Who: Derek and Emmeline
What: HATING LIFE. Oh, and a super bad idea.
Where: Idk, a bar. Somewhere. Muggle?
When: ...today

It was hard to pinpoint what had pushed her to ask Derek out for drinks, because honestly, the last six months had been more than worthy of a night of getting sloshed. Emmeline didn't actually intend on getting plastered at the quiet pub, but the heavy need to go out and dizzy her ever-thinking mind had hit her hard. She'd dealt with her friends and their constant relationship bumps (wedding, pregnancy, they were all bumps if you asked her) and she wasn't finding herself as insanely jealous as she'd imagined she'd be, so that hadn't been her reasoning.

Well--she hadn't seen Caradoc in weeks.

Oh, that sounded absolutely nutters.

Emmeline lifted her head out of her palms, her elbows pressing hard into the counter of the bar. Looking into the mirror she saw her deathly pale reflection and her eyes skipped away to wander, looking at Derek and the crowd behind her. See---she'd slowly been going insane, and had been seeing Caradoc's face whenever she went out. That was all she could really blame it on, her mental capacity slowly deteriorating, but it had been a few weeks since she'd last spotted him. She should be happy about it, that she actually wasn't going crazy, but her the lack of her mental lapses was once again reminding her that she was never going to see him again.

And there starts the circle of depression on its next cycle through her life.

The bartender slid another pint in front of the miserable pair, and Emmeline's fingertips went to her temples. She wasn't sure if she could handle another one, but if Derek didn't take it, she wouldn't let it go to waste.

Six months seemed an eternity. Six months seemed like the amount it took to blink. Derek had found that the passing of time was nonexistent on some days, but too swift to mark the change of on others. It was difficult to say where he stood, in terms of perspective. Since the day of her death, it was as though he balanced on the tip of a sword, threatening to fall on either side. A complicated balancing act, to be sure, but Derek had always been a dualistic personality. Now, it seemed only more so. Part of him wanted to forget he had ever known Dorcas, but part of him, perhaps a larger part, wanted to keep her, remember her, love her, forever.

In the beginning, there was disbelief. His brain had mourned because it had known that was the right thing to do, but it did not believe that Dorcas was gone. Then the realization had sunken in, and there was violence. Moodiness, bitterness, catatonia, anger. Days had passed where he didn't so much as move. After the first few months, there was little choice but for him to move on. Go to work as though nothing were the matter, talk to his family as though everything would be all right. Smile when he didn't mean it, tell the world that it was hard, but he was making it.

But he wasn't.

Vinny moving in was both a blessing and a burden. Derek knew he had been through the same situation he was dealing with now, and could not have accepted the responsibility of taking him down the same path he had so successfully made it back from. He wasn't stupid enough to think he had been fooling Vinny, but it didn't change the fact that he wanted to make that effort, that he wanted to try. Wallowing in self-pity was not going to bring Dorcas back, and it certainly wasn't going to honor her memory.

Six months wasn't a long time, as it were.

Emmeline Vance was someone to be wary around. It was easy to slip back into that terrible pattern of wallowing and self-pity with her, but she was the only one who knew exactly what it was he was going through. They certainly owed each other quite a bit, and despite the fact that he was not sure they could stand one another in the slightest, they were really the only thing the other person had going for them.

"You're still working?" Derek asked, after some moments of silence, hand automatically reaching for the glass. It could have been water he was drinking, for all the alleviation of pain it was doing. He simply blamed it on his stature and took another swallow.

Emmeline nodded, her fingers running circles against the side of her head as she tried to lull the impending headache. Ah, yes. The library. Some days it was her sanctuary, the next it was the bane of her existence. Maybe if she moved to a wizarding library, things would be better, but the thought of running into someone she knew every day completely drove the point out of her mind. She liked being just another nameless employee that people walked by, that they thought was some university student making her way through school. If her life could be as easy as one of the girls she worked with, Emmeline would give up everything she owned.

She watched Derek drink out of the corner of her eye, frowning unconsciously. Part of her found this whole evening to be counterproductive; if she wanted to feel better, why was she drinking alcohol, which was a depressant, with someone who looked to be a bigger mess than she was? Derek had been a happy, silly person before Dorcas' death, and there wasn't even a shadow of the man she'd barely known before.

Emmeline felt suddenly guilty, then, for bringing him out here with her. There was no way she didn't make him think about those fateful days stuck in the Longbottom's home, and the news that they both received and dealt with there. She dropped her chin to take in a deep breath, ready to push herself off the stool and go home. But---Derek had been there. He'd been the one that had said out loud, for the first time, that Caradoc had loved her. She needed to be reminded of that, and Derek was the only one who could and would.

Rolling her shoulders, she sat up and swiveled her stool toward him, smoothing down her jeans (jeans, she never bloody wore jeans, she felt so plain in anything but a skirt). Emmeline made sure the bartender and any other patrons were out of ear shot, "I got a tip the other day about some dark magic being performed in Liverpool," she said lowly, eyebrows rising. She'd tried investigating herself, but had come to realize she'd need help from the Order.

Not that any of them were actually willing to let her do anything anymore, but maybe Derek could use the extracurricular activity.

Derek was staring through the bottom of his glass, wondering that if he maybe stared hard enough, thought about it long enough, perhaps he could burn some sort of hole right through the bartop. He was startled out of this indulgent reverie when Emmeline mentioned Liverpool.

He treated it cautiously, of course. It could not be denied that he'd already landed himself in St. Mungo's twice in the span of five months, one of those times being inches from death. There was a darker part to him, far more cynical than he had ever let on before Dorcas's passing, that yearned for that sort of end--to go out helping others, and therefore be justified in wanting everything to end. The frightening part was that it wasn't an outrageous thought for a Hit Wizard to have, particularly not one with as fearless and brash as Derek's. Now that he was involved in the Order, that risk simply doubled. And it was entirely possible that the tip off was useless, a trap, or otherwise useless to them. Derek's face was impassive as he took another swig, giving a hard look behind the bar. "What's happening in Liverpool?"

She grabbed the seat of her stool, her heels clipping onto the bar to lock herself in place. It was funny how boring clothes and her hair being pulled into a boring ponytail at her neck could give her better camouflage than anything short of an invisibility cloak could. Working on putting some book returns away, Emmeline overheard a conversation between two men that had ultimately revealed themselves to be death eaters.

Death eaters! Just chit chatting away in a muggle library, thinking that they were smart as hell for finding such a seclusive spot.

"They're trying to collect vanishing cabinets," she said, leaning her elbow into the counter and waving down the bartender for another drink. "Apparently you can have sister cabinets, something like a sure exit to the one you enter, instead of a random placement like the solos."

It was really a good idea, if you thought about it. Emmeline wasn't sure how rare vanishing cabinets were, but the fact that the Order didn't have one placed in all of their homes was what made her think it should be something to be investigated. Who knew how those things could be manipulated? What if you entered through one end, and then never came out? That was a terrifying idea, being stuck in limbo for the rest of your life. Though, if she wanted to be morbid and depressing, she might consider it better than the half-ass life she was living right now.

"They were saying how there's a place in Knockturn Alley with a backroom full of them."

Derek paused to consider this, wrap his Muggle mind around the mechanics of it all. It was disconcerting even after all these years, to think about magic. Derek was never blessed with technical sense, something his engineer father had grudgingly accepted some years back, so the logical aspects of all things magical puzzled him greatly. There were times when he wondered whether You-Know-Who and the other blood-purists had the right idea, that people like Derek really weren't worth a damn to these people. All stereotypes were rooted in fact, after all, what if they were right about him? Did he have a place amongst these people?

But even entertaining the notion made his blood boil. Aside from the fact that Derek despised being thought of as "inferior," it didn't alter the fact that there were Muggleborns and Halfbloods who were as comfortable and adept in this strange world as any other Pureblood. Derek himself was far from a poor wizard, considering his lot in life. This was the sort of behavior that allowed Death Eaters and the like to prey on the weak.

He dropped his head a little, a chuckle that far from conveyed humor escaping his lips, arms crossed and resting on the bartop. "And you think it'd be ace if we went after them, hmm?"

It was her thing to go on missions for the Order and have them go terribly wrong. Emmeline didn't necessarily like that everything she did tended to go haywire, but no one had ever died or had a limb taken off, so. Any mission that ended up with complete survival of the agents was a success in her book. This though, didn't seem like something that would be easy to mess up (not that she messed up, things just...didn't go as planned). All Emmeline wanted to do was see if the vanishing cabinets were actually there, and then after that was figured out, she could relay the rest of the information to the Order and they could have their fun. When...when they weren't busy with their lives outside of the Order of the Phoenix.

There was no way that she was going to bother Frank right now with this. He had a baby due any minute now, and enough worries on his hand as an auror. Then there was Dedalus who was just getting over the shock of a new baby in the works, and Elphias was married and probably still adjusting to having a girl sleeping in his bed, so---everyone else had their issues and things to deal with, while she was stuck in a library, trying to come up with the one ultimate plot of revenge against Lord Voldemort.

Lots of daydreams of the dark wizard falling to a heap on the ground, but they were of course just daydreams. He'd gotten the love of her life killed, she was allowed to plot his death in as many ways as possible.

Emmeline shrugged, slipping off the stool to start her exit as her (last) drink came along. "Everyone else is busy making babies and having lives, so," she took a long drink, pushing her hair out of her face as she turned to stare at Derek from the side. He looked like shit, but she wasn't one to talk. "Yeah. It would be pretty ace."

He laughed once more, perhaps a bit condescendingly, and tossed back more of the glass, still shaking his head. "You think that's a good idea. Chasing after some 'tip-off' you have no solid evidence of."

Last year, Derek had more than established his place on the squad as someone who was rash and stupid and very willing to place himself in needless danger, particularly if it meant that his sacrifices would ultimately lead to successes for others. It was a peculiar nature to possess in a job such as he had, but he was far from willing to throw himself at the lions constantly. This, though, proved deadly useful during moments where one would erroneously think fighting to survive was the correct choice. It had been his ultimate fortune that not only did everyone survive, but he himself had never perished. He knew nothing about what Emmeline was like prior to Caradoc leaving, he honestly didn't. Derek was sure that they'd get along less than they did now, and he wasn't entirely sure they'd want anything to do with one another, but it was clear she was a radically different person these days. Looking at the war had done to kids like Emmeline, to people like Dorcas, to people like him made him sick.

That unnerved him. Never once, in all this time since Dorcas had left him, had he felt angry for himself, and what had happened to him. All this while, it had been the fact that Dorcas had left him, that her life had been cut short, that she had been handed over by someone who was supposed to put the well-being of the Order before himself.

But maybe he was furious that his own life had been disrupted, too. His hand let go of the pint, afraid that the sudden shock of anger would cause his hand to crack the glass.

"Anyone ever tell you you are one lucky little girl?"

When did the Order ever have a good idea? The only good idea any of them had had in the past two and a half years had been...hm. Emmeline could probably come up with successful missions that she supposed you could call 'good ideas,' but then she was quickly reminded that a bunch of teenagers were running around in the dark, trying to fight dark wizards who did not give a damn who they were attacking and killing. Yes, that was a brilliant idea, Dumbledore! She should name her first born child after the man, seeing as his ingenious visions of triumph had completely ruined her life.

He'd also probably saved her life a multitude of times, so maybe they were even.

Emmeline leaned forward against the bar, tilting her head to the side to examine Derek some more. She had no reason to want his company other than he'd been in the Longbottom house with her, if she was honest. Would she have reached out to him if he'd been somewhere else? Emmeline wasn't exactly sure, but now she felt almost obliged to slump next to him at Order meetings or mutter snide remarks at something said by the other members.

Maybe it was a little sad, having latched onto him like she had, but Derek didn't seem to mind it (but he didn't seem to feel much about anything). Ducking her head to try and catch his eye, an alcohol-induced smirk slid across her face, "I'm not a little girl, Dobbs."

Pulling back up to stand straight, Emmeline took a deep breath. 'Lucky' wasn't something she'd describe herself as, but she supposed from certain angles she could be perceived to be. That whole 'staying alive' bit might convince others. "I'm going to do it anyway, so it's up to you if you want to help."

"Of course you are," he sighed, pushing the now-empty glass away and debating signaling the bartender for another one. Given how much he'd already had tonight, it probably wasn't the greatest idea, but he honestly felt no different. Instead, he merely shrugged, eying the girl before waving off the barkeep.

He swung around to face her, expression bored and slightly exasperated, feeling quite the same, but unwilling to deny that spark, that desire to do something really, extremely stupid. And Derek really wouldn't leave Emmeline to do something like that without a little supervising assistance. That really would be poor judgment in this cockamamie mission he could see was already forming in her head.

His head stopped shaking, realizing what little good it was doing, but the look he gave her was wildly unenthusiastic. "I'll help, purely because I don't want anyone from the team giving me flack about having to rescue you when you get kidnapped or maimed again, and say I didn't do a thing to stop it."

Of course, Derek was also positive the caustic attitude was one she fully appreciated.

Emmeline realized for the first time that this would be the first mission she pursued without Caradoc being able to swoop in and save the day. Of course there had been times when things went smoothly and there were no worries, but those weren't the ones your remembered or talked about. Who really wanted details about a stake out that went absolutely as planned? Emmeline didn't, that was for sure.

"That's good to hear," she said with a tights smile tugging down her shirt. She was really not getting used to muggle clothing in the slightest, not the current fashion trends, anyway. Emmeline had always been fine with plain shirts and plain skirts, but everything the kids were wearing at the library was like neon or too tight or too loose and she believed they all looked out of their minds. She had to remind herself that they would find wearing robes absolutely insane, but Emmeline knew which society had the better grasp on fashion.

Wow. Her life was so dull and boring that she was actually trying to fit in with a crowd of muggle university students who were probably too high on illegal substances to notice her. Lovely.

"Buck up, Dobbs," Emmeline said with an amused smile at his seemingly absolute dread about the mission. She tapped his cheek lightly, "It'll be fun."