A Visit from Emma
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Harry. After the shocking discovery in the dungeons, he had spent much of his time alone in his quarters, trying to process everything that had happened. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, providing a comforting background to his turbulent thoughts.
He kept replaying the moment he had seen Ginny in the dungeon—the shock, the disbelief, the flood of memories from a life that now seemed so distant. He knew he had made the right decision in sending her to a slave trainer, but the emotional weight of that choice lingered.
Talon, sensing his master's need for solitude, had been discreet, attending to his duties quietly and keeping his presence unobtrusive. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with unspoken tension, a reflection of the inner conflict Harry was grappling with.
As the afternoon sun began to cast long shadows across the room, there was a soft knock at the door. Harry looked up from his reverie, surprised by the interruption.
"Come in," he called, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.
The door opened, and Emma, the Shade of the Throne, stepped inside. Her ethereal presence seemed to dim the light in the room, as though she brought with her the essence of twilight. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held a depth of understanding that few could match.
"Harry," Emma greeted him with a soft smile as she closed the door behind her. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Not at all," Harry replied, gesturing for her to take a seat by the fire. "Please, come in."
Emma moved gracefully to the chair opposite Harry, her movements almost otherworldly. As she settled into the chair, she studied him for a moment, her gaze piercing yet gentle.
"I wanted to check on you," Emma began, her voice as soft as the whisper of the wind. "I understand today has been... difficult."
Harry nodded, appreciating her concern. "It has," he admitted. "More than I expected."
Emma inclined her head slightly, acknowledging his words. "I also wanted to ask about the girl," she continued, her tone careful. "The one you found in the dungeon. Who is she?"
Harry took a deep breath, steadying himself before he spoke. "Her name is Ginny Weasley," he said, his voice even. "She's from my old world—the world I came from before I ended up here."
Emma's expression remained serene, but there was a flicker of understanding in her eyes. "Your old world," she echoed softly. "That must have been quite a shock, seeing someone from your past after all this time."
"It was," Harry agreed, his gaze drifting to the flames in the hearth. "I never expected to see anyone from that world again. And certainly not here, in Morgana's Crater."
Emma leaned forward slightly, her curiosity evident. "You mentioned that she would never accept this world," she said gently. "Can you tell me why?"
Harry hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Ginny... she's strong, determined, and fiercely loyal," he explained. "But she's also deeply connected to the world we came from—the values, the people, the way things were. She would never accept this world for what it is. And she would never accept that there's no going back."
Emma listened intently, her eyes never leaving Harry's face. "She would resist," she said, more of a statement than a question.
"Yes," Harry confirmed, his voice tinged with sadness. "She wouldn't understand why things are the way they are here. She would fight against it, refuse to adapt. And that would only lead to her suffering."
Emma nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "You've done what you believe is best for her, given the circumstances," she said softly. "But it can't have been an easy decision."
"It wasn't," Harry admitted, his voice quiet. "But I know it's the only way she can survive here. This world is harsh, unforgiving. She needs to learn how to live in it, how to protect herself."
Emma's expression softened with empathy. "You care for her," she observed gently. "Despite everything, you still care."
"I do," Harry replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't change the reality of where we are now. I've accepted this world, for better or worse. But she... she wouldn't. She couldn't."
Emma leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "You've had time to adjust, to understand what it means to live here," she said. "She hasn't. But perhaps, in time, she might learn to accept it as well."
Harry shook his head slowly. "I don't think she ever will," he said, a note of finality in his voice. "This world is too different, too alien to everything she knows. And once she realizes there's no going back... I don't know how she'll handle it."
A silence fell between them, the weight of Harry's words hanging in the air. Emma regarded him with a mix of compassion and understanding, recognizing the difficult position he was in.
"Thank you for being honest with me, Harry," Emma said after a moment, her voice as soft as ever. "I know this must be incredibly difficult for you."
"It is," Harry admitted. "But I'll manage. I have to."
Emma stood, her movements fluid and graceful as she crossed the room to stand beside him. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch cool and calming. "You're stronger than you know," she said softly. "And whatever happens, you'll face it with the same strength and resolve you've shown since you arrived here."
Harry looked up at her, gratitude and resolve mingling in his gaze. "Thank you, Emma," he said sincerely. "I appreciate that."
Emma smiled faintly, her eyes shimmering with an otherworldly light. "Rest tonight," she advised. "Tomorrow is a new day, and you'll need your strength."
Harry nodded, feeling a small but significant sense of comfort from her words. "I'll do that," he said softly, his voice carrying a touch of determination.
With those parting words, Emma turned and quietly left the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts once more.
As the door closed behind Emma, Harry leaned back in his chair, the fire's warmth washing over him. He felt a deep sense of relief at having shared the truth with someone, but the weight of the situation still pressed heavily on him.
Ginny was here, in this world, and nothing could change that. He had made the decision to send her to a slave trainer, knowing it was the only way she could survive. But the reality of that decision, and the impact it would have on someone he had once cared so deeply for, was something he would have to live with.
The fire crackled softly, and Harry stared into the flames, his mind a storm of thoughts and emotions. The world he now lived in was harsh and unforgiving, and he had learned to navigate it with a steely resolve. But the past had a way of resurfacing when least expected, challenging everything he had come to accept.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and Harry knew he had to be ready. But for now, he allowed himself to feel the weight of his choices, to acknowledge the pain and uncertainty that came with them.
As the fire burned low, Harry finally rose from his chair and prepared for bed. He would need his rest, as Emma had said. There was no telling what the next day would bring, but whatever it was, Harry knew he would face it head-on.
And with that thought, he extinguished the last of the lights and allowed the darkness of the night to envelop him.