<Out> of the |Ashes|, tag; Silas

[Millie Azure]

Surreal. That was the only way to describe the events of the evening that had led up to this very moment, to Slytherin Millie Azure and Hufflepuff Silas Edington, seeming to the world as the best of enemies, now walking arm-in-arm on their way to the sixth floor. Broken ribs and tear-stained cheeks paled in comparison to the secret world in which they now found themselves. Even Mem, the schizophrenic delusion of perfect pureblood posture, remained absent entirely, driven from her mind by that fateful kiss.

Secret. The only thing life with Silas Edington could ever be for the woman currently tied to Draco Malfoy’s side. Emily Azure was anything but ignorant to the risk simply speaking with the Hufflepuff whose arm was now wrapped securely around her presented. Searing guilt tingled up her arm; if word of her behavior were to ever reach the wrong sort… Her stomach churned uncomfortably as she instinctively leaned ever closer to the man at her side, forcing the thoughts away. Tonight was no time to dwell on the if’s and could be’s of what the future may possibly hold for them; tonight was a time for the relaxing in and enjoyment of each other’s company.

Tonight was a time for simply being themselves, an opportunity that, for Emily, was a new and unexplored territory. Never before had anyone so much as guessed that the face everyone saw was nothing more than a guise created for the sake of pleasing the world around her. Silas had been the first, and, in the course of a bazaar and surreal series of events, had come to personify freedom. He was the only one that could offer her the chance to let down her guard and be herself, the freedom to have a voice of her own. Even more, he made her feel safe enough to allow herself to take advantage of that chance. With Silas she had nothing to fear.

“ I don't think I'd even trust a house elf with you.” The words still echoed through her thoughts as they crossed an empty span of wall on the sixth floor. ‘We need someplace safe to be alone. Someplace comfortable and relaxing. A good place to have a drink.’ Finally the door to the secret room appeared before them, beckoning them inside.

(( Here's what I've got before I fell asleep. You can either pick up here and describe the room, or wait for me to figure it out tomorrow before I leave... ))

[Silas Edington]

Magic was something that most people thought to be non-existent. It was a fairy tale spun to entertain children, or a source of great mystery and biblical evil. It was anything but real to them, and for those who knew otherwise saw magic as something physical. Something they could learn, touch, and manipulate. Silas Edington, however, saw magic much differently. Magic was something that created. It was a force that one held to be able to draw impossibilities to reality, and make the unbelievable and unbelievers see the other side of the coin. It was that dark side of the moon-- the side that no one saw, or hardly ever thought of-- that Silas lived on.

But, where there was nothing to be seen, there were many questions that followed. Questions had followed Silas his entire life. What were his intentions? Who was he, really? Why did he act that way? How could he, of all people, make Prefect? But all of these questions were pale and lifeless in comparison to the reality of things. The true question, and the one that rang ever-so-clear in the young man's mind, was "What will I do, now?" To be more exact, the subject was no longer singular. There was now a "we" involved. What will we do, now?

With a broken rib, a dirt smudged face, and the faintest of smiles, Silas walked arm and arm with Emily Azure up to the Room of Requirement. The discarded broom had registered with him, but was passed away. Who would know it was his broom, anyways? It was such a common thing. Everyone and their grandmother had one...There really wasn't anything to worry about, other than how he was going to spend the night, the weekend...the rest of his year, here. Did he have to think about the years after? When things became more...serious? It wasn't as if anything was certain. Would it be spent in stolen glances and stolen moments? He didn't think that would be...too bad. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, if he remembered the saying correctly.

They approached the empty wall where they both knew the Room of Requirement sat, waiting to be filled with thought, Silas was quick to envision some rather simple comfort. The Hufflepuff Common Room. Oh, but a Common Room with butterbeer! It wasn't as if he was absent of thought, merely that he thought it was the best place to be, at the time. The den was always warm, the sofa sitting before the fire with two plush armchairs on either side, angled inward. A few small tables sat towards the far walls, made for studying or quiet conversation. The black and gold banners that hung from the rafters gave the den a more earthy feel, which Silas supposed was contagious for the very grounded type of people that Hufflepuffs tended to be.

Silas pulled on the handle, once the door had appeared, and he swept inside, letting the door close and seal behind them. For insurance, he withdrew his wand and tapped on the wooden handle of the now burrow-like door, shaped in the fashion of a tunnel. The door gave an audible click, and seemed to hum before Silas leaned down and whispered a word to it. As he stood back up, the door handle completely vanished, keeping anyone who might bother to try and enter from ever being able to, until they had finished.

The young man turned, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair. He looked with a soft smile to the Slytherin who had finally come to change her mind, after all these years. He reached out and touched her arm. He didn't really have questions. Well, he had one, of course. He wanted to know who else was sharing that mind of hers. After all, it was Emily who he was always talking to; not Millie. And when that Millie had come out, hoping to defend what tradition there was left in the whole House-Faction debacle, Silas had proudly dodged right around it, as he had every other time.

"So...uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck, smirking slightly, "Drinks, right?" He waved a hand to the sofa, two tall glass mugs of butterbeer sitting upon the long coffee table. The room was dimly lit, keeping light only by the fire. "And, I guess we should have one of those 'talks', too, eh?" The kind of talks where one had to label their expectations. Which was weird, because Silas never had any. What was their to expect between them, except the worst? Expect it, and hope for the best. If it was anything better than what they thought, than it was just a bonus.

The only thing Silas cared about was that her life wasn't ruined because he couldn't keep his hands and lips to himself. But, inwardly, he knew her life was ruined if he hadn't...It was such a confusing mess! He needed time to sort out exactly what he had to do from here. Things needed to be planned carefully, executed fluently, and everything needed to be shrouded in uncertainty. What they had couldn't be seen, which Silas was good at understanding because anything serious that had gone on in his life was kept completely out of sight. Why couldn't he keep Emily the same way?

[Millie Azure]

They had walked to the castle in silence, giving Emily a chance to take in her surroundings with what seemed to her to be brand new eyes. Never before had the castle seemed so… colorful. The monotonous stone walls peppered with paintings that had once seemed so dreary and dull now appeared to come alive before her eyes- never mind that they literally came alive every day. Always having been both her safe house and her prison, the castle was now simply mystifying. This was how it always should have appeared.

And for the first time since before her brother’s murder, her thoughts were entirely her own.

But how long would that blessing hold true? As the odd couple entered the Room of Requirement and Silas’ arm pulled away from her while he insured their privacy, the memory of what had just taken place on the Quidditch pitch assaulted her thoughts, bringing with it the rush of panicked urgency, uncertainty, and fear. Her arms snaked around her stomach as she turned to focus on the room now before her eyes in an attempt of a distraction. Was this what the Hufflepuff common room looked like? She found it to be quite earthy and warm, very fitting of the badger mascot that adorned their crest. It was comforting in an odd and alien sort of way as it contrasted so thoroughly the watery motif of the Slytherin common room.

Jumping slightly as his hand found her arm once more, Emily had to fight her initial urge to pull away. This was all so terribly new and intimidating. Was she even capable of opening up in the ways he no doubt would eventually expect her to do? Forcing her reflex reaction away and relaxing against his touch, she knew she had to at least try. This Hufflepuff, this man, for whatever reason, had been the only thing standing between herself and Mem this evening. He had been the wall Mem could not crack. She needed Silas around, especially right now. Consequences be damned.

“So… uh…” Her eyes wandered across his face, unable to keep herself from mirroring the slight smirk on his lips with her own. “Drinks, right?” Following his gesture to the mugs on the table, she nodded gratefully in agreement. After the evening they’d had, drinks were most definitely in order. And the fact that the only light in the room was from the fire in the hearth had not escaped her notice. The soft light was welcome and relaxing; calming even. “And, I guess we should have one of those ‘talks’, too, eh?”

Emily’s brows furrowed in confusion as she made her way over to the couch. Taking her mug of butterbeer, she slipped off her shoes and sat down, folding her legs under her and sort of curling up on one end of the couch. As much as she wanted to be held safely in his arms right then, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea just yet, nor was she entirely sure it was the best idea at the moment. She took a drink from her mug while waiting for him to join her on the couch before asking, the uncertainty clear in her voice, “What… sort of talks?”

How very naive she was to the workings of true relationships! Who could really expect much else from someone with as limited experience as she? It wasn’t as though she had ever spent long hours wrapped in Malfoy’s arms discussing their feelings. No, their talks had always been centered on the politics of the world in which they lived, and their physical interaction had always been strictly to satisfy those most primal of human urges. Emotions were utterly vacant from every aspect of what they had; love was an unheard of concept, and Emily wasn’t even certain she had a proper definition of the word.

Then there was the whole question of what happened now. After all, they couldn’t very well go parading about the school hand in hand. That path could only lead to misfortune. But could they have any sort of relationship at all, even if they kept it behind locked doors and away from prying eyes? Her safety hinged on her ability to keep up appearances, and that included her relationship with Malfoy. Would Silas be able to simply sit back and watch while she was with him? That was hardly fair to Silas. Although, she had to admit the scandal behind it all was quite enticing.

Scandal aside, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest as she took his feelings of having to see her with Malfoy into account made her head spin. Never before had leading a more or less double life been quite so… confusing. It had always been rather clear cut and simple. There was the real Emily, the woman that was quickly discovering she wasn’t even sure who she was anymore. Then there was Millie, Malfoy’s armrest and perfect Slytherin pureblood. Finally, there was Mem, pureblooded Death Eater and cold to the core; she was the reason the Dark Mark now rested on Emily’s forearm, the mark that brought in yet another layer of complexity to this entire mess. If he found out about any of this, they would both be dead before either could so much as bat an eye. And Silas didn’t have a clue.

He would inevitably find out; the mark wasn’t something she could hide. Not from him. Not forever. The sooner he found out, the better. At least then she would know, know if she was right to invest herself in him, know if she was worth the risk.

[Silas Edington]

New. Different. Unknown. Foreign. All of this was encompassed by those words. Emily was finally being introduced to herself, while Silas felt he had known her since the day they walked into Hogwarts. Since their very first argument, Silas could define what was real and what was nothing more than a shadow. Something had been following Emily like a plague, feeding off of her, twisting her into what everyone knew her as. But Silas could see hearts. He knew those who were born with a bad heart, just as he could see those born with a good one. Emily had a good heart. It was veiled in secrecy, hidden from the world, and shrouded in a poisoned fog that threatened anyone near it.

Yet, through it all, Silas could never lose sight of that good heart. It was there, struggling to beat under the weight of the expectations put upon her. The expectations, stress, and anxiety that allowed Mem to be born. It was...a small hope. Something that Silas had held onto because it seemed too frivolous to just throw away and forget about. Something about ignoring that good heart made it seem...immoral. It ate at him and made him question what he truly cared about. And, after this last summer, Silas realized he had to care for something. And it wasn't until that day in Diagon Alley that he discovered that what he cared about had been at war with him since he stepped foot through the large, double doors that led to the school.

But, it was still new. The person that Silas had become was still new. It was a change forced by an ill-fated hand that caused the death of Travis Edington. There was a tremor that had shaken Silas's foundation, threatening to break him and cast him into uncertain waters. The only thing that had stood between that end was James Knightly...A friend who Silas was beginning to feel he didn't deserve. The foundation had been rebuilt over the duration of an entire summer. As far as could be seen, it was stronger than before. But it was new. It wasn't Silas's craftsmanship that had stabilized it.

Silas now had to take confident steps forward. He had to come to terms with what it meant to care. Silas could see good hearts, but he did not know how to handle them, yet. Not like Remmy did. And he could tell that Emily was....she was counting on him to know what to do. It was the way she looked at him, as she sat on the edge of the couch. Soft, uncertain words slipped from her lips, “What… sort of talks?”

Silas had to find the answers. It was his obligation, his role in all of this. He moved around the couch, sitting at the opposite end. It was...good to have some distance, right now. Diplomatic. Space created time and time, when rushed or forced, could often turn into a considerable bane to one's planning. It was good to exercise some restraint. The Hufflepuff ran a hand through his hair as he set his butterbeer down on the coffee table. He exhaled a puff of air. His eyes watched his hands interlace, shaking his head as he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his knees. "Well...For example...We should talk about image." He hated the word. Talk of breeding falsehoods and lying to one another in the face of Hogwarts.

"Perception is reality...What they see, they will believe. What they know cannot change...You are Millie to them. And Millie hates Edington. If that's how it has to be...then we will have to put on the dog-and-pony show." Silas seemed as though he almost had to force the words, biting back at himself for not being fully realistic with himself. Of course it had to be that way! What else did he expect? Nothing about this would be easy...just worth it.

He glanced to her, trying to gauge her reaction. The more he looked, the more he wanted to be on the other end of that couch, holding her and not caring about any of this. But the future was what was important. He could hold her when he had a game plan...Something that he could follow-through on. "We're going to have our unique problems...I understand this. You'll have Malfoy to deal with, and I'll have--" He cleared his throat, "...An entourage...I'll just have to be much less charming than usual, and it shouldn't be a problem." He smirked, shaking his head. "But...Malfoy. That's going to take some getting used to seeing..." Silas could feel his ears getting hot just thinking about it.

Greasy haired, pale-faced, rotten twerp trying to put a hand on Emily...Talking to her like he owns her. Talking down to him when he doesn't even remotely measure up...And Silas will have to standby while he expects he and Emily to battle it out with harsh words. "...I'm going to have to brush up on my acting. Seriously brush up..."

Silas sat back in his corner of the couch, playing at the sandy brown strands of hair that fell in front of his eyes-- something he rarely did and was brought on when he was anxious about something. And how could he not be? Silas Edington, Hufflepuff's heart-breaker and most devious asset would have to devise the greatest scheme in the history of Hogwarts: How to fool an entire school of witches and wizards-- all the way down to the Headmaster. Who's to say it can't be done......right?

[Millie Azure]

Cautious eyes watched as Silas sat at the other end of the couch, grateful that he had chosen to keep the distance between them. In all the terrifying newness of their situation, distance provided some safe sort of buffer. Something like a security blanket she imagined. Her eyes followed his gaze, focusing on his hands as he spoke. “Well… For example… We should talk about image.” The suggestion caught her off guard; what could a Hufflepuff possibly understand of the importance of a Slytherin’s image? Of course, Silas didn’t seem to be any ordinary Hufflepuff. He had understood her, seen her for who she really was before even she had been able to. If this was ever going to work, she had to stop looking down on him as just some ordinary Hufflepuff. He deserved her respect, her… trust.

"Perception is reality...What they see, they will believe. What they know cannot change...You are Millie to them. And Millie hates Edington.” Yes, that was exactly what the outside world saw. They had spent five years building that image of bitter rivals. But would Silas be able to keep it up after tonight, or was everything about to change? Their safety very likely depended on their ability to keep up this charade. There was no question about it. He had to be able to keep this up, or they would never stand a chance. She parted her lips to say just that, expecting him to argue. He beat her to it. “If that's how it has to be...then we will have to put on the dog-and-pony show." Her eyes widened as he finished. Although the Muggle phrase was unfamiliar, she pieced together enough to figure out what he meant: he was willing to keep up the image they had built since they first stepped into the halls of Hogwarts. She was almost too grateful to believe the words, wondering silently if there was some catch she was missing. Surely there had been; he had to be positively insane to even consider it. Then there had been the tone in which he had made his declaration: the words had almost seemed forced. He didn’t want to keep up the act. So… why was he offering? …No, stating. It had been a statement of fact that they had to keep this going. But why?

Stroking the handle of her mug with her thumb, she waited for him to continue. By now, she had had to avert her gaze to anywhere but the man sitting across from her. This was important; they needed to figure out where they went from here, what happened now. “We’re going to have our unique problems… I understand this. You’ll have Malfoy to deal with, and I’ll have—” Her eyes flitted briefly over his face as he paused to clear his throat. Did he really plan on allowing her to keep things as they were with Malfoy? She wondered momentarily if he had even considered the private rolls the other man expected her to fulfill regularly. Something told her he wouldn’t be quite so willing to allow things to go that far. The question of how to prevent Malfoy from becoming suspicious of her sudden withdrawal would need to be addressed… in time. “…an entourage… I’ll just have to be much less charming that usual, and it shouldn’t be a problem.” Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, unable to decide which path bothered her more: seeing him publicly surrounded by women- women that would no doubt be no match for her in any way –or telling him that it would only be fair that he kept up his normal charm to help ease her own guilt about Malfoy. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t handle seeing the entourage: Malfoy had never been famous for remaining completely faithful. When he spoke again, her stomach tied itself firmly in a knot. “But… Malfoy. That’s going to take some getting used to seeing…” Even his ears were turning red with… anger? jealousy? at the thought. God. None of this was fair for him. How could he even be considering it? She wasn’t worth this.

"...I'm going to have to brush up on my acting. Seriously brush up..." That at least got a giggle out of her. Acting she could do, it was being real and honest that she found difficult. “Naw, you just have to keep acting exactly the same as you always have around me.” Granted, that was easier said than done. There was something about fighting off a schizophrenic personality that brought two people closer together. A soft sigh passed her lips as she watched him play with his hair. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, to… comfort? reassure? him that they could do this. First she was going to need to convince herself, not only that they could, but that she was worth his trouble.

Instead, she leaned forward, placing her mostly-untouched mug back on the coffee table and folding her hands in her lap. She supposed she had to add something to the conversation at some point, otherwise it wasn’t much of a conversation, was it? But it was so much easier to just listen and agree… especially when she didn’t know quite what to say, what words to use. Taking some solace in knowing that if she didn’t say something exactly right the first time, Silas wasn’t going to crucify her for it, she swallowed hard and started the only place she could think of to start. “Thank you… For… Understanding how important it is to keep up this image. It means a lot to me.” Her voice faltered in hesitation. There were very real concerns that needed to be addressed, not the least of which rested on her forearm. That problem would address itself in time, she was sure, but there were still others, problems Silas had brought up, that could easily be addressed now. “Why, though? Why are you willing to do that for me?” She had to know what he was expecting, why he was willing to do this. She wanted to be able to trust him, some part of her already knew that she could, but she needed to have some grounds for believing he wasn’t going to run away the moment he found out her darkest secrets.

Pulling the cuff of her left sleeve farther down, she wound it tightly around her fingers; anything to keep it hidden. “And… we’re eventually going to need a more… permanent solution to Malfoy...” Looking away, she rubbed her left forearm as though trying to ease a particularly irritating spider bite. “He has expectations, and while he has been known to look elsewhere for satisfaction, he will eventually start to ask questions…” She clasped her arm tightly, cringing in expectation of his reaction. Unique problems, indeed.

[Silas Edington]

Silas had never been one for faith. He'd never put faith in anything, save for himself. Yet, now, he was faced with a situation that had no proverbial light at the end of any tunnel. The only thing he could see was black when he looked past the girl that sat before him. There was no certainty if any of this would be worth it. No guarantee that it would work out, and that they would be happier for the journey, presented itself. For once, Silas simply had to hope for something better. He had to put faith in whatever this was. To a degree, Silas knew what it was. An attempt at a relationship. They were building a foundation in which they could stand upon. They would have to build it brick by brick.

As far as Silas could tell, nothing about this was going to be easy. He didn't even have Remmy to rely on, his best friend and confidant. He knew James hated Emily. They were from the same worlds, both born Purebloods, whose families were tied to the darkest aspects of the term. Remmy had escaped that. He turned his back to it, and was a marked blood-traitor. He would always hold his bitterness against anyone like "Millie" Azure. As thick as his friend could be, Silas didn't think there was any chance of him showing Remmy the truth. That Emily was not Millie; that there was a heart worth caring about within her.

“Naw, you just have to keep acting exactly the same as you always have around me.” Again, much easier said than done...

Silas nodded slightly to himself upon hearing the words. Around her...Silas had always been different around her. When it was just them, and without prying eyes or ears. Of course, there were times when their arguments had been nothing more than a playground of wit for them, but there were more than enough times to count where things between them had been...Touching. Such as the time on the train, and many moments before. Silas had never been so upfront with her, but his subtle behaviors had always been able to defuse Millie and let Emily breach the surface.

There were times for games and times for...Silas wasn't exactly sure if he could call it quality time spent together, but he knew that, at the end of it all, talking to him was liberating. A different way of thinking, a different path to travel on-- even if it were only for ten minutes-- and see the strange sights along the way. For, indeed, nothing concerning their journey up to this point had been normal. And, now, he was asked to simply act the same. He had to act the same when around others. Not around her.

"It's not going to be so easy. It'll be manageable, but Malfoy is going to hate seeing my face." Silas smirked an easy smile, "I'll just have to terrorize him more than I had you." If Silas had to continue to take false swipes at Emily, he'd have to make up for it by being twice as cruel to old Draco. "If I don't make him cry by the end of the year, then something's wrong." He jested lightly.

“Thank you… For… Understanding how important it is to keep up this image. It means a lot to me.” Her voice faltered in hesitation. “Why, though? Why are you willing to do that for me?”

All Silas could do was shrug at her question. He knew that was unfair, though. There was always a reason. Always a grand-scheme behind everything Silas ever did, or touched. And, now, he was faced with the truth that not everything he did could be calculated upon exact timing. "...I haven't been able to think this far ahead, yet..." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing slightly as he explained. "Everything had a reason. I wanted to get to know you because I knew there was something more to you than just...what everyone wanted to see. You were far too intelligent for that. You had a mind of your own, and I wanted to know exactly what it was thinking." He looked to her, smiling faintly before sliding across the couch next to her. He turned towards her, propping an elbow on the back of the couch as he spoke, "And the more I looked under the rocks, inside the dark corners, and ever little hole in the wall you had built up, I began to understand. I knew that there were the things you had to do out of obligation, and the things that you preferred to do when no one was around."

Silas chuckled lightly, "Like try to hex my face off after embarrassing Malfoy." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "But I also figured out how to push those obligations away. I had to give in order to receive. A kiss for a brief moment of peace, a question so I could ask one, too..."

Silas was now upon the point of where everything had been taken out of his hands. "And...you asked the right question. One that I wasn't counting on. I didn't think you'd ever even care about what happened to Travis...Didn't think anyone did, really. After that, nothing was planned...I don't know why, or how, or if any of this even makes sense..." He reached a hand to her, placing it over top hers. "But, just like before, I know there is something more to you. Something more to this than what I can see, right now. I'm going to find the answers. And I'll dance whatever dance I have to until I happen upon them."

That was as true as Silas could ever be. It was difficult for someone like him to say he didn't have an answer, or didn't yet have a reason behind his actions. All Silas had was a purpose, and Emily was the embodiment of it. He would find his reason, in time. “And… we’re eventually going to need a more… permanent solution to Malfoy...” Looking away, she rubbed her left forearm as though trying to ease a particularly irritating spider bite. “He has expectations, and while he has been known to look elsewhere for satisfaction, he will eventually start to ask questions…”

Yet another riddle to add to the ever-growing list...How was he going to handle Malfoy? He couldn't just make his life hell and expect him to go and crawl under a rock. He couldn't just ask Emily to avoid him, either. They were on the same Quidditch team, the same classes, and in the same Common Room. Avoiding him would be impossible, almost. Except...

"Just don't let him be alone with you, for a while...I'll think of something better, eventually, but, for now, that will buy us some time. So long as you're only in public together, we'll be alright." Silas slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it gently in reassurance. Nothing was going to be easy, and Silas couldn't give any solid answers, yet, or diminish many of her fears. All he could do was try. He just wasn't sure how much his trying would change, yet.

[Millie Azure]

The show must always go on. For the past sixteen years, that’s all Emily Azure’s life had been. One continuous show in which she was nothing more than an actress reading lines from a pre-determined list. She knew the role she was expected to play, and had memorized the character’s innermost thoughts and emotions. Millie had become a second skin so tightly bound to her that the woman had more or less taken over who she was, had become so real that the actress had all but lost who she really was. Without the cover of her normal persona, she felt almost naked sitting on the couch in front of this man. As soon as the door of the room was opened and the outside world was allowed back in, she would be able to slip back into Millie just as easily as she put on her school robe every morning. Millie would return, and Emily? Well, an outstanding actress never breaks her character.

For Millie, acting and reacting in exactly the same manner as she always had in public was more or less a non-issue. Since her entire life was already an act, a second skin, very little would change in the way her every-day life continued. She would not have nearly enough time in these following hours to discover enough about who she truly was to find something to cling to, to keep her grounded, to remind her of her real self. No, Millie was the personality deep enough to flood her being. She would return exactly the same as she had been when Emily had awoken that morning. For Millie, nothing would be different.

And that was possibly the thing that terrified her the most about the entire situation they were in, more than her reputation, her family, Malfoy… even possibly more than the Dark Lord. Emily had finally been given a chance to experience herself, to discover what it was like to think and act of her own choosing and not be dictated by the invisible script that was currently her life. Now that she had it, she didn’t want to let it go. Once Millie returned, Mem would be quick to follow. If that woman wanted to play, Emily could soon be gone for good, buried in the depths of her mind without so much as a voice to the life her body would lead, unable to fight for herself no matter how determinedly Silas tried to save her. Mem would likely murder him in his attempt.

So now she had come full circle that evening. If the Dark Lord didn’t torture and kill them, Silas’ very future could possibly be ended by her very hands. The same hands that had silenced the life of her brother. And brothers? That is where the evening had began, only adding to their growing list of problems and complications they would have to overcome if anything was ever to become of this most unlikely relationship. Easy in no way described the future in store for them both.

"It's not going to be so easy. It'll be manageable, but Malfoy is going to hate seeing my face." The expression on her face mirrored his smirk as she reassured him, “He already does, Sai,” while laughing softly. Ever since that incident on the train, Malfoy had gone out of his way to scoff, sneer, and otherwise demean Silas behind his back whenever the opportunity presented itself. "I'll just have to terrorize him more than I had you." She had to stifle the ‘awww’ that had begun to form in her throat at the words, finding the sentiment sweet in an odd sort of way. Keeping it quiet wasn’t hard, as it was quickly covered by laughter at the very mental imaged formed when Silas continued, "If I don't make him cry by the end of the year, then something's wrong." The laughter faded as the image began to shift, replaced by one of the Slytherin male finally breaking from the stress of what he was expected to do, becoming an all too abrupt confrontation with reality for the woman on the couch. She pulled the cuff of her left sleeve tighter into her hand before mumbling, “A challenge almost too easily won this year…” She knew it was going to be a long year, especially considering it was still only October. Would it all be worth it in the end? She wasn’t even sure what “it all” was anymore…

"...I haven't been able to think this far ahead, yet..." If their future was based purely on the ability to think ahead, they really were screwed. Had someone told her just that morning that she would be here in the Room of Requirement with her thoughts to herself sitting across the couch from Hufflepuff Silas Edington, she would have laughed in their face and explained in the simplest of Pureblooded codswallop logic exactly the reasons why that would never happen as long as they both should live, and yet here they were. "Everything had a reason. I wanted to get to know you because I knew there was something more to you than just...what everyone wanted to see.” She had known that, that was the very thing that she was assuming had drawn her to where they were now. He had gotten behind the curtain, he had seen through her great act in a way nobody else seemed to be capable of doing. A modest smile formed on her lips at the compliment he paid her next. “You were far too intelligent for that. You had a mind of your own, and I wanted to know exactly what it was thinking." Then he moved closer, and her gaze averted once more, uncertain of how behave so near someone who genuinely cared about her as a person and not just about the physical intimacies she had to offer. "And the more I looked under the rocks, inside the dark corners, and ever little hole in the wall you had built up, I began to understand. I knew that there were the things you had to do out of obligation, and the things that you preferred to do when no one was around." Once again, that small smile found its way to her lips. He had understood her better than anyone in her own house could ever dream to, better even than her best friend who had glimpsed, on more than one occasion, the slightest of falters in the character of Millie Azure but had not been observant enough to notice. Only her brother had come so close, and he had ended up dead because of it. Silas was the only person alive to crack that outer shell.

"Like try to hex my face off after embarrassing Malfoy." She couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the memory. Millie had had every intention of doing exactly that. She would have done it, too, if he had not have kissed her. Shaking her head slightly, her laughter subsided as Silas continued. "But I also figured out how to push those obligations away. I had to give in order to receive. A kiss for a brief moment of peace, a question so I could ask one, too..." This was true, and tonight she had been more than grateful for his resourcefulness at being able to bury her feeling of obligation. Had he not have been, Mem would surely be walking around in her body at this very moment.

"And...you asked the right question.” It was a statement that caught her off guard. There had been a proper question to ask? If that was the case, it had been a good thing she had decided to ask about his brother as opposed to her other option, satisfying her own curiosity as to what made her so special, as to why, out of all of the women in the Slytherin house, he had picked her to study and learn. “One that I wasn't counting on. I didn't think you'd ever even care about what happened to Travis...Didn't think anyone did, really.” She looked down at her hands and closed her eyes, forcing away the sting that had started to form in her eyes. Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she explained, “I lost my own brother.” The tiniest tidbit of information slipped through the smallest of cracks as she slowly began to open up to this man beside her. “After that, nothing was planned...I don't know why, or how, or if any of this even makes sense..." It wasn’t until she felt his hand upon hers that she opened her eyes again, staring at their hands as he still spoke. "But, just like before, I know there is something more to you. Something more to this than what I can see, right now. I'm going to find the answers. And I'll dance whatever dance I have to until I happen upon them." She swallowed the lump in her throat that had formed at his words. Zarchary’s blood was on her hands; Emily felt the guilt Millie and Mem never would. That deep feeling of undeserving inadequacy began to form in the pit of her gut. “What if you don’t like the answers once you find them?” She could feel the subject approaching, that dreaded topic she both desperately wanted the answer to and fervently wished to avoid. The mark on her arm weighed heavily against her flesh. Terrified that the truth would chase him away, she feared it was too soon for him to learn her secrets. She wasn’t even positive she could trust him to remain silent once he did know; after losing his brother to Death Eaters, she would not blame one heartbeat for turning her over to the Ministry and locking her away in Azkaban. It was the fate she deserved, was it not? The familiar sting of tears returned to her eyes. That’s where murderers deserved to spend their lives. But what if he didn’t turn her in? What if he kept her secret and accepted her past, understanding that it had been Mem, not Emily, that had taken Zachary’s life? It would be worth the honesty to know he was worth investing her emotions in, would it not?

She blinked back the sting in her eyes, quickly composing herself before addressing the issue of Malfoy. "Just don't let him be alone with you, for a while... I'll think of something better, eventually, but, for now, that will buy us some time. So long as you're only in public together, we'll be alright." Now why hadn’t that thought occurred to her? If they weren’t alone, he couldn’t try to get her in bed. Granted, that would hardly stop him from exercising his other rights as the man who thought he was her boyfriend, but what was a play without a proper stage kiss? She squeezed Silas’ hand in return, uncertain of what she was feeling. It was nice, an alien sort of feeling she could definitely get used to… for someone to attempt to understand her and to offer her genuine support and reassurance. Nodding slowly, she finally looked up to meet Silas’ gaze. “I can’t guarantee that will dissuade him from everything, but that should at least prevent the major one.” Their world couldn’t be perfect, and she figured as long as Malfoy initiated the public displays of affection, Silas would not be able to object quite so loudly. After all, it was for their better good in the long run, was it not? Worth it in the end? The ends would no doubt justify their means.

[Silas Edington]

There was a reason for all things, as Silas was always one to believe. Everything happened for a reason, everything could be controlled, manipulated, twisted, and shaken down to its very core until its foundations crumbled-- even people. So, just as he sat there, looking at a young woman he knew to be confused, trapped, and wanting, he began to wonder upon a very interesting notion...Why her? That is, why had Silas chosen her over all of the others? The school was filled with more than enough girls to go around, and Silas felt as if he could truly have the pick of the lot, if he put his mind to the task. It took him a while; just staring into her eyes seemed to bring the answer into reality.

Silas had always been able to read people. He understood them, how they moved, why they acted, what they wanted to say without having to ever speak a word. Silas could also see the hurt. He could see a past within them, even when he had never been a part of it. Emily's eyes betrayed a deep sadness, and always had. Angry or sad, but never truly happy, those eyes had been something that Silas always lost himself in. In a strange sort of fashion, any young woman he had ever been with had the same eyes...Silas was beginning to wonder if he gravitated towards the wounded hearts?

One could agree that Silas had an indomitable personality. He was consistently upbeat, happy as a lark in the mid of spring, and had a confidence that couldn't be shaken. He couldn't be hurt, he couldn't be brought low, and he couldn't be moved from his stance on life-- it was his, and he would make the best of it. His persona was complex, his contagious mannerisms as quirky as they were devilishly smooth, at times. Yet, that was who Silas was. It satisfied others, not himself. The wounded needed a Superman to hold onto. He was as much their attraction as he was attracted to them. The two satisfied one another. He felt important for a time-- just long enough to get them on their feet-- and they felt wanted, were given much needed attention, and shown how to hold their own measure of strength before Silas was eventually moved past. Moved past, but never forgotten.

"I lost my own brother." It was a small voice that came after his talk about Travis. Just a small gleam of opportunity, which Silas was not going to waste. If he were going to make any progress of beginning to understand what to do, where to go, and what his next steps would be to pull this off, he would need to know...well, he'd need to know everything. It was a game of chess, and he needed to know who the pieces were. He could only guess his father was the king, the mother the queen, and Malfoy the prospective rook, hoping to exchange places with the crown.

"What was he like? What happened to him?" He asked gently, folding his hands together in front of him. That was when he heard something that wasn't all too surprising to his ears, “What if you don’t like the answers once you find them?”

Silas somehow always knew what to say when the moment was pivotal. He was never one to be able to flip the switch and be less Silas-like, but he knew when to have a moment of sincerity. His laughter, his jokes, and his playfulness were mere defense mechanisms, and were a built in trait due to a lack of a solid home life. He knew this about himself, he had no reason to continue being so, but it was so ingrained into his system that it was now part of who he was. Silas was an independent. He didn't need anyone to be close to him in that manner. All he needed was to be understood; nothing more and nothing less.

"It doesn't matter if I like the truth, or not. It's not me who has to come to terms with them, it's you. Those answers are in the past. They're gone. Just like Travis is. We remember them, but we don't let them break us. We let them strengthen us." It was a subtle wisdom Silas had developed over the years as he learned to cope with the loss of a brother. There would always be that pain, but that pain wasn't allowed to show. He was Superman. He was the one who had to be like steel, so that women like Emily didn't have to be. It wasn't her place or what she deserved. She deserved to be soft, again.

When it came to Malfoy and how they would have to deal with him, Silas simply shook his head. He didn't want to think about him. He wanted to focus on her. There were questions that needed answers-- on both sides. The trust they had was circumstantial, for the time being. Truth wasn't something that was accepted without tests and trials. This was their time to repair what they had broken during their six years of war. It would take both pairs of hands, and, more importantly, two voices.