magnolia ~ h. potter

twenty-five

a/n: hey guys! as promised, here's the first chapter of the second part of Emily and Harry's story! I will try and update at least every 5 days but it might take longer cause uni is kicking my butt to space and my motivation to write is shriveling up 🙃  hope you like it and make sure to comment and vote, all ya'll comments always make me laugh/feel better and i really appreciate them!

[CHAPTER 25]

RETROUVAILLES

[  When you were young you used to dream about fires
And scream into the night
To find me standing barefoot at your side ]

____________________

"Exactly how many books do you own?"

There was an almighty thump as Emily dropped the cardboard box she had been carrying at the bottom of the staircase. Kate stepped into the entrance hall from the kitchen, and gave her friend a look.

"Unlike some people, I need books to study and do well in school," she said, stepping over the other cardboard boxes in the hall and reaching Emily.

"Wish I could do magic," Emily muttered darkly, and Kate shook her head.

"You want to anger Mad-Eye?" Kate asked, "We're in a muggle neighbourhood, any use of magic here will let the ministry know where we are immediately,"

Emily didn't reply, but continued to look angry as she shoved the box further into the hallway with her foot. "Did you make some tea?"

"Yup," Kate said, as she stacked one box on another, "Tray's in the kitchen,"

Emily heaved a sigh as she stepped through the door and into the kitchen. The sun was low in the sky, half-hidden behind a thick grey cloud, and the kitchen was bathed in the golden light of a beginning sunset. Kate had laid out two cups of steaming tea and a couple of hastily smeared sandwiches on the countertop, and Emily grabbed one. As she chewed on the bread, she stepped through a small door into the sitting room. 

Over the past two weeks, Emily and Kate had worked hard to empty out her parent's Wendover home. The sitting room was missing almost all of its furniture save for one armchair, which Kate had deemed so old she didn't think it was necessary to move. The wall was covered in an old, yellowing wallpaper with pink and white flowers, some parts whiter from where picture frames had hung for years. On the richly carved mantel of the fireplace was covered in a fine layer of dust, as if it hadn't been cleaned in a month, and there remained one picture frame. It was of a young, strawberry blonde girl with pigtails, holding tightly onto an old piece of parchment, smiling so widely it made Emily smile.

"That was the day I got my letter," came Kate's voice from behind her, and Emily nodded, "My parents were surprised, but so proud. My dad's kept that frame on this mantel piece for as long as I can remember, he always used to polish it,"

Emily looked at her friend, who had come to stand next to her, her eyes filled with tears.

"Kate. . ." Emily said softly, taking her hand.

"It's alright," her friend sniffed, "I'm not really going for long, it's just. . .I've lived here since I was seven, Em, my parents love this house,"

"When this is over, you'll move back in Kate, I promise," Emily said reassuringly.

"If they haven't destroyed it," she muttered.