“Did you know that in the States, there’s this big ol’ ceremony when you finish grade seven---er, twelve, or…something, whatever,” Brad Madley shook his head as his trunk bounced down the steps of the Ravenclaw tower. In all her years of knowing him, Emmeline was quite positive she’d never seen him levitate his trunk down the steps like the rest of the fully legal wizards in their dorm, but, at least it gave people a warning that he was on his way.

Brad chucked his trunk the best he could into the common room, making Anneliese and Juliet jump and glare. Emmeline smiled lightly and placed her trunk down by Anneliese’s, and leaned against the wall to let Ellie pass and take in the on goings. The entire Ravenclaw class of 1979 was milling around the common room, give or take one or two, and it was certainly a sight. It would probably be the last time they were all together like this, and Emmeline couldn’t help the slight pang in her chest.

“We should have our own ceremony,” Ellie said with a sagely nod, “then we could have a party.”

“Parties are always good!” Brad agreed, clapping Gilbert on the shoulder. The boy jumped about a meter, always nervous and twitchy, but grinned and nodded at the idea.

“We’ve got Anneliese’s wedding in July,” Juliet noted, causing the other girl to blush. Emmeline had to force a grin; she’d been trying very hard not to remind herself that her friend was marrying a death eater and she could do absolutely nothing about it.

The sound of Ashley Smethwyck stubbing her toes on her trunk bounced down the stairwell, and Emmeline and Ellie moved away in time for the trunk to crash down, its contents spilling to the ground.

“SORRY!” Ashley shrieked dashing down and quickly throwing her belongings back into the trunk. Elphias bent down to retrieve an empty potion vial and dropped it quickly—

“Girls use potions for that?!” he blurted before he could stop himself, and all the girls in the common room shrieked in horror. Emmeline quickly summoned the vial before Ashley could have an asthma attack, and sent Elphias a glare (one mirrored by all the other females in the room).

“See, you’ve got to work on that brain to mouth filter, mate,” Brad said with a smirk and shake of his head.

“As if you’re so good at that,” Ellie cracked, but she was grinning and pushed Brad playfully into the couch. A dramatic spin and sigh later, he was lying across it, sprawled as if he’d just been killed in a Shakespearean play.

“Aw…Brad died?” Dedalus had emerged from his room, his trunk smoothly floating behind him as he closed the door one final time. Even though his days as Head Boy were over, Emmeline was quite certain he’d never looked as stately, “And I missed it?”

“I’ll be glad to put on an encore,” Brad offered, his upper half slowly slipping off the couch. Anneliese had come to the back of the couch to look over at him, and with a wink toward Emmeline she gave Brad’s legs a slight push and sent him to the floor.

“Not fair!” but he was laughing, and they were all laughing, even Juliet though it was only after Gilbert hurried up from his seat to help Brad off the floor as if he’d really been hurt. Emmeline sat on her trunk leaning back against the stone wall, just enjoying the sight and the feeling of being a student, because they were done, it was over, Hogwarts was a thing of the past and now they had to venture out into the real world, which was bloody, fucking terrified.

So maybe if she could capture this image of the people she’d grown up with and watched grow up, the people she’d fought with, cried with, snogged, protected, and lived with, maybe the rest of her life wouldn’t be so bad. She could live in this moment forever, and if she had it to go back to when times of trouble threatened, then she’d make it.

“No trace of him,” Moody said with a shake of the head. Emmeline’s jaw tightened. “They really did their job, the place is leveled.”

“But, he’s not dead,” James Potter’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it was stern, he wanted the answer. The Auror looked over to the man, Emmeline’s eyes never leaving Moody, and shook his head.

“No, we don’t know if he is or not, but Dearborn’s completely vanished. Could’ve been blown to smi---“

“That’s enough,” Frank Longbottom interrupted. Moody looked obviously taken aback that one of them had actually interrupted him, but he closed his mouth and nodded, sending Dumbledore a look before disapparating with a loud crack. The Order had suffered too many losses to be simply told what had gone on, as if it was just another round of business. They had a right to be upset, they had a right to be angry, and they had a right to grieve.

Emmeline’s eyes traveled around the Order, taking in the faces of the surviving members. Everyone looked as if they’d been run over by a hippogriff, a hoard of them, two million…just, trampled and beaten, completely lost and unsure of what to do next. Sirius got up first, stalking up the stairs, and then Pettigrew muttered an excuse and disapparated, and slowly the Order began to trickle out of their headquarters. They would plan tomorrow, they would strategize tomorrow, they would figure out what they needed to get done tomorrow, but tonight was to mourn.

She remained seated at the kitchen table, shaking her head when Remus asked her if she was coming, mumbling something about wanting to check the wards. He seemed to understand that her words were only a cover and dropped a kiss to her forehead before he too disappeared. The silence that had fallen over the house was deafening—she’d always hated that saying, but finally understood it now, and a few tears spilled from her eyes. The rest of the Order would go home and be sad, and think about how it could have been them, how they were slowly losing this seemingly endless war, but Emmeline knew she was the only one that would be thinking about Caradoc---not Dearborn, Caradoc.

All her life, she’d known him all her life and he was gone. Just—the fucking bastard, it was typical of him, just to---do what would piss off everyone the most. To just leave and---more tears fell because she didn’t even get to say goodbye, though she couldn’t have possibly known. She could have said something, he’d been stuck at the Order house for weeks when they’d figured out he was a spy---a bloody spy. Emmeline tried to hold back the slight sob that was bubbling up her throat but couldn’t; all this time, hadn’t she known that he wasn’t just the jackass he made himself out to be? Of course he was a jackass, but she’d always---there had always been, at the end of the day, some reason to trust him, some reason that made her believe him and follow his words without a doubt.

And it was weird, wasn’t it---they had been friendly, they had joked around a lot, they had even snogged once in an empty corridor, but it would be weird when…when Juliet found out, when the aurors informed her that her brother was gone, it almost felt strange to be the one doing the comforting in the situation. Emmeline didn’t want to feel like this, but the loss was overwhelming, like she’d lost her brother, her friend, her…her…she didn’t know what Caradoc Dearborn had been to her, but now it was gone, he was gone, and the sadness had consumed her and she buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably until a pair of hands pulled her shoulders up from the slouched position against the kitchen table.

“Hey, you know I hate seeing pretty girls cry,” Sirius Black said with a strained voice. Emmeline’s tears didn’t stop but she did catch his eye; she knew Sirius hadn’t trusted Caradoc, that he almost despised him, but the former Slytherin coming out as a spy---it changed things. Maybe not completely, but there was a respect there, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“He’s gone,” she moaned miserably, wanting to be able to get up and move on, but she simply couldn’t, and Sirius wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. Emmeline felt so stupid for crying in front of him, and the thought of Caradoc marking a tally on the board because he’d made her feel stupid again crossed her mind, and Emmeline let out another pain filled groan.

“I. Hate. You.”

Caradoc Dearborn was a good however many centimeters taller than her, but Emmeline’s fists pressed hard against her non-existent hips as she glared up at him, his smug, stupid face grinning stupidly down at her. Just because he’d gone off to Hogwarts didn’t mean he knew everything, he was still very stupid.

“That’s why you and Juliet follow me everywhere, right?” he asked, that stupid grin on his face. Emmeline’s mouth flapped a few times and was about to retort that they were simply trying to catch him doing something stupid because a stupid boy like Caradoc must do stupid things all the time, when their stare down was interrupted by screaming.

Not pain-filled, ‘oh-I’m-about-to-die,’ screaming, but screaming of someone being chased and trying not to laugh about it. James Potter skidded into the room and made a quick dash around the table as Sirius Black came tearing after him, a punch ladle in his hand a wicked grin on his face.

“MY LADLE OF DEATH SHALL CONSUME YOU!” Black shouted, and Potter slid under the table, almost knocking Emmeline’s feet out from under her. Caradoc stuck a foot out so that the boy tripped, and Black (who’d gone under the table after him) managed to lunge and capture the boy.

“CURSE YOU AND YOUR LADLE OF DEATH!” Potter shrieked through his gales of laughter as Black stuck the ladle down the back of his dress robes, “ITS COLLLLLLLLLLLD!”

Frank Longbottom slipped into the room, grinning madly at the sight. Emmeline rolled her eyes at the sight of her cousin; she should’ve known he’d be friends with these hooligans. Hopefully when she got to Hogwarts, she’d stay far, far away from these Neanderthals.

“Frank! Pin his arms!” Black commanded, and Frank hesitated for maybe a millisecond before helping push Potter onto his back. Emmeline huffed loudly, just so that they could know how immature they were being and stalked out of the room (followed by a chorus of ‘huffs’ from the idiot boys). If she could find Juliet, she’d make it through this party, and Emmeline had almost made it to the next room (their parents were in the ballroom, far, far away from the insanity of their children) when Caradoc swept in front of her.

“Just admit it, you fancy me!”

Emmeline’s face burned a deep red and she poked a stiff finger into his chest, “How on earth could I fancy such an obnoxious, annoying---ugly toerag like you?”

“Oy,” Caradoc said, eyebrows going high as they moved into the next room, “even you can’t honestly say I’m ugly, that is simply not fact.”

Her cheeks puffed and instead of giving him more conversation sat hard down onto the couch next to Kalista Rosier, who eyed her dangerously. Emmeline sent her an equally intimidating glare and the girls went back to sitting and staring off at the opposite wall. Of course, though, Caradoc made his way into her line of sight again, and Emmeline wanted to chuck a lamp at him. He struck up a conversation with Evan Rosier, and after a moment both turned their heads to look in Emmeline’s direction. And—now Caradoc was pointing at her, and she wanted to scream.

“Is Caradoc Dearborn pointing at me?” Kalista barely said, and Emmeline could see a blush growing up her cheeks. Oh, perfect.

“Yes he is, I think you should go and ask him for a dance,” Emmeline said, and with a not so appropriate nudge, pushed Kalista in the direction of her brother and Caradoc. The girl grinned at Caradoc’s utterly confused expression and quickly made her way through the gaggle of girls (Miranda Dodderidge should not be allowed out of her house with such a big mouth) and into the next room, which was a lot quieter than the previous two.

“C’mon, Avery, just one little kiss,” Bertram Aubrey not so suavely requested of Vivica Avery, who was sitting on the very end of the couch, arms and legs so tightly crossed that Emmeline was sure it would take a lot of effort to peel them apart. Bertram looked up at her entrance and glared, slumping back into the couch, causing the people on the other couch, Juliet and---who was that, oh, Cecilia Hooke---to giggle.

Vivica miraculously untwined her legs and stormed out, making Bertram groan and follow after her; honestly, boys were absolutely ridiculous, and Emmeline was about to state this fact aloud when an arm slid around her shoulder.

“Aw, I thought I’d lost you!”

“Caradoc, you dolt, don’t touch her; she’ll have to go to St. Mungo’s for an evaluation,” Juliet snapped at her brother, who simply tightened his grip around Emmeline’s shoulders. Cecilia giggled loudly, burying her face behind her hands, and Emmeline sent a dagger-like glare at the girl. She tried to pull away, but the tornado that was BlackandPotter raced through, screaming something about nargles and skin-eating bacteria. Caradoc took this moment to drag her into the hallway as Frank ran past to catch up with the two bigger idiots, and he all but threw her into a nearby broom closet.

“I. Hate. You,” Emmeline repeated from earlier, and once again, Caradoc scoffed.

“Just admit it, Vance, you fancy me.” His smug expression made Emmeline want to send one of the coat hangers through his eye, but she managed to contain her anger and simply balled her fists again. “Get it over with.”

“I will never admit to fancying you,” she finally said, hoping that it was good enough to get her off his case. Even if she did fancy him (which she didn’t, not even a little bit), she would never in a million and five years admit it, especially not to Caradoc himself.

Apparently this was acceptable as Caradoc grinned, “Now that’s a good girl,” and swept down and pressed a kiss to her lips before sweeping out of the broom closet. Emmeline stood, dumbfounded beyond comprehension, and shut the door of the broom closet---only to scream at the top of her lungs.

“James! I think there’s a banshee in this closet!” she heard Black roar from the hallway.