Emma Dobbs (malignantfemma) wrote in fidelius,
Emma Dobbs
malignantfemma
fidelius

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June 26, 1998

Emma nearly pounced Seamus after breakfast that morning. The letter from the Ministry had almost been dripped straight into Sarah Iverson’s bowl of cereal, but she had rescued it in time and read the contents to herself. She had even been able to keep a straight face through most of the meal, but she was sure her quietness would give her away. She couldn’t wait to tell him what the letter had said about her parent’s estate, but she didn’t feel it right to do it in front of his lot of friends.

So, the moment everyone rose to leave for classes, Emma pounced him, holding him back.

"Oof!" he gave a mock groan as she stopped him in his tracks (quite effectively). Then, he turned around, and slid his arms around her waist, steering her towards the wall. "And what did I do to deserve such a greeting today, love?"


"This!" exclaimed she, waving the letter in front of his face, "It’s what I -we- have been waiting for. Go on," her smile was encouraging as she handed it to him, "read it."

He took it, at first bemused. "Miss Emmaline Laurel Dobbs..." he murmured to himself as he started to scan the words. A few minutes later, his eyes were wide. "Oh... bloody hell! This... you'll be free and independent and completely SET by your seventeenth birthday, unless I'm very mistaken in what this means!"

Emma nodded, eyes sparkling. "It’s everything I’ve ever wanted - by way of freedom, I mean." Out of happiness, she reached out and hugged him tightly. "I won’t have to worry about evil Death Eater relatives coming to take me away…the Ministry already has plans for me…and I won’t have to worry about how I’ll live, though I had complete confidence in you as a provider."

Seamus held her tight, and kissed her cheek, still getting used to being able to do this not under the cloak of darkness. "Even if this hadn't happened, though I'm truly glad that it did, I would have given you a place to stay. And I daresay I wouldn't have been the only one willing, either."

"I’m not going to stay with my uncle forever," pointed out Emma. She hardly knew him, other than the fact that he, too, had denied the Dark Side. He had fled for his life before she was even born, and the only view she ever had of his was a "bastard traitor". Now, the thought of him intrigued her. "Though it will be nice to finally have a chance to meet him…and to think, the Ministry is sending me to the States!"

"That should be interesting," he laughed, waggling his eyebrows, "I'd be most amused if you developed an American accent over there."

"And give you another reason to poke fun at me? No thank you, Mr. Irish-Accent. Besides, you’re coming with me." Emma poked him in the chest to exaggerate her point.

"I am?" he blinked owlishly at her, looking somewhat silly.

"I can hardly travel across an ocean by myself," she answered, looking up at him innocently, "And you wouldn’t want me to get lost all alone, would you?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again... and then shrugged slightly, before shaking his head. "Of course not," he said with a wry expression on his face, "I'd follow you to the ends of the earth, but the States aren't even that far."

She sighed lightly. "Fine, but I just thought you could use a holiday."

"I'll go with you," he told her, reaching out to tuck a strand of brown hair behind her ear, "Anywhere, with you. Assuming this uncle of yours doesn't interrogate me and give me 'the talk' or... so on and so forth."

"I hardly think we’ll give him reason to initiate such a conversation," she smirked, laughter playing on her lips. "Though that makes me winder if he has children of his own that would be of age to receive such words."

"Well," he mused, "We'll see, I suppose... know when you're going, yet?"

Seamus laughed lightly, "Don't be so sure. Besides me... I'm sure there are others who love you. I believe I heard Kirsten say something about inviting you over to her house sometime..."

"Really? Well then, I shall have to discuss summer plans with her. In the meanwhile," she looked back up at him, "you better start planning on an out-of-country excursion."

"Will do," he chuckled, caressing her cheek. "I'll start contemplating travel plans and such in History of Magic, then."

His eyes glinted as they walked down the hall together, "And perhaps start writing the Portkey station in King's Cross in Transfiguration... write my family about this upcoming journey in Defense... and by lunchtime, all will be done. Hmm?"

"And when do you plan on doing your schoolwork, hmm?" Emma laughed, folding the letter and placing it back in the envelope.

He shrugged vaguely, "Sometime."

"As Prefect, I must insist that you do not study at all this morning, but rather ignore Professor Binns and make plans for our trip. This is mandatory, and I will not allow you to do anything else,” she said in mock-seriousness. After a moment, she added: "But don’t let Professor Warrington catch you not paying attention. I don’t want to be responsible for the repercussions you may receive…"

His grin was wide as he walked her to the door of the greenhouses for her Herbology class. "How about I plan for the trip in History and pay attention in Defense so that Warrington doesn't turn my hair pink and sing the Slytherin fight song or whatever it was that Harry was shaking his head about?"

Emma shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Don’t be ridiculous, Seamus. It’s the Slytherin glory song, not the fight song. Honestly, where do you get such false information?" She tried to keep s straight face, but her eyes betrayed her bemused sentiments.

"Well. Whatever it is, my hair won't be singing it," Seamus pouted, "Harry can have that dubious honour. I'll be good. Scary and ebil man, the Slytherin gi...er... right."

Emma leaned up and kissed him on the lips quickly. "Don't pout," she instructed, "it's most unbecoming. And if you REALLY want your hair pink, I can do that favour for you at noon."

"I don't!" he squeaked quickly, "Do it to Ron if you have to, but not me! NOT ME!"

"Go to class, or you'll be late," she said, biting back her laughter, "And I swear that I won't turn ANYONE'S hair pink. Weasley's is close enough to that shade as it is."

"All right," he laughed. And as she stepped into Greenhouse 3 to join the rest of her class, he ran back off towards the castle, his heart light for happiness. Things were looking up... and everything would be all right now.

And he'd have something to do in History class besides napping, for once.
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