Chapter Six: The Luckiest Witch of All

POV: Emily

Once I had cousins who dreamt of touching foot in England. Their voices rose in excited levels when adults asked them where they planned to go for their gap year after their time in Ilvermorny was done; the adventure tended to vary depending on what risky, adrenaline rush they were on, but the scenery stayed them same. London. They had asked me once where I wanted to go (at least I think they had) and I had said Tokyo. An awkward silence had fallen before one of them said I just had to travel Europe someday. We all knew I lied when I said I would. 

I don't know if they ever made it here, but I did.

The legend of Harry Potter and Voldemort was one the entire Wizardying World knew, but to me, it had been a bedtime story that seemed all too impossible to be true. Yet, it was true. Hogwarts lived and breathed this tale of heroic tragedy that I still could not wrap my head around entirely. Like I needed something else to make me feel out of place.  

The days passed on and I tried my best to adjust to the castle, the lessons, the people, and our evolving magic. Still, nothing was ever dull here and I often found myself out of breath as I tried to keep up with everything happening all at once. 

Which, currently, explains me gasping for air as I climbed on top of my desk.

"Liam!" I shouted, "Liam, put him down!"

Amidst the commotion drowning the Charms classroom, Liam lost all color to his face with every passing second as he held with all his might on to his wand. 

"I don't know how!" he cried. "Help me!"

Professor Horton crashed against another wall as he zoomed up to the ceiling in a swift, sharp yank. At least he was already unconscious. 

How did this happen? 

Well, today was the day we were finally allowed to practice the levitation spell. After a few tries (one try if you were Rose Weasley), everyone seemed to have gotten the hang of the wrist movement and pronunciation of the incantation. All except Liam. After being publicly admonished for his slow pace by Professor Horton, Liam's embarrassment mixed with a surge of anger that ultimately led to an involuntary (or, perhaps, it was voluntary) spurt of magic that sent the professor across the room. 

Scorpius climbed onto my desk, raising his own wand. "I have to fix this."

"Don't!" I pulled his arm down. "You can't get a clear shot. You might end up sending Horton out the window."

"I'll take his wand, then!"

"Are you insane?" Rose hissed at Scorpius, turning from the center of the gawking crowd (some students were especially concerned while the other ones were practically rolling on the floor from laughing too hard). "If you take his wand he'll drop Horton and give him a concussion!"

Al laughed loudly and distinctively from his side of the classroom with the other Slytherins. "The poor bloke already has a concussion, Rosie. Or did you miss when he banged his head on the back wall?"

Liam blinked his terrified eyes from his victim to glare at us. "Can someone just please help me? I don't want to go to Azkaban for murder!"

I almost lost my footing when a cold shiver raced up my spine. I heard an echo in my head that only appeared in nightmares. I grabbed a hold of Scorpius' forearm before I tumbled down. He steadied me without sparing me a look; he was too focused on sparing his cousin from further humiliation (and possible expulsion). 

Before I could let old memories run me down, Nia came rushing in through the classroom door from when she ran off to look for professional help. "McGonagall is coming! Everyone sit down and shut the hell up!"

Not having to be told twice, all Gryffindor and Slytherin First Years sprinted back to their desks as Liam groaned from his isolating stance, still hovering Horton back and forth the classroom.

"I'm taking the fall," Nia murmured to me as I sat back on my place beside her. "I'll tell McGonagall it was all me and Liam just intervened."

Admirable as that was, I said, "I don't see how she can punish him for what just happened. Isn't that why we are here? To learn how to control and use our magic?"

She sighed, tapping her foot impatiently. "You don't know Liam, Em. He's going to take this hit hard. I wouldn't be surprised if he writes his father to beg him to pull him out of Hogwarts. It was like the time we were six and he accidentally set his cat on fire and cried for a week. He swore he would never do magic again and would dedicate his life to breeding chickens in his muggle-farm."

McGonagall entered the classroom and my mind instantly wandered off to nitpick Nia's story. A story about her and Liam at the age of six. One of the many childhood stories they share. As did Rose and Al. They had loads of stories about adventures together, most that included their other relatives. And then those family stories would spur on Liam and Scorpius' own. 

What did I have?

Hazy memories with hazy faces that I was not entirely sure were actually real or figments of my imagination. 

I was alone. That was not a delusion from my part. Still, it did not sting as anyone would expect it to. I have been alone for so long now.

One of my few clear memories proves that....

'No, Emily,' a distant voice scolded. It belonged to a man; a tall man with dark hair, dark eyes, and dark clothes. He was in an office, surrounded by old books and piles of archives scattered on his desk. His face was twisted into a scowl as he pushed aside a little girl with dark hair, green eyes, and a white dress.  'I don't have time for this. Go to your room.'

Even though the man had pushed her in the direction of the door, the little girl disobeyed the orders when her wide, doe-eyed gaze begged for attention, waving the paper clutched in her tiny fist.

'Daddy,' she called. 'I wanna show you what I drew today.'

Her father did not look her way as he opened the left drawer of his desk, pulling out another old book she had often seen him study thousands of times. The Sacred Twenty-Eight. A cherished piece of literature to all pureblood fanatics. '

I told you, I don't have any time!'

'But, Daddy—"

'Rachel," her father shouted, overlooking his daughter to glare at the empty door entrance. 'Rachel, come and get the girl!'

The little girl waved her paper higher, pushing herself up on her toes. 'Daddy, please look. I made it for you.'

'Rachel!' he shouted again.

Three seconds later, a young woman rushed into the office. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear as she looked at the man. 'Yes, Mr. Taylor?'

'Get her out of her, for fucks sake,' he hissed, waving a palm to motion them out. 

'But, Daddy—'

'Come on, Miss Emily,' said Rachel as she scooped the six year old girl into her arms. 

The little girl wailed as her nanny marched them out of her father's office. The door closed with a loud bang behind them, locks nosily being fastened. 

'Highborn ladies like yourself do not cry, Miss Emily,' murmured Rachel as she led them to a room decorated in luscious tones of purple. There were lilac shelves lining the walls, some hosting books and others an impressive collection of dolls.  

'I want my mommy,' the little girl cried. 

Rachel lowered the girl on to the edge of the bed, kneeling down before her. She took her tiny hands, holding them tight as she offered a smile. 'You know your mother is in Tokyo for a week. She had to attend a meeting with the Headmaster of your brother's school, remember?'

'Why did she leave without me?' she asked through her tears. 'I wanted to see Nicky, too.'

Rachel could not help the glint of pity in her eyes when she said, 'You are too young to apparate, Miss Emily. Besides, your mother is not there for pleasantries. Neither is Nicholas. This school is very important for his future. Both your parents and brother have worked hard to keep him enrolled.'

'Daddy wanted to get rid of him,' the little girl sniffled, more fat tears filling her green eyes. 'I heard him. Why doesn't Daddy want Nicky to be with me?'

'Your father is not getting rid of him, Emily,' Rachel said, though she did not bother to use a reassuring tone for something everyone knew was a lie. 'Tokyo is just the best place for Nicholas right now. You know that. He isn't like you. He isn't special and lucky like you.'

'I'm not lucky!' the little girl shouted, pulling her hands away from her nanny's. 

Rachel stood, huffing once with a lack of patience now. 'Play with your dolls until supper time, Miss Emily. I will be back to collect you then.'

The little girl averted her eyes, but nodded obediently. 

Before Rachel could exit the bedroom she said, 'You are very lucky, Emily. So many people would want what you have.'

More tears rolled down the little girl's cheeks. Those other people could have it then because she did not want it.

Pulling her paper on to her lap, her green eyes scanned the drawing she had made. There was a sun, flowers, rainbows, and hearts littering the open space. At the center, there was a little girl standing beside her father, holding his hand. On her other side was her mother, a smile drawn on her face as she held on to Emily's other hand. Behind Emily, with his long arms wrapped around their parents, was her brother. He had the biggest smile of them all. Giant, red letters were woven among the rainbows, spelling out an: I love you, Daddy!

It was her family. All of them drawn in a way Emily knew they will never be. 

'I'm not lucky,' she whispered to herself, blinking once at the paper on her lap.

In that small, quick fragment of time, the drawing changed. The little girl drawn on the parchment was alone. Her smile was gone, replaced by big, fat navy tears.

"Emily!"

I jumped up on my seat, blinking wildly when a hand slapped my back.

"Oi!" hissed Scorpius, giving Al a shove. "That was a little rough, don't you think, Potter?"

Al recoiled, cheeks pink. "Sorry, Em," he said immediately, scratching the back of his head. "I'm so used to getting my cousins' attention that way, I didn't even realize I could have hurt you."

I shook my head, giving him a smile. "All is good." I then flashed my eyes around the classroom, noticing its lack of students. "Where is everyone?"

"After the Headmistress sorted out the whole Horton-Liam fiasco, she ended the lesson early," Scorpius informed. 

"Did Liam get in trouble?"

Al scoffed. "Are you kidding? The lad's got puppy-dog eyes, doesn't he? McGonagall just told him to practice, preferably without an audience."

I laughed, relieved that Liam had not gotten severely reprimanded. I grabbed my Charms book, shoving it into my schoolbag. "That's great. I'm not Rose or anything, but I definitely wouldn't mind risking my safety to help him out a few—"

A warm hand was placed on my shoulder. "Em," Scorpius said carefully, "you don't look well. Are you sure you are all right? Al and me can take you to the Hospital Wing if you want. We are on break now."

I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from telling him that I could not be fixed.

"Yeah, Em," said Al with a huge grin. "Count on us for anything. Even puke if that's the route you think this might be going."

I laughed again, pulling on a smile. "I'm not going to puke, but I'll remember that when flu season comes around. Honestly, though, I'm okay. Thank you."

"Don't be. That's what friends are for," Al declared.

"You are all so amazing. Really."

"Of course we are!" Al smirked now, earning an eye-roll from Scorpius. "Now come on. Let's see if we can find some food in this place. I'm starving!"

"How can you be starving?" Scorpius asked as he took my schoolbag and Al reached for my hand, leading me out of the classroom. "You had an entire feast by yourself for breakfast. Which was three hours ago."

"It's a Weasley family trait, mate," Al said. "You should see my Uncle Ron. No one beats him."

I did not know if the past could heal or change what would become of me, but in that moment, as I was with friends, going to search for the rest, I wanted to believe that maybe it was possible. I did not have anything or anyone here in Britain, but for the first time ever, I think I just might get something of my own. 

And it started with them.