendously. He knew of the stories and legends associated with this man but it was memories of talking Quidditch and backyard pick-up matches that jumped to mind when he heard the name. It was countless Boxing Days at Woodhaven and dinners at Ballynore. Harry Potter was as real to him as his own father and that was why Brandon was so nervous. He knew he had let him down.

"So what brings you by, Brandon?" Harry asked, his voice calm and collected.

"Well," he began, then stopped to clear his throat. "Um, Emerson told me about what happened yesterday."

"Oh, did she?"

"Yeah, and I just wanted to apologize."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "For what? From what Em said, she made you promise not to tell us."

"I shouldn't have promised. It was wrong of us to keep it from you." He sighed and closed his eyes for a second. "When I was at the hospital waiting for information about how she was, I thought about owling you. But then I realized that it meant that I would've had to leave to find an owl. And I didn't want to leave her. I was so scared; I thought she-"

"You thought she what?" Harry asked, his voice still calm but with a definite edge behind it now.

Brandon looked up. "I thought she was dying. And once the nurse talked to me, I realized that she could have. If I hadn't found her when I did, she could have died."

"And yet you didn't feel that her mother or I needed to have that information?"

He hung his head, feeling horrified. Thinking about it like that made his actions seem so much worse. He didn't blame Harry or Hermione for being angry.

"Did you already know that she was pregnant when you went to see her?" Emerson's father asked sharply.

"No, sir, I didn't," he answered quickly. "She'd written to me that she hadn't been feeling well but I didn't connect the dots. When the nurse said that Em had lost the baby, I had no idea what she was talking about. Em hadn't had a chance to tell me, because everything happened so fast. One minute I was there and the next we were at the hospital and the Healers had taken her away. I didn't know." He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. "She said she couldn't bear to write it in a letter, that she'd felt she needed to tell me in person. She was going to tell me that night."

Harry stared at him for a long minute and Brandon felt pinned to his chair by the emerald gaze. Finally, the older man looked away and stood up. He walked to his window and looked out at the immaculate green lawns of Puddlemere United.

"Do you remember the conversation we had on Boxing Day last year?"

Brandon started to nod before realizing that Harry couldn't see him. "Yes."

"And what was the one thing I asked of you?"

He closed his eyes. "That I not hurt her."

Emerson's father turned around. "I don't doubt that you love my daughter, Brandon. But you're not the only one who does. Do not ever forget that." He paused for few seconds. "I know that the pregnancy was an accident and I would never have judged her or you. I probably wouldn't have been able to help being disappointed in you both, but I would not have judged you. What right would I have had? I was twenty-six years old and unmarried when she was born, not much older than you are right now. If I had had a choice, the chances that I would've chosen to be the single father of an infant are slim to none. But if I could live my life over again, I wouldn't change a damn thing about that part. She was the best thing in my life and I wouldn't be the man I am today if not for that baby."

Brandon sat open-mouthed, staring. He had never heard Harry Potter sound so vulnerable before. The more he listened, the more he admired this man. And the more certain he was that he'd done the right thing in coming here.

"I can't live her life for her or tell her what to do. Not anymore. She is an adult and her choices are her own. But that doesn't mean her mother and I don't still care about her or worry. Just like I'm sure Oliver and Katie still care and worry about you and Andrew. That's what parents do and that aspect of it never goes away regardless of how grown-up our children become." He fixed Brandon with a look that managed to be auspicious and menacing all at the same time. "Do not make me regret trusting you with her, Brandon."

"Yes, sir," he replied, feeling greatly chastised, and yet, relieved. Staring at his hands on his knees, he struggled not to squirm in anxiety. Perhaps he still had a chance after all. He was still alive and unharmed. He'd come this far; why not go a little further? Why not go all the way? His palms began to sweat but he plunged on. "C-Can I ask you something?"

Harry waved his hand. "Go ahead."

"Um, I-I- wanted to ask- um, well, I-I love your daughter and- and I wanted to-"

"Are you asking for my blessing to marry Emerson?"

Brandon blushed crimson. "Yes, sir. I love her. I would've married her without hesitation if the baby had lived, and I would marry her this instant if she would have me."

Harry stared at him hard for a long minute before nodding. "I believe you."

Brandon exhaled the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "So it's okay?"

"You'll have to ask her mother. Whatever she says goes for me, too. But tell me something." He walked back to his chair and sat down. "What are you going to do about your job?"

He froze. "M-My job?"

"Timon told me he wants to recommend you for the Assistant Head position. He said he'd talking to you about it today."

Brandon suppressed a wry grin. Why was he surprised? Being its savior and all, Harry Potter was probably in on every official secret in the wizarding world. "Yeah, he told me. I just found out about an hour ago. I don't know. I'm leaning towards turning it down."

There was a brief silence. "Come again?"

"It's just- It's... I hate being away from her!" he blurted, feeling himself coloring again. It wasn't everyday that a bloke admitted something like that to his girlfriend's father, but he couldn't help it.

"And if you take the position, it'll mean even more time apart."

"Exactly."

They were quiet for a time before Harry spoke. "Do you want the position?"

Brandon ran a hand slowly through his hair. "Honestly? Yes, I do. It would be a dream come true and much sooner than I'd ever hoped. But I can't accept it if it'll keep me away from Emerson even more than I already am."

"It'll only be a few more months and she'll be back home permanently," Harry pointed out, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Timon said the position starts in January, three months from now." He frowned and pushed up his glasses. "I wonder... look, I'm not making any promises, but what if I could get them to postpone the start date for a few months? Would that work for you?"

Brandon gaped at him. "You would do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, looking perplexed. "My daughter loves you and you're a good man. I've watched you grow up, and our families are close in so many ways. You have my respect, Brandon, and that is the primary reason why I feel comfortable with the fact that you're dating my daughter."

Feeling humbled and dumb, Brandon could only stammer his appreciation and profound gratitude. Harry Potter respected him, and he knew that if nothing else ever happened in his life, at least he had that one thing.

"You won't regret it, sir."

"Enough with the sir crap. Call me Harry, will you?"

Brandon laughed nervously as they stood up and shook hands. "Thank you, Harry."

"Don't go making wedding plans yet. You still need to get Hermione's permission and she's kind of pissed off at you right now."

His euphoria ebbed a notch. "Oh."

Harry grinned. "Just give her a little time to cool down, all right?"

"Okay. Thank you, Si-, um, Harry. I've taken enough of your time." He nodded once, hesitated, smiled nervously and hurried out before the other man could decide that he didn't respect him after all, and over his dead body would Emerson marry him. Only when the doors of the lift had closed before him did Brandon let out a shaky breath as he slumped against the plush, burgundy wall. And then the magnitude of what had just transpired started to dawn on him and he began to grin so hard that his jaws ached.

"I take it the meeting went well?" Alice asked when he reached the front desk.

In lieu of an answer, Brandon leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. She laughed with delight and he waved cheerily, bounded to the Apparation spot and concentrated. Upon arriving in his flat, he let out a whoop of sheer joy and pumped his fist in the air, his heart pounding inside his chest as if trying to jump out.

His whole life seemed laid out before him, just ready for the taking. He had the job of his dreams waiting for him to embrace, the trust of his superiors and the respect of the greatest man his world had seen in many generations. That was more than most people could ever hope for, but his blessings didn't quite end there. Because above all those, he had the love of the woman who held his heart. Everything else would be nothing at all if he didn't have her, but he did.

And as long as he had her, he had the whole world.

Sure, he still needed to get her mother's permission and Dr. Granger was very formidable in her own right. But he was confident that she would approve and then all that would remain would be to propose to Emerson. They'd talked about their future, and he wasn't at all scared about this step. He had never been more certain of anything in his entire life than that he wanted to spend his life with this woman.

What a long way he had come, though! Seven years spent languishing in love, pining after her, cursing himself for his cowardice, right beside her but yet, so far away. And now he had her, forever, he hoped.

All that was left to do was ask.

********
TBC
********

20. XX

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!

21. Epilogue

Author's Note: Here is the very last of what was begun with "Safe in Harbor" and continued in "Rubber Chickens and Cake", and "Above It All". I must say that I certainly never envisioned writing something this long and connected when I began scribbling SIH. But it has been a very fun and enjoyable journey and has made me discover some things about myself, (that I love to write! Who woulda thunk it?) and I thank you all for sticking with me for the ride.

I very much appreciate all your comments, encouragement and suggestions. This epilogue ties up the whole series and there will be no more of these characters. Of course Harry and Hermione (or any of the other HP characters) are not mine, so the above statement doesn't apply to them. I'm not planning to write any more fanfic this year, but who knows? Something might jump to mind and refuse to leave me alone until I jot it down. For now, I'm hunkering down with GOF and then OOTP, while the days steadily tick down to HBP. I tell you, my eagerness for book six is almost obscene, lol.

Profuse thanks and a thousand hugs to the wonderful Lissanne, who is an incredible beta and friend. Thank you so much for everything . You are wonderful and I love ya! *glomps*

Your comments would be appreciated once again, and thanks a great bunch! Enjoy and so long...

Epilogue

They were married on a bright, sunny April day, on the top of the slope that led down to beautiful Lake Louise. All the guests would marvel for years to come about the beauty of the wedding locale, about the towering snow-covered peaks of the mountain and glacier. The lush greenness bordering the lake and peaks was blanketed luxuriously with vivid, multi-colored wildflowers, newly awoken from their winter's sleep. They lent a freshness and vibrancy to the proceedings that nothing man-made, whether by Muggle or by magic, could ever have contributed.

And how could they forget the breathtaking turquoise waters of the magnificent lake itself? Truly, a more captivating place on Earth had yet to be encountered.

If it were any other couple, they would likely have run the risk of being overshadowed by the grandeur of the surroundings. But in this case, even more than the beauty of the location, the guests spoke of the radiant young couple, so blissfully in love. Being the famous children of famous parents, the danger was high for the event to be overwhelmed with materialism, but Emerson and Brandon had sworn very early in their planning not to let that happen.

"I will be damned if my wedding gets turned into some kind of stage production," she'd vowed, green eyes shining with steely determination.

They had succeeded admirably in that regard and no damnation would be forthcoming, that was for certain. Everything, right down to their attire, was simple and understated. Indeed, those in the know bemoaned the lost opportunity to showcase the very latest in wedding finery, even as they grudgingly admitted that the couple was undeniably radiant in their choices.

At first glance, their attire was deceptively informal but even then, a quiet elegance shone through. Brandon was dressed in crisp tan slacks and a lightweight white v-neck tunic. If one looked closely, intricate silver embroidery could be detected, phoenixes and mysterious star burst patterns elegantly sewn into the fabric. It had been a gift to him from Emerson's Cherokee grandmother, and when he'd received it, he had looked at his fiancée and known instantly that it was what he wanted to be married in.

Em had had the exact same sentiment, and was even more positive when she saw the matching white dress that her Maman had made. The dress was a simple, spaghetti strap Empire waist of the same lightweight material as Brandon's tunic. It fell in a gentle a-line skirt to the floor and was covered with the intricate yet subtle silver embroidery of the Cherokee Nation.

On her wedding day, no fancy coiffure or accessories could be found on her head. Rather, her long, ebony hair tumbled in loose, luxurious waves about her shoulders, jumping and dancing in the slight breeze. She wore next to no makeup, her happiness being more than enough to grant her features a glow that needed no enhancement, and her emerald eyes shone with joy and adoration. A beautiful diamond and pearl necklace encircled her neck, while matching earrings dangled daintily from her ears. She carried a bouquet of the same wildflowers that carpeted the fields around them, causing more than one patron to comment in hushed tones about how one with nature, how goddess-like she appeared.

How perfectly they belonged, to each other and to this place!

Her father cried when he placed her hand in the groom's, but then he clasped the joined hands in both of his and smiled through his tears.

The young man, looking overcome, swallowed hard and said, "Thank you, sir."

"What have I told you about the sir thing?" Harry Potter said gruffly. "Call me Dad."

And the bride wept.

Actually, there was not a dry eye to be found in the vicinity, though some loud protestations of that claim would surely be voiced by a handful or two of the young men in attendance.

Following the brief but poignant ceremony, they were all transported to Ballynore Estate via specially-designed Portkeys that turned into souvenirs after that single use. No expense was spared for that part as the guests feasted on a scrumptious and varied menu, while beautiful live music was played in the background. After dessert and a series of emotional, heartfelt speeches, the band charged headlong into more rocking fare and the reception lasted long into the night, as everybody got down and boogied, all self-consciousness be damned.

Emerson and Brandon slipped away during a particularly raucous number and took a Portkey back to what they thought of as "their" cabin. There they discovered a fantastic surprise -- it really was their cabin! Unbeknownst to them, their grandparents had collaborated to purchase the Lake Louise property as a gift to the young couple. How did they take it? Let's just say that anybody peeking through those windows that night would've wondered at the sanity of its occupants.

Upon returning to Britain after their honeymoon, the newlyweds purchased a beautiful estate in the Upper Woodford Valley of County Wiltshire, where they settled into married life. Actually, the first few years of their marriage was mainly of the "Hi. Love you. Bye." variety as they both bustled about with their careers -- he as Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and she as a rising star in the field of Magical Zoology, as well as in Muggle Veterinary Medicine. They joked that their two year long-distance romance had merely been practice for their everyday life together.

But they were very dedicated to their relationship and madly in love with each other. They made a point to go away to their cabin on Lake Louise every few months, just the two of them, to recharge and reconnect. And the time they spent with their families, growing and strengthening in that love and support, was invaluable in its own way. Thankfully, by their fourth anniversary things slowed down somewhat; which was just as well because Emerson became pregnant that year. Needless to say, they were both beside themselves with joy and their son was received with open arms and many happy tears.

He was the spitting image of his father, the same thick and shiny brown hair, the same nose and mouth... but he had his mother's eyes. They named him Evan Christopher, for his great-grandmother, Lily Evans, whom he (like his mother and famous grandfather) would never know but from whom he had inherited his emerald eyes. Evan was the pride of their life, the apple of their eye and was doted on by his adoring family. Being the first grandchild of both the Woodhaven and Ballynore households, he was showered with love and attention, and as any child will in such ideal surroundings, he thrived. Evan was vibrant and outgoing, full of energy and laughter and he enjoyed four years as the center of attention before the time inevitably came to share the limelight.

That was when his sister, Bethany Jane, arrived, a beautiful child who had also been gifted with the Potter eyes. Bethany had the kind of photogenic presence that made perfect strangers pause to compliment the young parents on their adorable baby, who gurgled and cooed as if in agreement.

"She's my sister," Evan would contribute proudly.

"Yes, I can see that. And aren't you the handsome lad yourself!"

"I hope so," Evan replied, to hearty laughter.

Although friendly, affectionate and blessed with a smile that could light up any room, young Miss Wood was quite a spitfire from the very beginning. Her Gramma Hermione was fond of saying that Bethany had been born knowing exactly who she was. Indeed, a handful of hapless individuals who made the mistake of calling her "Beth" found themselves fixed with a disdainful emerald gaze and informed, in no uncertain terms, that "My name is Bethany." The chastised adult would apologize profusely and at the first chance would exclaim to the young parents over their sassy little daughter and are you sure she's only three?

"Erm, yeah, I'm pretty sure she's three," Emerson would say, looking amused.

"Going on twenty. Takes after her Mum, that one," Brandon would add, grinning proudly at his raven-haired daughter, before turning to his wife. She would stick out her tongue at him and wink, whereupon he gave her a well-practiced look and a wink in return. She would blush and excuse herself, a few moments later he would do the same, and within a minute or two, they would just happen to bump into each other in some room and fancy meeting you here, Mrs. Wood.

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Wood. What a coincidence. It unhooks in the front."

"Ah, yes. But what's this... no knickers, Mrs. Wood? Tsk, tsk."

"I'm a very, very bad woman, Mr. Wood. Oh, do that again."

"Gladly, my woman, my wife, my love."

They are quite happy, you see. And what more could possibly be hoped for than that?

*******

Professor Ben Potter went on to become a bestselling author, with his "What in the Word!" book series topping the lists in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. On one of his worldwide promotional tours, he met the woman who would become his wife, a petite Jamaican woman with a personality that more than made up for her diminutive size. Camille Potter was intelligent and articulate, a perfect match for her well-spoken husband.

At the age of twenty-seven years, Ben was offered the position of Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts, which he accepted. A year later, Camille joined him on staff as the teacher for Muggle Studies. They are both extremely well-liked and respected by their colleagues and their students.

Ben and Camille live in Hogsmeade with their sons Isaac, Liam and Atticus.

******

Luke Potter was the only one of his family not to immediately go on to higher education upon graduating Hogwarts. Instead, he became the drummer in a hard rock band called Anime At Hand, and toured the world raising hell in wizarding and Muggle establishments alike. After a few years, he decided to move on, finally accepting one of the many professional Quidditch offers that had been poured on him during his last year at school. During a brutal, storm-ridden match against the Pride of Portree, one of his Bludgers knocked a Portree Chaser off her broom, she gave him the finger and Budget was instantly smitten. He courted the feisty black-haired and blue-eyed Irish Chaser, using everything within that made him who he was, and it wasn't long before Allyson McCormick fell in love with him, too.

After all, who can resist Budget?

Less than a month before his wedding, Luke helped lead England to victory over France in the Quidditch World Cup. He and Allyson were married at the same stadium where the victory had taken place, and less than a year later, they had a son, Dylan. Finding himself increasingly intrigued by the workings of a Quidditch organization, Luke finally took the University route and earned a degree in Quidditch Management. He rose quickly through the ranks of Puddlemere United, the company that his father had successfully co-managed for more than thirty years.

Luke and Allyson live in the Scottish Highlands with their sons Dylan, Gavin, and Nolan and their daughter, Meghan.

*********

Davina Potter graduated Hogwarts having successfully established a contemporary program of the Arts at the institution. She went on to full-time study at the Royal Ballet School before being admitted to the prestigious Paris Opera Ballet School, the oldest dance school in the western world. Vina thrived there, quickly becoming one of their principal dancers in numerous stage productions, before being appointed to a teaching position at the school.

While in Paris, she met and fell in love with Jéan-Marc Roche, a Belgian instructor at the Sorbonne who was fifteen years her senior. Against the disapproval of her parents, who thought he was too old for her, she continued dating Jéan-Marc. He must have truly loved her because he took a sabbatical from his job to give her parents a chance to get to know him. The honest and selfless gesture impressed Harry and Hermione and two years later, Davina and Jéan-Marc were married, with their blessing.

The couple maintain a home in Paris with their daughter, Mallory, but visit Ballynore regularly.

*********

To say that Harry and Hermione Potter are happy would be the understatement of the century.

Both of them find themselves as busy as ever because they both still hold prominent positions in their respective careers, he with Puddlemere United and she with St. Mungo's. But now, instead of just the four boisterous children, there are additionally two sons-in-law, two daughters-in-law and ten wonderful grandchildren.

Gatherings at Ballynore are surprisingly frequent, considering the families are so far flung, but neither Harry nor Hermione are complaining. The very best times are when everyone is present and the venerable estate has never seemed more like a home than it does when the loud and happy children are underfoot, their variously colored heads bobbing all over in carefree chatter, while their parents alternately tut in disapproval and beam with pride. The level of love between them all is truly heartwarming, and more than once, Harry and Hermione have been reduced to wiping away tears of happiness at how wonderfully life had turned out.

Yes, indeed... to say that Harry and Hermione are happy would be quite the vastest of understatements. Is this happily ever after, though? Could this be it? Not quite, no. Because, sad to say, there is no such thing.

But if, by some blessed twist of fate, happily ever after does exist, this was as close to it as one could possibly get.

And wherever that closest place to happily ever after is situated, Harry and Hermione Potter are there...

******
Finis
*****