|atdelphi (atdelphi) wrote in hp_beholder,|
@ 2014-04-10 14:31:00
|Entry tags:||aurora sinistra, aurora sinistra/emmeline vance, beholder 2014, emmeline vance, femslash, fic, rating:pg|
FIC: "The Dim Light From Which Falls Stars" for venturous
Title: The Dim Light From Which Falls Stars
Pairings: Aurora Sinistra/Emmeline Vance
Word Count: 1,800
Warnings/Content Information (Highlight to View): *None*.
Summary: Aurora refuses to move on.
Author's/Artist's Notes: I hope you enjoy, Venturous.
To Aurora Nyx Sinistra, I leave my wand, if it isn't lost at the time of my death. I hope she will forever remember the adventures we shared.
When she heard the reading of Emmeline's will, Aurora managed to hold back her tears. It was a Herculean effort, but she didn't want some Ministry of Magic flunky to see her sorrow.
The Ministry hadn't cared enough to notify her when Emmeline was murdered — she'd read the news in the Muggle paper. But the printed, non-moving words on the page had just been confirmation of what she already knew from three nights of silence. Emmeline would never have left her waiting for so long without word.
Aurora hated that she would never know exactly what happened. Never know which Death Eater had done it. Never know which spell had been used. The Order of the Phoenix might know the details, but they weren't talking and she wasn't asking. She hated the Order for taking Emmeline away from her, for making Emmeline fight another war.
Not that anyone could make Emmeline do anything, but that was beside the point. It was easier to blame the Order, because the thought of blaming Emmeline for leaving her alone…
She wouldn't do that.
"Do you have her wand?" Aurora was pleased that her voice sounded brusque and business-like, displaying none of the emotion choking the back of her throat.
"Oh. Yes." The official rummaged through her bag and pulled out a wand that was as familiar to Aurora as her own. Eleven inches yet swishy. Rowan wood cored with a unicorn hair. The bulb at the end of the handle had a tiny infinity symbol, spelled there by Emmeline in their seventh year.
Aurora took the wand, cradling it in her hands. There was no trace of the magic she had often felt when touching Emmeline's hand, but that was okay. At least she had some part of her, something that had been with Emmeline in her final moments of life.
"There is one other matter."