A lot had changed in Emmeline Vance's physicality in the last twelve or so years.

Most prominently, the hair she'd allowed her friends to dye blonde was back to its usual darkened brown colour. It hurt too much to look in her reflection and see the stinging reminder of the days when they'd been so carefree.

The dark circles under her eyes, which back in her schooling days had only graced her face during exam periods, were permanent.

And her eyes, her dark blue eyes didn't shine so much anymore. Something about the past twelve years had dulled them into a constant, unwavering monotone of a gaze.

But these changes were miniscule, unnoticed even in the presence of Sirius Black, who'd changed even more.

Gone was the charming young man who'd stolen her heart ever since her seventh year. Gone was the air of confidence, the swagger of someone who appeared to be content with is life.

Gone was the smile that could reduce her to the sixteen year old girl at her core, swooning at the very sight of him.

In place, was unruliness, gruffness, the unkemptness of a prisoner in his own soul.

Her voice had caught upon laying eyes on him, choking at the tears that hadn't come in so long. Not even when Dumbledore had disclosed to her his full knowledge of Sirius' escape, of his innocence. No, Emmeline had been rendered lost for words at the realisation that for so many years, she had been hating and blaming an innocent man.

"Don't." he'd murmured in his quietened voice, humbled and husky at the same time, before she could say anything.

She'd taken a step towards him, unable to mask the conflicted emotions on her face. Guilt. Sorrow. Misery. Elation? Or was that simply confusion, masquerading as a sense of happiness?

"What can I say?" she'd breathed, covering her mouth with her hand and gripping tightly onto the kitchen bench for support. She'd known this day would come. Emmeline knew she couldn't harbour a criminal being chased by the Ministry, no, that would raise suspicions. Dumbledore wouldn't allow it

But here he was. Standing in her apartment. The apartment he'd helped her choose, all of those years ago.

Things would never be the same again. The reconciliation was bittersweet, melancholy. Just laying eyes on each other brought back memories they wished they could relive for the rest of their lives.

First year. The sorting ceremony, and introductions were made at a noisy Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He had broken his treacle tart in half and handed it to her, the beginnings of what they thought would be a lifelong friendship.

Third year. Her first Quidditch match, and he had held her by the shoulders, looked her in the eyes, and told her she would play brilliantly when she'd verged on a nervous breakdown in the Gryffindor common room.

Sixth year. The first time Emmeline had tasted the stinging burn of Firewhisky. She was an emotional drunk, as they'd both found out that night when she'd cried herself to sleep worrying about the war. He'd sat next to her in front of the common room fire, finally carrying her to her bed when she fell asleep.

Seventh year. The sparks of the Order were born from the ashes that the Wizarding World was descending into. It'd taken seven years for them to realise their feelings for each other, and the looming darkness tore them apart.

James and Lily's wedding. He was the best man. She was a bridesmaid. They danced, and reminisced about the days when Lily hated her husband.

And…now. Emmeline wondered if he was thinking of the same things. Their eyes connected, and simultaneously began to tear.

She launched herself towards him, enveloping his still figure in her arms, until he eventually gave in, and they both let go. Not physically. It would take hours, days, months for them to let go of the embrace.

But mentally. The tears cascaded down, and Emmeline swayed. "I'm sorry." She whispered, repeating the words over and over again until they meant nothing anymore. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But still, they meant nothing. Nothing could take back what she'd made him endure.

Things would never be the same again.