»everything is still a blur«

[emmeline laurent]

emmeline anastasia laurent ;;

You stand in the line just to hit a new low
You're faking a smile with the coffee to go
You tell me your life's been way off line
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All the objects in Emmeline's line of vision were hazy, unrecognizable and almost indistinguishable from one another. The current time, she estimated, was somewhere between two and three in the morning. She had lost track long ago in the midst of her occlumency lesson, focusing instead on erecting a wall to keep her adorable professor from peeling her mind like a ripe fruit. During the intermissions, she focused her efforts on recognizing the shade of blue that colored her professor's irises. Eventually, she made them out to be a light blue; however, after having gazed into them for the millionth time, the professor had penetrated her defenses and told her they were actually sky blue. It would've made for an embarrassing situation if Emmeline were another girl, but she wasn't and therefore just smirked. It wasn't as if he didn't have the hots for her.

Having pushed open the grand door that led into the kitchen, where all the school's house elves prepared scrumptious delicacies throughout the day, Emmeline observed the large room to be empty. It seemed all the tiny house elves had retired for the night, leaving a few candles lit for those who wandered in during night. As expected, the house elves were considerate and left behind two platters for those who visited the kitchen after-hours. One was stacked with various vegetables, while the other was stacked with bruchettas. Emmeline took a moment to admire the display; it reminded her very much of home, where more time was spent on creating an appealing display than on the actual food. Approaching the platter on the left, full with bruchettas, Emmeline delicately removed one from the top.

The need of caffeine in her system arouse after the first bite out of her bruchetta. Emmeline's eyelid kept on meeting together in an attempt to close, but that couldn't happen. A long morning awaited her back at the greek house, compromising of the completion of her business administration essay and, without the assistance of a wand, turning five turnips into carrots accompanied by describing all the laws of transfiguration in detail. Emmeline considered the transfiguration portion of her morning to proceed without any difficulties, but she dreaded the business portion. Although she was a 94% average student, Emmeline knew the essay would consume more than a couple of hours. By the time she'd be done, other Slytherin girls would be waking up with hangovers.

Removing her white wool coat and plopping it down upon the counter, Emmeline spied a red kettle resting upon the marble counter a few feet away. Grasping the handle in her hand, Emmeline made way toward the nearby sink. Usually, the making of coffee would be handled by magic rather than by hand, but Emmeline hadn't found it necessary to bring her wand for the lesson and therefore, left it lying on her desk. She filled the kettle up with a sufficient amount of water, placed it upon the ancient gas stove and twisted the stove knob. A small fire began warming up the kettle. Searching for cups, Emmeline opened the cupboard above and discovered a china set, almost identical to the one her mother prided herself on. They'd only eaten from the set two times; on her parent's twenty-fifth anniversary and her father's fiftieth birthday. The day after her mother turned fifty, the set would never be eaten from again so long as she lived.

Emmeline firmly slid her fingers around one of the fragile cups and placed it down upon the counter. After grabbing an unused teaspoon lying a few inches away, she dumped three spoonfuls of coffee into the cup, going through the procedure like a robot. Making coffee had integrated itself into her usual routine last year, during which she also pulled all-nighters, cramming for her next-day economics exams. Now that everything was prepared, only awaiting the steaming hot water, Emmeline strode over to the platters and picked up another bruchetta. Although the chef rarely prepared Italian cuisine during her childhood, due to her father's dislike of it, Emmeline took after her mother: there simply wasn't enough Italian food in the world to satisfy her hunger.

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