Irreversable PV Emma Milanes

Little Emma had gone nearly five hours without eating if you didn't include her night's rest. She'd even avoided her mother's buttermilk pancakes to save up for this moment. Her primary school teacher had bored her throughout the day with information she wasn't going to in her future. While essential to Muggle history, she didn't care about World War II or how typhoons developed in the oceans. It wasn't relevant for her. She had her priorities. The teacher blathered on and on about Britain's performance in the war as the child skimmed through the memories in her head; anything to escape the reality of the classroom.

Daydreaming had become a serious addiction for the girl, zoning out of the room was the reason she didn't do well in class. It naturally didn't intrigue her. Emma's mother advised her about her dependence on witchcraft. It not healthy, you'll lose yourself, her mother would critique her aspirations of attending Hogwarts. It was her final year in primary school, and she couldn't wait to escape her hometown of ten years to experience something new, something that would influence her life. She'd evolve in the school and become a brand new woman. Growing up was something every child rushed, it wasn't the growth that excited her. Change was coming, and she wanted to be mentally prepared.

Anticipation for pizza made the wait unbearable for the petite child. It didn't seem like the timepiece was moving at all, but with each minute that passed, the louder the reverberations became until the students of fifth grade were ultimately dismissed; two words that snapped her back into reality. It was finally lunchtime and the brunette was one of the first, starved students out of the oak door.

Her hurried footsteps traveled immediately for the cafeteria, a couple of friends accompanying her side to keep her mind occupied. The three friends shoved in front of the crowd, ignoring the distress and exclaims of the younger students. They were in the fifth grade, the most experienced of the collection. They essentially ran the schoolhouse. The adolescent girl had grown a bunch in her last year. She made new friends that wouldn't last, but she knew that much. Her father made it exceptionally clear not to develop any powerful connections.

On the food line, the girl's growls were more boisterous than ever but the clinking of alloy and the uproar of younger scholars drowned it out. The commotion coming from the room was very loud, but this never bothered the girl. Finding three uninhabited seats, the friends sat and began gnawing on their slices. "I have to pee," Emma noted, taking a morsel of her pizza. It came out of nowhere. As severe as her craving was, her bladder pulled her apart from the greasy aroma coming from the doors down the passageway.

The brunette's sneakers tapped against the tile flooring with each step, dodging the light traffic heading towards her. Most students had already received their preference of food. She would have continued her journey to the lavatory, but an image of a perched girl caught her eye. She couldn't tell if it was just another one of her imaginations or real life; she had to double back to make sure. Oh, she was unmistakably real.

"Excuse me," The fifth-grader called out softly, the apprehension in her voice apparent. There was a rumor spreading across the school. If it were true, she was in danger, but naive little Emma wanted to see the good in everyone and perhaps hear the story for herself. Even at ten years, she still pried for information that didn't belong to her. She took a seat next to the girl without asking for permission. "Are you okay? Lunch started a while back."

@Opeila Winters

Reducio

@Emma Milanes

The headmasters detached the chains of the swing. Was it irreparably broken? The second years would be devastated. There were a few girls that used the swings in every break, except for lunch of course, what would they do when their usual spot was no longer there?

Opeila preferred a more quiet corner near a a very low 'maze' of box hedges. There were some big stones nearby that did just well as chairs for fifteen minutes. It was no problem for her to miss lunch. If her absence was noticed by her peers, the reaction would most likely be relief from many. Lunch was a rather unpleasant time for the young girl. Sitting alone at the corner of a table, getting some pitiful looks from older kids who had heard of what happened but didn't know who she was and the gloating of Garry Shepherd.

It hadn't always been that way. Opeila used to get along with a few girls from her class, they used to spend every break together, playing tag with some others or sharing whatever their mothers- or father in Opeila's case- had put into their lunchbox.

Deep in thoughts, she only noticed that not everyone was at lunch when she heard a voice, telling her that lunch had started a while back. "Hm? Oh, yes, I- I know. Didn't really feel like facing the whole school today.", Opeila responded and looked at the other girl. She was definitely older than her, maybe a fourth or even fifth year. Did she know who she was? Probably not, she would surely not talk to her if she knew...

The naïve, little brunette didn't have a sense of danger, and if she did, her detector didn't produce a sound standing beside the younger girl. Growing up, she surprisingly wasn't taught 'stranger danger' preferably than 'tragic magic.' She had to learn how to restrain her abilities, and while she didn't understand her parent's rationality yet, it was to protect herself, her community, and her family.

Emma didn't need the early on weight as she prepared for her mission to Scotland, but it was the only thing she'd heard this year. Meager jokes she made about revealing their secret transformed into hours packed with passive-aggressive words from her father. She didn't want to blow their cover, but she was so young. His words were substantially demanding her to be perfect. To come up with the perfect lie that'd go unnoticed, even by her best friends. Even if it meant destroying her ten-year-old reputation. If only she had taken the effort or care to establish one...

Growing up in elementary school, she was an extremely timid kid who chose to linger around her two choice friends, Casey and JJ. They were both two thick-skulled boys, but even at an early age, the sporty, tomboyish side of Emma radiated brightly.

As per typical rumors, there were at least a dozen variations floating throughout the school. She heard it every corner she turned. Whether it was passing useless notes in the classroom or stripping information from the younger students, there was a distinct fabrication constantly being developed. At this point, she was getting bored second-guessing her classmates' moral integrity. Hearing an eight-year-old with a knife was already unbelievable. Maybe it was her curiosity that left her prying for an unheard explanation, but as her time was cutting short, her empathy towards others was as well. She did not need to create any more ties to the Muggle world.

"Oh, um," she started off. There was no sympathy in her eyes, but instead the spasm of adolescent excitement. The fifth-year was by no means good with her speech. With attempting to memorize two languages simultaneously, her brain often ricocheted over words. There was no genuine way to conclude the rumor. While she didn't want to come off as meddlesome, Emma was nothing but intrusive. Oh well, old habits die hard. "Are you... hungry?

Her eyes darted to the younger's hands every half minute, scanning for anything that could be used against her. Her decision was wholehearted. She didn't think she was in immediate danger, but she had to analyze every possible situation and design her escape. Emma wasn't the most dependable at keeping her emotions in check, but for the sake of concealing her magic, she took in a jittery deep breath. It was quite obvious fear controlled her actions. The older girl wasn't even sure if she was being a decent person. She didn't mean to bump into the girl that dispatched a boy screaming to the hospital. Without warning, the girl could no longer retain the clasp on her tongue. "Are you okay? There's a lot that's happened, y'know."

@Opeila Winters

Reducio

@Emma Milanes

Opeila looked at the other child dispassionately, who seemed unsure what to say. She didn't know what to say either, she didn't have anything to say to this girl, this stranger who had suddenly appeared next to her and disrupted her solitude. So she didn't talk, she just looked. Would the older kid walk away? Or would she stay? She wouldn't have entered this corridor if she didn't have anywhere else to go and if it only was the bathrooms.

Instead the girl asked if Opeila was hungry. She thought for a bit. Often, when Opeila was in thoughts, she tended to forget that she was hungry. Forget to eat. Her feeling of hunger was just not loud enough to drown the noise of her thoughts. Now her active attempt to feel inside her was promptly rewarded with a growl of her stomach. "Yeah, a little.", Opeila said, tilting her head. She saw the girl checking her hands and presented empty palms. "No weapons to school today.", she joked with a weak smile.

"I will be. Hopefully.", she answered the brunette's second question. "With that rumor going around about me, it just won't be in this school. But that's alright, I guess." After all, while Opeila would have never brought a knife to school, she did turn that bush into stone. She somehow was the cause of Garry Shepherd's injuries, so maybe this was just what she got for not having control.

"I don't know your name.", Opeila then said, looking at the girl. "Mine is Opeila Seilun." She paused again. "Also am I stopping you from something?" Spending the break in the corridor was surely not the girl's plan.

I'm so sorry, this took ages!

English was... challenging to say the least. Not because there were numerous grammar customs and spellings, not even because its idioms and expressions made no sense, but because she was studying two languages concurrently... with no success. It was discouraging to know the ten-year-old couldn't comprehend one of the languages articulated at home, but even at her young age, there were millions of words she didn't know.

As if it weren't apparent, the words of the younger girl were practically nonexistent. With trying to restrain herself from soiling her jeans and scanning the student for weaponry, Emma wasn't genuinely listening as she hoped. Yeah, she had good intentions, but she didn't want a rumor about herself circulating about the school much like the other girl. She tried to stay clear from the spotlight, the brunette didn't need, nor want, her name in the mouths of anyone. She was perfectly fine with staying inside her little bubble of safety. This was just an act of curiosity bound to land her inside hospital robes.

Though her eyes met with the girl named Opeila, her mind was elsewhere. Maybe that's why she had such a hard time learning in class. She just couldn't pay attention to where it mattered the most. Don't do it, don't do it... She fought with herself smoothly swaying from left to right. The fifth-grader tried her best to repress her bladder, obviously losing the match so far.

"Oh! No! Wait, I didn't mean it like-" She stammered, the volume in her voice diminishing as she continued, "I... I just, I don't know," she admitted glancing down at her footwear to distract herself while she strived to find something else to speak.

"Do you want something to eat? We can share, my name is Emma." Just like she had practiced in the mirror, reciting it to herself to get it perfect. She wasn't big on formalities, she had one name to go by. It seemed like the right thing to say, and who could turn down free food and maybe even a friend? She surely couldn't. Along with her grammatic struggles, socializing was also a significant problem that needed to be solved. Oh well, they'd get better. Hopefully.

"I kind of need to pee, but that's okay I can hold it." The brunette admitted to the younger girl, taking a step to the right to shift her balance and then back to the left. Before the schoolgirl could interject and tell her to get lost, she continued to talk. The young girl was so close to learning the truth, or Opeila's truth.

@Opeila Winters

@Emma Milanes

It seemed that Opeila's little joke about not having brought weapons to school embarrassed the older girl, who promptly began to defend herself. That meant that she had been right, didn't it? It wasn't like she minded it much, she was used to people checking her hands while talking to her, kids of her age and younger in particular. She had never been intimidating enough to scare older kids, the quiet, skinny little eight year old she was.

And then the girl dropped her defense, admitting that she didn't know. Know what? Know if she could trust Opeila not to get out her knife set in a moment? Know what to believe? Green eyes examined the older child closely for a few seconds before Opeila responded. "Do you believe what they said about me?" The second year asked straight up, not willing to dance around the topic any longer. "You seem scared. But there's no need. I'm just... here, avoiding the looks." Those would certainly follow her as soon as she went to the cafeteria, at least those of Gary Shepherd.

To Opeila's big surprise, the girl- Emma- no longer acted tense, but instead invited her to eat with her, making the little girl's eyes widen. "D-Do you mean that?" It had been a while since anyone asked Opeila to do anything with them and it pleased her greatly to hear Emma offer just that. Although it would probably feel awkward to sit with the upperclassmen- Emma surely had some friends waiting for her too, right?- Opeila was delighted by the thought.

"I... I would like that.", she said shyly, wondering if it was serious or if Emma had expected her to answer no. Instead she told Opeila that she needed to go to the bathroom, like Opeila had assumed earlier, but that she could hold it. "Oh, please go.", Opeila quickly said, "I'll just wait here for you."