Alrighty, I guess I'll let you know what happens between them, just , once again, don't hate me too much

“I’m not losing you again, Ems. It’s now or never,” George said seriously, gazing at her.

Emily looked back at him. Why did she keep hesitating? This is what she wanted. She wanted him to be begging her to come back. She wanted him to get tired of the charade with Angelina. She wanted him for forever, didn’t she? So much had happened since she had walked in on him and Angelina. She kept thinking of the hurt look on Cody’s face when she went to talk to George. She thought about the tire swing that she had been so eager to get to today, the tree she could sit under for hours at time. But she had another tree like that. A tree that she had shared with the man who was holding her hand right now, waiting for her answer. She wasn’t sure of what to choose anymore. If she hadn’t met Cody, everything would be clear, but she had met Cody and everything wasn’t clear.

George’s brow started furrowing in frustration. He deserved an answer. He deserved so much more, but an answer at least. His grip was slacking and she knew he was starting to doubt her love for him. He let go of her hand completely.

“I can’t believe this. You’re actually considering him, aren’t you?”

Emily didn’t answer or shake her head in any recognition. She just stared at George, tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes.

“I’m done. We’re done, Emily Black,” George spat.

“George, please,” Emily begged.

George jumped up from the ground and walked swiftly down the hall. Emily just stared at his back, watching him leave her again. She knew, then, that he would never speak to her again. They would no longer talk about Quidditch, classes, or pranks. They wouldn’t talk about the joke shop or their personal lives. She knew he was going to break his promise and not come with her to confront Remus about the journal. She knew he was now going to be a void in her life. He had said he would never give up on them; he lied. He was done waiting for her and he had every right to be. She had messed up, messed up bad time, and she knew it.

Emily buried her head in her knees and cried her heart out, her soul out. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She was already on the fine line. Anymore and she just might find herself back at La Push. And she knew that nobody would be coming to the rescue this time. She heard the portrait door swing open and footsteps filing out. They hesitated and then carried on down the hall, not coming over to her. She was glad. She didn’t want to see Fred, Lee, or Cody. She didn’t want to see Ginny scold her and Hermione frown at her. She didn’t want to see Ron and Harry’s faces of disappointment. She didn’t even want to see Sirius or Remus. She wanted to be alone, completely alone.

Emily listened to her beating heart. It was violently pumping against her chest. She felt the blood pulse through her veins. She felt like running away from this spot. Away from the place he had left her. She felt like she could run for miles on end. Emily was glad that she had decided to dress in tennis shoes and shorts this morning, so she wouldn’t have to go change. Wiping her tears, Emily stood. She slowly walked down the stairs and out into the fresh air. She headed for the lake, slowly at first, but then decided she couldn’t take the sluggishness any longer. She started to run, to really run.

Running was her favorite part of being an anamagi. She loved the wind lashing at her face and ruffling through her hair. She loved the feeling of nobody being able to touch her. She loved how her heart was beating too furiously for her to be able to think about anything except putting one foot in front of the other. Running was her escape.

Emily ran down to the outer edge of the lake and kept going. She ran all the way to the Quidditch pitch and back up to the castle. She ran around the green houses and by Hagrid’s Hut. Breathing heavily, Emily finally collapsed under their tree. She looked at the wood and found what she was looking for. Near the left of the trunk, at the bottom, was a carving of letters. George and her had been sitting under the tree the previous year. It was almost the end of the term, but Emily remembered it as if it were yesterday.


“I’ll race you,” George said confidently.

“Where to?” Emily asked.

“How about to that tree? First to touch the trunk wins,” George grinned.

Emily and George were both sitting on their brooms. George had just finished his Quidditch practice and Emily had just been messing around. She glanced over at him; he seemed smug. Inwardly, she promised herself that she would wipe that smug expression right off of his face.

Emily nodded and leaned forward, bracing herself.

“On three,” George said, also bracing himself. “One.”

“Two,” Emily whispered.

“THREE!” they both shouted.

The two sped off on their brooms. They were neck and neck. Emily peeked at him from the corner of her eye. She didn’t like the fact that they were neck and neck. She pushed her broom even farther and sped ahead of George. She was almost there. George, getting frustrated, tried to push his Clean Sweep farther, but it just wouldn’t budge. Laughing, Emily slammed into the grass, rolled over, and touched the tree trunk. She looked back to find George landing softly on the ground. He smiled at her and Emily blushed.

It’s just George, she chided herself. Your best friend! Why are you blushing?

“I win,” Emily proclaimed. George grinned at her and plopped down beside her.

“Whatever you say, Ems,” George said.

Emily huffed. “What exactly does that mean? Are you trying to say I didn’t win? Or that I cheated or something?”

“No, no, of course not. You won fair and square.”

“Uh huh, and don’t you forget it!” Emily laughed and leaned back against the trunk.

Emily turned her head to face him. He glanced back. His smile seemed forced and she wasn’t sure why.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

“Nothing,” George lied.

“Hey, you know you’re my best friend, right? You can tell me anything,” Emily smiled reassuringly.

“Fred and I, we have big plans. But our Mum, she wants us to go into the Ministry like our Dad. We don’t want to though. Our grades aren’t the greatest and she keeps getting onto us. She said if our O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. don’t pass her expectations then she’ll ground us forever and find some sort of tutor. She just doesn’t get it! We live for our jokes. We want to create a joke shop, but she thinks the idea itself is just a joke.”

“George, don’t worry about it. Ultimately, you have to do what makes you happy. She can’t keep you from your dreams. Just show her that you’re serious about the joke shop.”

George still looked a little worried, so Emily grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. George smiled slightly.

“Hey, listen. Anytime you’re feeling down, just come to this tree, our tree.”

Emily grabbed her wand from her pocket and turned around so that she was facing the tree. She gripped it tightly and pointed it at the bottom of the trunk. A blue light came from the tip and started carving letters. Emily kept carving until she finished. She pocketed her wand and admired her handy work. It said EB and GW, Best Friends Forever, with a smiley face at the end. George smiled at her and took her hand again.

“Come here and remember that no matter what your decisions are, your best friends are behind you one-hundred percent,” Emily said. George nodded, staring at the carving.

Emily ran her hand over the carving.

“You’re supposed to be behind me one-hundred percent,” she whispered, crying silently. She let her teardrops hit the grassy landscape. She clutched her stomach, as the hole in her chest ripped open. She laid her head back against the bark and let the pain take over. She silently watched as the sun came up in the sky. She ignored the people who filed out from breakfast. She ignored the lunch bell that came later. She ignored everything. She watched as the sun set and the moon appeared. It started pouring rain, but she didn’t flinch. She didn’t try to cover herself or seek shelter. She let the rain dampen her hair and clothes and cause chill bumps upon her arms. It didn’t matter to her any longer. She wasn’t sure how long she sat outside. She knew it was all day, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t sure how long she cried, nor did she care. She stared blankly at the moon. She heard grass crunch underneath someone’s squeaky sneakers. She didn’t look to see who had joined her.

“Emily?” she faintly heard a male’s voice ask. She didn’t respond or show any kind of recognition. She continued to stare at the moon as the rain pounded down upon her and her visitor.

“You’re going to get sick,” said the voice, sounding worried. She didn’t turn. “Can you hear me?” Still, no reaction. Finally deciding to take matters into his own hands, the man bent over her and wrapped his arms around her legs and shoulders. He picked her up and started back up the castle.

*Alrighty, let me know watchya think