72. Vex

It wasn't going the way she had hoped. Then again, her hopes had been for Brad to come to his senses and realise that they were only going to work as friends. That she was completely wrong for him. That he could do better, could have what he wanted...

Apparently this was not the case.

Emily was vexed. After so many years, if she had wanted to be with him, she would have been. As it were, it was not what she wanted, and he needed to know that. Regardless of the pain it would cause him. His own fault.

OOC: To Eviee and the failed "date" with Brad.

22. Kneazle

She was excited, almost ecstatic. Emily entered the Magical Managerie with a spring in her step. It was time to choose a familiar. Her first... and last for some time. She didn't like the idea of upgrading or replacing. Nope.

“Kneazles are loyal...” said Andrea in her monotonous tone.

“Too high maintenance,” came Emily's reply.

No, she wanted something useful, something she didn't need to clean after, something that didn't require constant attention when in its presence.

“I want an owl,” she started, “...that owl,” she added, pointing her finger to a handsome barn owl. Dante.

49. Yule Ball

Emily wasn't fond of the idea of a ball, it meant mingling, and she disliked mingling with most people. But there was promise of food and drinks, and so, with that in mind, Emily unwrapped the box she'd been sent from home, containing her new dress robe.

Though her mother didn't understand her at the best of times, she did manage to pick out an Emilyesque robe. This was pleasing. The silver fabric with ornate grey lace pattern print was exquisite and expensive looking. Now she could be unsociable in taffeta.
“Just... perfect.” It was oh so very appropriate.

23. Telescope


Astronomy was one of those subjects she liked, but didn't find to be practical or beneficial for her. On the plus side, it was the perfect class for distractions and pranks. A bit of ink, shoe polish, beetle juice or a sticking charm, non permanent, on the lens rim was all that was required for an amusing night of stargazing.

Diligently taking notes on the planetary movements and orbits and whatnot, Emily observed the pitfalls of her classmates out of the corner of her eyes. Some of her classmates seemed to have difficulty keeping themselves out of trouble. Whoopsy daisy.

24. House Elf

“Get one of the elves to do it for you,” he said gruffly, legs hanging over the arm of the armchair.
“I can do it myself,” Emily replied sharply, giving Xavier a look. He shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

Emily was more than capable of washing her own clothes, blood stains and all. She didn't need to rely on a servant, or slave, to do it for her. Because that's what house elves were, they were the down trodden. The abused and misused creatures. How they ever put up with it was beyond her, even with their magical abilities.

62. Lope

Head down, hoodie up, Emily loped down the dark alleyway keeping to the shadows, her footfalls magically silenced. It had been a while since she was in the neighbourhood, its appearance hadn't changed in her absence. Emily shoved her hands deep into her pocket, bowed her head and walked swiftly across the road.

Taking two stairs at a time, Emily cleared the low stoop in two swift bounds. Steadying herself with a breath, she unlocked the door and let herself in.

Once she was in her fathers old office, door closed, she dropped her hood. It was in here, somewhere.

81. Depression

Staring in the mirror, Emily took her hair in her hands and rolled it up into a scruffy bun, securing it there with a band and a couple of pins. Sighing lightly, she opened her bathroom cabinet and withdrew some of that moisturiser stuff her mother used to use.
“You're not getting any younger,” she said to her reflection, her tone monotonous.

Another year older. Another year closer to death.

Taking a blob of the stuff on the tip of her finger, Emily sniffed it first. Floral. It was slick looking, and cold.
This was not going to happen...

85. Snappish

It had been a while since she last saw Claire, and now she remembered why. Even though her old school friend was intelligent and proper, she was also extremely feminine, and her favourite topic of conversation was relationships. Ugh.

Emily endured an hour of the girl discussing her own woes and successes, and she was content with that, until the words came from the girls mouth. “I know just who to set you up with!”

Say what?!

Emily shook her head. “No,” she snapped. It was a bad idea... a very bad idea. “I'm better off alone.”

70. Teem

It was a sunny day. A warm day. And there were people everywhere It was one of the things she loathed about the holidays, it made carrying out personal errands painful. Giving up, Emily popped her head into the Leaky, opting for a drink before battling her way to Gringotts. No such luck.

Turning back immediately, Emily led the way to Knockturn. It would be the one place not teeming with school kids. Seeing a group of youth standing on the stairs down, whispering excitedly made her want to barf, so she snarled as she pushed her way past them.

87. Plaid

Laying on the couch, with bluebell flames in a jar nearby, and a cup of coffee in one hand, Emily pulled the plaid throw rug up to her chin. A quick glance at the time told her she ought to consider going to bed soon, but the coffee would keep her from resting properly. Placing her coffee on the table, Emily picked up a thick grey manilla folder and let it fall open on her lap.

She was still trying to make sense of the information before her, and she had a working theory.

One name stood out. Řehor Dvořák.

48. Leprechaun


“Wanna bet?” asked a smirking Xavier.

“With you? Not likely,” Emily added, her eyes still scanning through the contents of a thick potions manual.

“Why not? Are you scared of losing?”

“Losing?” She echoed, “No.” Because she wouldn't be the one to lose. Loss, losing, loser were not a part of her personal vocabulary. Emily, was a winner. “I'd hate for you to lose your leprechaun gold,” she mused, setting the book down and pointing to a particular paragraph of the text. “See, I told you so.”

Emily – 1, Xavier – 0.

67. Quell

For the first time since after the funeral, Emily made her way into the cemetery. Pulling her coat tighter around her figure, and popping her collar to shield against the wind, Emily progressed along the rows and rows of tombstones.

It didn't take her long to find her father, the plain tombstone stood out amongst its ostentatious counterparts.
Emily sat in the snow at the foot of the grave. Silently.

Time passed, and she still had questions about her fathers death, ones he couldn't answer. “I'll put an end to it,” she said with finality, promise saturated her tone.

46. Dungeon

Considering she wasn't a Slytherin, she spent a great deal of time in the dark, drafty dungeons. Granted, it was all in the pursuit of excellence. Potions was among her favourite subjects, and her best.

Setting up her cauldron, Emily went through her mental check list as she went.

Cleanliness. Emily gave the cauldron a once over. Check.

Content. She'd measured out her ingredients diligently and followed the directions to a T. Check

Colour. The brew was the appropriate shade of translucent lilac. Check.

Concentration. Smooth and fluid. Check.

Care. When did she not take care with her work? Check.

47. Portkey

With one last glance at her team, and the comfort of the Security Office, Emily touched the portkey, transporting them to their destination. A forest. A quiet forest. It didn't look like much just yet, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before chaos ensued. While she didn't know the finer details of how this was going to go down, she was anticipating her own staged kidnapping. That in itself was half the fun. Though Emily usually couldn't say she looked forward to literally being swept off her feet, there were exceptions.
Let the games begin.

Thanks to the awesome MoM mini-plot/activity - Auror Field Experience trip AND the Ninja hijackers!

40. Spell

Emily wasn't the most patient person in the world, she knew that, but sometimes she couldn't handle other peoples stupidity. Or other things stupidity.

Goblins... were a pain in the butt.
“It's just not possible,” the beast grumbles shaking his pointy finger, and nose, in her direction.

Anything was possible. When there was a will there was a way. This, was not a ridiculous or outrageous request, and she was the customer here – they were always right, apparently. “Do I need to spell it out for you?... I can take my business elsewhere if it's a bother.”

86. Daring


Friday nights were usually reserved for work, training, catching up on sleep, reading, or perusing the muggle night life. On this particular Friday however, Emily had other plans in mind.

She seldom allowed herself to participate in trivial and feminine pastimes, but she was feeling a bit daring and as a result opted for a quiet night in – with a bubble bath. The steam fogged up the mirrors in the bathroom, the fruity scent of bubble bath polluted the air, and a rubber duck bobbed on the waters surface. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but it could have been worse.

52. Bore


There were many things that Emily loved about her promotion, but there were many things she did not. As it was, being out and about, coordinating stings, surveillance, tracking and investigating was all well and good in her book. It was that kind of thrill that she lived for. But with the title of Department Head, came responsibilities she loathed.

“Ms Browne, half an hour till the accounts review,” Muriel reminded of the appointment whilst passing in the corridors.

Emily nodded acknowledging her prompt, “About as fun as a dementors kiss,” she replied. It was a real bore.

56. Fight

Despite her appetite for physical exertion and proving herself capable, Emily disliked confrontations. She was one to tell it how it was, yes, but she didn't argue topics into the ground even if she knew full well that she was right and the other was wrong.

“And why not?!” yelled Xavier, his voice increasing in volume each time he spoke.

Emily gave him a look, her arms folded across her chest.

“WELL?” he encouraged.

“Quit fighting me,” she said simply, raising an eyebrow judgmentally.

“I'm not!” he retorted.

“Then why are you yelling at me?”

53. Chase

It struck her as odd that Gavin required an explanation of the catch and release method. Not so much how it was done, but why.

“It's the thrill of the chase, or the hunt,” she stated, assuming he understood. It was like that goal you strived to achieve, or the item you wanted to own, or that person you wanted to be with- in some cases.
People had a habit of wanting what they didn't have and then neglecting it once they did. It was the thrill that fuelled them, so why not release so others could pursue too?

OOC: Dedicated to Dani for letting us bug her and Gavin.

58. Hoot

It went without saying that Emily disliked things interfering in her work. Furthermore, she disliked things interfering with her employees ability to work. Productivity was key to regaining the respect MLE seemed to have so easily lost. So when the floors iced over, preventing her and her colleagues from navigating the space with ease, she took to her office keen to sit herself down for the remainder of the day.

It really needed to stop raining on her parade.

“What a hoot,” she muttered to herself sarcastically. Seriously, an impromptu production of Hit Wizards On Ice was not helping.

55. Egg on

Xavier had a way of coming back into her life at the most inappropriate of times, and never with good intentions – at least, not in her opinion.

“Head Auror?” he echoed for something like the sixth time. “You?”

Emily barely blinked as she stared at him across the table. “What of it?”

“Either you Brits are caught between a rock and a hard place, or you're actually good enough for something,” came his reply. Emily wasn't surprised.

“You wanna try me?” she asked her expression cavalier. “Come on, you know you want to.”

76. Zap

There were days when she could deal with nonsense, but then there were days she couldn't.
“Watchu say?” she asked the Puffer, eyes narrowing to slits as she stared at him, mustering all the effort she could to make sense of his words.

“I saaaiiidd, you're not thinking straight, you have nargle eggs coming out your ears!”

Huh? Say what?

Emily dug a finger in her ear and wiggled it around a bit.

“Nope, still there,” he mused sincerely.

Shaking her head, Emily extended her wand arm with a jab and zapped him. “Don't be ridiculous!”

78. Author's Choice : Swim Suit

There were very few instances where she enjoyed shopping, and this was certainly not one of them.

“Is this all you've got?” she asked the shop assistant, staring at what she deemed to be a small collection of tiny coloured fabrics.
“Err... yeah,” the girl replied. “What were you after? We've got string, clasp, boy leg, one piece, two piece...” and the girl kept talking. Emily tuned out. Why did this have to be so hard? She needed a personal shopper.

“What would you recommend for me?” she asked, curbing her impatience as best she could.

79. Author's Choice : Hopscotch

“One, two, three … one, two, three, again, repeat,” came the woman's fluent instructions.

“Drop the shoulders, chest out, chin up, steady elbows...”

Despite the discomfort, Emily did as she was told, performing the moves with thin air, circulating the drawing room that had been cleared for her lessons.

“Faster.”

Faster? How was this not fast enough? Nevertheless, she quickened her pace a tad.

“Watch your step,” though not literally, ladies didn't look at their feet... apparently.

Step, step, side step, step, step, side step …

To a small extent, it was almost like playing hopscotch.

80. Author's Choice: Prague

The atmosphere in the city seemed frostier, even as she descended the concealed staircase to the underground alley, and for once it had nothing to do with the sub-zero climate. Dimly lit torch brackets guided her to the reinforced door at the end of the narrow alley, a metal grate allowing for communication between sides.

After successfully providing the days sequence of pass-phrases, Emily was let into the seedy establishment, her feet drawing her to the back room to the private bar.

“You shouldn't be here,” announced the barman in Czech, pouring a drink regardless.

“I have insurance.”