As it became closer and closer to the day when the students would have to go back to Hogwarts, Emma noticed that Sirius became increasingly less merry, certainly a far cry from the man who had teased and propositioned her on Christmas. She knew he must hate being alone in such a gloomy house, a house he very clearly hated with all his being. She knew he must want Harry to stay with him, but Harry had to go back to school.
At first, she found it difficult to understand the sullen behavior. After all, he was an adult. Surely he should be able to understand that Harry's place was at Hogwarts. But after a while, Emma realized that Sirius being an adult wasn't as simple as all that.
He had been barely older than her when he had been taken to Azkaban, his life put on hold. He hadn't be particularly mature, based on the stories he and Professor Lupin had told her while she was there. In fact, much of the maturity he did have she attributed to his growing up in wartime, not to any act of natural growing up and becoming an adult. He was an adult not because he'd earned the right, but because it was required of him while he was still in his youth.
She felt a great deal of sympathy for him, in a way. She could picture Fred like that, under similar circumstances. After all, Fred was just a boy, forcing himself to grow up too quickly because he lived in a war. Only Fred had family to support him, people who could get him through it, and although Sirius had his best friends… it just wasn't quite the same thing. If something caused Fred to be taken off to jail in a few years' time, well, Emma could picture him coming out twelve years later with much the same maturity as Sirius.
There were only a few days left when she finally stopped Sirius in a corridor and said, "Sirius, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, sweet," he said, obviously lying.
"Don't lie to me," she whispered. "Something's bothering you and I don't want to leave this house without knowing you're going to be okay."
His face softened and he said quietly, "Sweet, I'm going to be just fine. I can't go into battle, remember? I'm probably the safest person in the whole bloody war."
"I don't mean physically," Emma said, frowning. "I mean something's wrong and I don't want to worry about you going crazy here or drinking yourself into madness or something."
Sirius sighed and said, "You're quite a girl, sweet. I don't like being alone. I don't like being locked in this house with all of its memories, and I don't like being apart from Harry. But there's really nothing you can do. Don't worry about me. Remus will drop in, keep an eye on me, and I get Order visitors pretty regularly."
"Promise me you won't do anything stupid?" she implored.
Sirius frowned, looking down at his hands. It was a lot to ask, Emma knew, from the stories she'd been told over the Christmas holiday of his escapades. He did stupid things like other people breathed. But she couldn't help, looking down at this shadow of a man, struggling to become what he should have been, and thinking how badly she wanted him to be safe.
"I'll do my best, sweet," he whispered, picking up her hand and kissing it gently. "You stay safe, you hear? Generally I wouldn't say this, but under the circumstances... Keep your nose clean."
She knew he was talking about Umbridge and not getting detention. Harry Potter wasn't talking about exactly what was going on in his detention, but she knew that it couldn't be good. There was nothing about Umbridge that was anything but terrible, including her fashion sense.
"I promise," she whispered, nodding. "I promise. I'm nobody, anyway. I don't draw a lot of attention to myself."
"Don't say that," Sirius said sadly, smiling. "You're far from nobody, sweet. Fred's a very lucky man."
Emma could feel herself blushing as she looked down at the dusty floor. She felt like the lucky one. Still, she nodded to comfort Sirius, who surely needed the comfort more than she needed to be assured that he knew the truth of the matter between her and Fred. He could think Fred was the lucky one all he wanted if he managed to keep himself alive.
"I'm worried about Fred and George," Emma admitted, more to herself than to Sirius, who just listened because she figured he felt he had to. "They're not interested in school to begin with, but with Umbridge making it so terrible..."
"What do you think they're going to do?" Sirius asked eagerly.
Emma bit her lip, considering. What would they do?
"I don't know," she sighed. "I mean, there are a few things keeping them wanting to stay, but once those things are gone..."
"Like what?"
"Oh, Quidditch, for one," she sighed. "When the Quidditch season's over..."
"George might leave," he whispered. Emma raised her eyebrows at him but he shrugged. "Sweet, I think you're underestimating the power you have over Fred to make him stay. If you don't want him to leave you, I firmly believe that he won't. Even if you give him your blessing, it will be hard enough for him to turn and go."
Emma gave a disbelieving, indulging sort of smile and said, "And you're such the expert because?"
"It's a long story," Sirius muttered, frowning down into his hands and then saying, "You should go to bed, sweet. You've got to be at the station bright and early tomorrow. Good night."
Without another word, Emma watched Sirius get up and leave her sitting alone in the kitchen, confused and hurt that he wouldn't tell her what was on his mind. Not the least bit tired, she made herself some tea and thought over his words, hoping he'd be up to see them off and that they wouldn't be his last words to her before she went back to school.
She was joined not far into her cup by a tired-looking Remus Lupin. He frowned at her slightly before making his own tea and sitting down across from her.
"You're still awake," he said conversationally, as though he'd just said that she'd worn her hair up, or that her lipstick was fading. Well, he probably wouldn't have said those things, but it was the manner her friends might have pointed out one of those things.
"I was talking to Sirius," Emma said with a casual shrug.
"About?"
"He said something... about Fred," she sighed. "He was talking about how Fred would stay no matter what if I asked, but how if I told him to go he would, whether or not he really wanted to leave... I'm sorry, that didn't make a lot of sense without the context, but... I just got the feeling he was speaking from experience. But when I asked, he just went to bed without explaining."
"Ah," Remus sighed. "Yes, that. Well, you're quite right. He... He lost someone, before Lily and James died. I don't expect he'd want to talk about it." He looked down at his tea, considering for a moment. "I will tell you that he blames himself for her death. He would have done anything she asked, and he did when she told him to go ahead and go on a mission with James. When he got back, the Dark Mark was over their house and she was dead on the floor. The Auror's said she'd only been gone an hour or so. He blamed himself for not staying in spite what she said, I know he did. Apparently, he still does."
Emma frowned down at her own tea, feeling a bit sick about the story. Somehow, she didn't think that staying at school while the boys left to follow their dreams would be the death of her, but what if something did happen? Would Fred feel unnecessarily guilty, too?
On the other hand, what if nothing happened at all, and she held him back from properly pursuing his dreams? Even if he didn't hate her for it like he ought to, Emma would have herself for having done such a terrible thing.
For her circumstances, she could let him go, for a little while, when the day came.
"That must have been terrible," she sighed, swallowing before dumping the last of her tea down her throat. "I suppose I ought to try for some sleep. We've got to be going bright and early tomorrow."
"Yes, we have," Remus said thoughtfully. "Good night, Miss-"
"It's Emma," she said quickly. "Please, just call me Emma."
He smiled up at her in a way she just knew had to be said and nodded.
"Of course, Emma."
She felt odd, crawling into bed that night, afraid to go back to Hogwarts for the first time.
The following morning, Emma found herself looking up into a pair of familiar eyes and a smiling, freckled face.
"Good morning, beautiful," Fred whispered. "C'mon, get up and get your things together or Mum's gonna do her nut. She's convinced that we're not going to make it on time, Knight Bus and all."
"We're taking the Knight Bus?" she groaned, dreading a repeat of the experience.
"Don't worry, love!" he laughed. "It won't be that bad. I'll cradle you the whole way, all right?"
Emma couldn't help but smile a bit at that suggestion, and she nodded.
"Thank you," she said softly, smiling up at him as best she could. He paused, though, realizing that something was bothering her and he sat down beside her, running his fingers gently through her hair.
"What's on your mind, love?" he asked softly. "Please, tell me."
Emma sighed, sitting up and taking his hand from her hair down to her cheek and holding her own over it. It felt good, feeling his gentle, callused hands on her skin as he moved his other hand to the other side.
"I love you," she whispered, closing her eyes to savor the feel of his fingertips on her skin. "I really want you to know that."
"I love you too," he muttered, concern in his voice as his lips lingered over hers. She could taste his breath and wanted so badly to kiss him. "But you're not answering my question."
She pressed her lips to his, ignoring his perfectly legitimate statement, getting lost in the taste of his lips, the electric tension between them as his tongue danced once more with hers. Nothing could happen to him. She didn't think she could do without this, this closeness, this passion, not now that she knew how incredible it felt.
He gave in to the kiss for a little while, but he was obviously not to be distracted long, pulling away despite her whimper of protest and saying, "Emma, please talk to me. You're scaring me."
Emma sighed, opening her eyes and looking up into his beautiful, freckled face.
"I'm just a bit paranoid, that's all," she whispered. "I've been spending too much time with the war veterans from when we were kids, you know, like Sirius and Remus, listening to old stories. I'm worried about you. I'm... I'm scared of losing you."
His eyes were about ten times sadder when she said it aloud and she wished in that moment she could have taken it back. A moment later, though, she couldn't complain because he pressed his lips urgently to hers again, his hands sliding down her face, down her chest, around her sides, pulling her body closer to his. She was basically gasping for air when they finally parted the kiss and he rested his forehead on hers.
"I'm not going anywhere, Emma," he whispered fiercely. "You're not going to lose me."
"Please don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered. "I... I don't want to hold you back, either."
"Emma, love, you'd never hold me back," he said with an uneasy chuckle. "C'mon, I don't think you want my mum to find us like this. Come down for breakfast. We're leaving soon. All right?"
She nodded, watching him go as she climbed out of bed, changed her clothes, and threw her pajamas into her trunk. With a sigh, she transported her trunk downstairs, headed to the kitchen for some quick breakfast, and then let Remus and Tonks order her around. She didn't need to think until she was curled up with Fred on the Knight Bus.
"How are you feeling?" he whispered. "Better?"
"Much," she sighed, nuzzling her face against his neck, pleased to feel Fred's arm around her as they lay on the bed. George wasn't being helpful, making kissy faces at them and gagging every time Fred kissed her, but as they didn't get chastised by a chaperone, Emma didn't pay any attention to who might be watching.
Fred made a point of taking care of her things as well as his as they hurried off to the train and settled in a compartment with George. Emma rested my head on Fred's shoulder and cuddled against him. It felt good to be virtually alone with him after so much time surrounded by people at Grimmauld Place.
George seemed to sense this and he muttered, "I reckon I ought to go find Lee," as he stumbled back out of the compartment. Almost as soon as the door closed behind him, Fred, turned to Emma with fire in his eyes that made her tingle with warmth almost instantly.
"Fred," she said, her voice shaking with excitement and anticipation as he made his way toward her, licking his lip a bit in a way she thought was probably subconscious, but definitely sexy.
"Emma," he growled, pulling her in for a kiss that was so much more desperate and passionate than the kiss they'd shared back at Grimmauld Place. Her worries, her inhibitions, it all melted away and she heard a distant sound that she realized after a moment was her moaning into his mouth. Fred pulled her onto his lap, having him straddle his legs, grabbing her bum and pulling their pelvises together, grinding up against her eagerly as their lips and tongues continued to explore each other. Emma could feel herself growing dizzy with lack of air.
Finally, she pulled away, gasping for air, and Fred's lips moved to her neck, nipping and sucking her skin and making her feel her desire and heat building. Without thinking about it, Emma's fingers began running through his silky red locks. She whimpered as his ground into her more forcefully, feeling how hard he was. How quickly they'd gone from sitting on a train with his brother to being absolutely lost to passion. Fred nibbled her neck lightly near the collarbone and her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling it slightly as Fred moaned against her skin.
"I love you," he whispered, running his fingers down her sides as his lips explored every bit of her skin he could reach. After a moment, though, he disappointed her by sighing and resting his forehead on her collarbone.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, running her fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to look up at her.
"You've been off all day," he sighed. "Something's really got you frazzled and it's scaring me."
Emma frowned.
Had she been so off that she had unknowingly behaved out-of-character while they were snogging? She didn't think so.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "What did I do?"
Fred didn't answer, just frowned at her. Finally, he sighed, "Emma, please just talk to me. Please just tell me what's got you all in bunch like this."
Emma nibbled her lip, not sure she wanted to share her conversations with Sirius and Remus, but she finally realized she couldn't withstand his pitiful expression and found herself telling him every word she could recall from the night before, lying down on the compartment seats facing him as she told her story and Fred listened, playing with her hair. When she finished talking he put his arm around her waist and pulled her in tighter against him.
"If it comes down to leaving," he whispered, "would you want me to stay?"
She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, pulling her forehead to his as she considered the things that had been on her mind since her talk with Sirius. Would she? What if Hogwarts had become so bad that she didn't think she could be without him? But what if nothing happened and she ended up keeping him from his dreams for no reason? She swallowed heavily as he whispered her name again as a prompt.
"I honestly don't know," she sighed. "There are so many factors that could come into play. I... Just promise me that you talk to me before you go if you can. If it does come down to that, I want to know that you aren't just going to make up your mind based on what you think is best for me, one way or the other. Please."
"Of course," Fred whispered, pressing his lips to hers. "Anything you want, love. Anything at all."
Emma wished she could have been able to count on that for anything, truly. But she knew that there were exceptions to every rule and no matter how much Fred loved her he would make mistakes. She'd seen everyone break promises they had every intention of keeping, even herself as terrible as it made her feel, and she knew Fred would be no exception, but as his lips kept assaulting hers, drowning her in passion, Emma didn't even want to think about how he might have to break that promise someday. Indeed, she couldn't have thought of anything at all if her life had depended on it, the moan rewarding his efforts proving how deeply he had her hooked.
