FIC: "The Dim Light From Which Falls Stars" for venturous Recipient:venturous Author/Artist: ??? Title: The Dim Light From Which Falls Stars Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Aurora Sinistra/Emmeline Vance Word Count: 1,800 Medium: Fic 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.
Never.
"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."
* * *
"You don't want to be free?"
Bumble shook his head. "No."
Emmeline crouched down so she was eye level with the house-elf. "Are you sure? I doubt I'll survive my upcoming mission. I'll be in the Prime Minister's back yard. Easy prey for the Death Eaters. You know how full of themselves they are now." Dementor mist covered much of the city, making it hard to be hopeful about her mission.
But even if the Dementors were still at roost in Azkaban, not spreading their misery over England, Emmeline wouldn't have been hopeful.
"I want you to be safe, Bumble, and happy."
Emmeline waited patiently as the elf considered her words. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, as if considering various options, but eventually said, "Give me to Miss Aurora. She'll take care of me."
It was a good idea, but Emmeline wanted the elf to be free to pursue his own passions. That was part of why she was still a member of the Order of the Phoenix, why she was fighting a second war when she should be enjoying her golden days. She wanted every magical creature to be free and live a life without prejudice. For everyone to have opportunities — not just pureblood wizards. Yes, it would take time, but beating You-Know-Who would be a step in the right direction.
"Are you sure?" she asked again.
Bumble tapped his chin. "Yes. I think she would rather have me cleaning her quarters than one of the Hogwarts elves. She's always going on about how they try to organize her papers when they dust the stacks on her desk."
Emmeline laughed. It was true — Aurora was more than a little disorganized, which drove the well-meaning elves crazy.
"She might let me help with research, if I protect her messes." Bumble's eyes lit up. Emmeline had taught him to read when she was a child, and ever since, he had loved the ancient Greek myths. He and Aurora often debated the connection between astronomy and mythology, keeping each other company when Emmeline was away on Order business.
Bequeathing Bumble to Aurora was an excellent idea, and Emmeline was almost disappointed she hadn't thought of it herself. Her first thought had been to offer Bumble freedom, as she had always planned to do in her will.
"Well, if you're sure"—she laughed at Bumble's exaggerated nod—"I'll arrange it."
* * *
To Aurora Nyx Sinistra, I also leave my house-elf, Bumble. I hope he will keep her books and papers in order, thus lengthening her life and sanity.
Aurora blinked in shock. Emmeline had left her Bumble? She had always thought the house-elf would be freed after Emmeline's death. Surely this was a mistake.
"I don't want him. Free him."
"Wait." Bumble popped up, as if he had been waiting in the official's bag, tucked next to Emmeline's wand. "I don't want to be free, Miss Aurora. I talked about it with Miss Emmeline. She thought it would be good for me." He gave the official a sideways look, his eyebrows touching with distaste, and mouthed, "And for you."
* * *
Bumble straightened the stack of books on Aurora's desk, satisfying his inner urge to neaten things by lining up the spines. He didn't do anything else, though, knowing how picky Aurora was about her desk and shelves. It didn't make sense to him, but she somehow knew where every single book and scrap of parchment was, as if she had some system in her mind. Maybe she based it on the stars.
Whatever system she used — if there was a system — Bumble did as he told Emmeline he would. He kept the peace between Aurora and the Hogwarts house-elves. He helped Aurora with research, both by keeping her in tea and biscuits and by memorizing the table of contents and index of every book she had. He might not be able to find a certain book, but he at least knew if they needed it. He even had enough free time to start his own study of Norse mythology and teach himself how to knit.
It was a good life. By house-elf standards, it was unheard of good, except in the very best families. It was too bad Dobby hadn't survived the war; Bumble was sure they would have been good friends.
But it could have been even better, if only Aurora would emerge from the haze of grief that had cloaked her for the last three years. Bumble had tried everything he knew, but nothing had worked. Aurora taught, wrote articles for various astronomy journals, and slept. The only time she left the castle was to take her turn at chaperoning Hogsmeade days. She even stayed at Hogwarts over the summer and winter holidays, not wanting to return to the home she had shared with Emmeline.
Even with all the good, Aurora's sadness was enough to depress Bumble. He knew Emmeline wouldn't have wanted her to mourn for so long, to keep from living life.
He wished he knew what to do, but bringing someone back to life wasn't something he'd learned from his parents or Emmeline.
Bumble sighed as he drew neat X's on the calendar, marking off the dead days of October. He would just have to keep trying.
* * *
"Emmeline Vance, I call you to me." Aurora tossed a sprinkle of dried herbs onto the fire. "Emmeline Vance, I call you to me." Next she threw in a handful of pomegranate seeds that had been mixed with drops of her blood. The flames hissed in response. "Emmeline Vance, I call you to me." Sprigs of Emmeline's favorite flower, spring gentian, followed, turning the flames blue. "Come to me, Emmeline Marenda Vance."
Sitting behind Aurora, Bumble crossed his fingers and toes. He had helped Aurora gather the ingredients, and while he wasn't sure the Samhain summoning would work, he hoped it did. He didn't want Aurora to lose the tiny spark she'd had for the last two days.
The fire crackled and popped, the flames waving back and forth in a hypnotizing motion. Aurora fought to keep her eyes open, much as she had fought to control her emotions when Emmeline's wand and house-elf had come into her possession. She clutched that wand in her fist now, hoping it would serve as a beacon for her lost lover's spirit.
Aurora, my love. You shouldn't mourn me.
Aurora's head snapped up, and she looked around wildly. She'd heard Emmeline's voice, but where was she?
Close your eyes, Aurora, and you'll see me.
Aurora did, and Emmeline's face came into focus. At first she wasn't sure if she was imagining it, as she had been for years, but then Emmeline smiled, showing that sparkle and zest Aurora had never been able to get just right. "Emmeline? Merlin, Emmeline! I've missed you so much."
Aurora, I've missed you too. But it hurts me to see you like this. Living without living. I need you to move on, to be happy again.
"But I want you."
Emmeline reached out, as if to touch her, and Aurora felt warmth on her cheek. I want you too, Aurora. Gods know it's hard for me to say it, but you have to stop mourning me. Find someone new. Love someone new. Live your life, please. Live both of our lives.
Aurora sucked in a breath. She didn't want to hear Emmeline saying she had to find someone new. "Yours was stolen! You should be with me. You shouldn't have done whatever the Order wanted you to do. They didn't need you. I did. I do."
The warmth moved down her cheek, to the back of her neck. There was a slight pressure, just like how Emmeline had always grabbed the back of her neck before planting a kiss there. The Order didn't make me do anything. I knew I would probably die, and I wanted to die. To go out in battle. I was going to die anyway, you see, and I couldn't bear telling you, or putting us through a lengthy illness. I shouldn't have kept it a secret, but you know me. I hate bad news.
Aurora didn't know what to say. She stared at Emmeline's spirit, hand squeezing her wand so hard she could feel the infinity symbol against her palm.
I'm sorry, Aurora. I really am. I thought it would be easier that way, and I was wrong. I hope you can forgive me someday. Emmeline smiled, that bright smile Aurora missed seeing every day. And I hope that you'll think about what else I've said. I'll always be there for you, but I want you to have happiness again.
"I'll … I'll try," Aurora whispered. The words ate at her heart, but what else could she say?
I know you will. Listen to Bumble. He wants to help you. That's partly why he didn't want his freedom. He hates seeing you so sad, just like I hate it.
"Alright. I'll try. I will." Aurora was so overwhelmed it was difficult to speak, and later she knew there would be five hundred things she wished she had said to Emmeline. "I love you," she said as the spirit image started to fade.
I love you too, my woman of the stars. That's where I'll be, watching you.