Emma couldn't repress a grin as she walked back to the castle with her best friend, wet and cold to the bone thanks to the snow.
"Don't know why you did that. I bloody hate snowball fights," Severus grumbled.
"Liar." She shoved him teasingly and he snorted.
"Don't start again. We almost made it to the castle."
Christmas was the best time of the year. With everyone going home, there was no one there to interrupt their happiness.
"You didn't have to stay, you know," he muttered suddenly. "You could've gone home. I'd be fine on my own."
Emma shrugged. "My aunt would've been out for most of the holidays. I'd be bored there. And you'd be bored here. Didn't make much sense to me."
It was a lie. A big, fat lie. Aunt April had told her she could take the full two weeks off, if Emma wanted to come home.
As soon as they entered the warmth of the castle, they used magic to dry themselves off and made their way to the Great Hall.
"Wait here," said Severus, without sitting down. "I'm going to go get your Christmas present."
"Now?" said Emma. "It's not Christmas day yet."
"Yeah, but it's annoying me already. I don't want to keep it until then."
Emma's eyes widened and she called after him, "That doesn't sound like something I'd want to have!"
He threw a smirk over his shoulder before exiting the Great Hall. While he was gone, she tried to guess what he could possibly have gotten her. Something that's annoying him... Something that makes noise? Why would she want something noisy?
By the time he came back, hiding her present behind his back, her curiosity had skyrocketed.
"What is it?" she asked, trying to peer around him.
He hesitated. "I hope you like it. I can always return him if you don't."
Her eyes shot up to meet his. "Him?"
He set it down on the table in front of her. Her jaw dropped. She reached out and slowly pulled the cage closer.
"You got me a new toad," she whispered.
The toad inside stared at her with its beady eyes. He was a little darker in colour than Croak had been, but he was... He was... Perfect.
"Do you like it?"
"I love it, Severus. Thank you," she said as she stuck her finger through the bars to pet him.
"What are you going to call him?"
She thought for a moment. All of a sudden, the toad let out a loud, deep croak, reverberating through the Hall. She grinned. "I think it's been decided. His name is Croak. Croak the Second."
April Moore
25 October 1939 - 5 November 1991
Beloved by family, cherished by friends
Emma laid down the bouquet of crimson roses on Aunt April's grave. The florist had told her they stood for mourning and sorrow, which seemed fitting. She stepped back, staring down at the headstone.
"I miss you, Aunt April," she whispered. "I wish you were here."
She sniffed, pulling her robes tighter around her. It was cold, considering it was almost May.
"Things have been... different, since I was last here. Awkward." She chuckled. "It's my own fault, really. I just never expected him to..."
Sighing, she pushed her hands into her pockets. "Severus asked me out. I know I should be thrilled with that, I know I should have accepted, but I just couldn't. I couldn't. I love him too much. It can't... It can't end well."
She sniffed again, closing her eyes. What would Aunt April say, if she was here? Would she be frustrated with Emma, for turning down the one thing she'd always wanted? Would she be proud, and say that she'd done the right thing?
"Anyway, it's been awkward ever since. We went back to being friends, both pretending like it never happened. But it did. And now it's stuck between us. I don't know how much longer we can keep going like this. I don't know how much longer he can do this."
Her eyes teared up and she rubbed a hand over her face. "I'm losing him all over again, Aunt April. I don't know what to do." She sniffed, her hand over her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks, ending up like little clumps of hail in her neck. "Please tell me what to do."
But her aunt didn't answer her pleas. Emma stood there, trembling in her summer robes, until drops of water broke her out of her thoughts. Rain. She glanced back towards the entrance of the graveyard. Better make it quick.
"I should go. He's waiting. I just wanted to say that I really miss you." She stepped back onto the path. "I'll come back soon."
With a final nod towards the headstone, Emma turned around and walked back the way she'd come. As she approached the graveyard entrance, she found him waiting for her.
"Hey," he said. "Ready to go?"
Emma nodded. "Thank you for coming with me, Severus. It means a lot to me."
He smiled gently down at her, as the rain pattered on their robes. "Of course, Em. Anytime."
Four down, fifteen to go.
With a tired yawn, Emma placed the scroll in her hands on the pile to her right, picking up another from her left-hand side. The third-years had done quite well on their essays so far. It was nice to see they had a firm grasp on the lesson material she'd presented to them. The subject of the essay, current developments in the treatment of poisons, was an important one for those who planned on taking Healing as an elective next year.
A sudden knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts. "Come in!"
Harry shuffled into the office, glancing back over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him. "Can... Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Of course you can. Have a seat," said Emma, already clearing away some of the scrolls to make space. "How can I help you, Harry?"
He rubbed his hands together as he sat down. "It's just... I didn't know who else to talk to."
Emma tilted her head to the side. "About what?"
When he glanced over his shoulder again, she knotted her eyebrows. What is he so nervous about?
"I think... Something bad is happening in the school." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Ron, Hermione and I figured it all out."
Okay... Not what I expected. "What did you figure out, Harry?"
"We know about Fluffy. About what he's guarding."
Fluffy? What in the... She wanted to ask for clarification, to ask who Fluffy was and what Harry thought he was guarding. But confusion took over and all that came out was, "What?"
Harry's eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair. "You don't know, do you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid not. I have no idea what you're talking about. Could you please fill me in?"
He stared at his hands for a few moments and she wasn't sure if he'd want to talk to her about this any longer. But then he said, "Someone bad is in the school. Someone evil."
Emma's mind instantly jumped to the troll. To Harry's jinxed broom, that almost threw him off at an alarming height. To Severus' accusations.
"What makes you say that?"
A few long moments of silence passed, as Emma waited for him to continue. Just when he opened his mouth to speak, a knock on the door made him jump to his feet.
Before she had a chance to respond, the door swung open. A man and a woman, both a few years younger than Emma, stepped inside. "Emma Moore?"
She stood up, her hands resting on her desk. "Yes, that's me. What's this about?"
"We're from the auror department. We'd like to talk to you about your aunt, if you have a moment?"
Emma's eyes widened. "Yes... Yes, of course." She turned to Harry. "I'm so sorry, Harry, can we pick this up later?"
The boy nodded, before rushing off past the two adults. Emma gestured for them to take a seat, levitating another chair towards the desk.
The man, a skinny-looking guy with a tattooed dragon head peeking out from under his sleeve, sat down first. The red-haired, unusually muscled woman followed after shutting the door behind Harry. She was the one to take a notebook and quill out of her pocket.
"I've not had a visit from the Ministry before. Does that mean you found something?"
The man smiled mysteriously. "We're working on it. My name is Franklin Sweetleaf, this here is Macey Briggs. We're just here to ask you some questions. Fill in some blanks, hopefully."
"Of course. I'll help in any way I can," she said, though unable to force down the disappointment.
The red-headed woman, Briggs, took over. "When did you last see Auror Moore?"
"Er..." She closed her eyes, thinking. "That must've been... June or July last year. Early July, I reckon. I came here towards the end of August and I haven't seen her since, nor for at least a month before that. We wrote to each other in the meantime, though."
"Was it normal for you to go so long without seeing each other?"
"Yes, actually." Emma shrugged. "We both led pretty busy lives."
"Did she ever tell you about her work?" Sweetleaf asked.
Emma frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean. I know what she did of course, but..."
"Her cases. Did she talk to you about her cases?"
"No, never." Her eyes flicked between the two aurors. "She wasn't allowed to."
Briggs leaned forward. "We know she wasn't allowed to, but she can't exactly get in trouble for it anymore, Miss Moore. If you know anything about her latest case, anything at all, you need to tell us. You want us to figure out who killed your aunt, don't you?"
Emma's jaw dropped. "Well, of course I do! But my aunt never broke protocol, never. She mentioned in one of her last letters that she was hunting down some dark wizard, but that's all she'd ever say about it."
"And that's all you know?"
"Yes!"
The two aurors shared a glance, which made Emma feel incredibly self-conscious.
"Look, I really do want to know what happened to her. But she took her job, and its confidentiality, very seriously. She's never told me a thing. I'd given up asking years ago."
The aurors looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "Alright," said Sweetleaf, pushing himself up off the chair. "Thank you for your time."
She stared after them as they made their way back to the door. That's it? That's all they came for?
"If it helps," she added as they opened the door, "her final letters were filled with warnings. Unusually so. Nothing specific, but I reckon her sudden worry had something to do with her case."
Another shared look. "Could we see those letters, please?"
"Of course. Give me a moment."
Emma went through the door to her bedroom and grabbed the letters from the cabinet. "Here," she said, passing them to the aurors.
They skimmed through a few of them, before Sweetleaf looked up with a smile. "That's very helpful, Miss, thank you. Would you mind if we held on to these for a bit?"
"If it helps the investigation, my pleasure," said Emma, gesturing for them to keep them. "Just... Could you send them back to me as soon as you're finished with them? They're my aunt's last words to me. I'd hate to lose them."
"As soon as possible, Miss Moore." With a final thanks, the two nodded goodbye and disappeared through the door.
Emma sat down at her desk, a deflated feeling settling in her stomach. All they'd asked about was her aunt's case. Something she couldn't possibly know anything about. They'd come here on a long shot, and she hadn't been able to give them anything of use. One thing was painfully clear: the Ministry had no idea what happened to Aunt April.
Perhaps it was time to do some investigating of her own.