I do not own any characters or places unless stated otherwise.
Don't forget to leave a favourite, follow and review!
chapter twenty.
When Emilia was seven, she was stuck in the suffocating space of her mother's wardrobe for four days with only her mother's decaying body for company until someone finally rang the police because of the smell.
It hadn't been the first, and certainly not the last time, something like this had happened in her area; drugs, drink, and petty crime were rife, and Emilia had been no fool at that age to think it didn't permeate every corner of her life and so many others at that time, but it was easier to ignore it for a while. It was easy to ignore when the social workers would rip down the door of a school friend's home and it was easier to pretend when a deal gone wrong had resulted in a stabbing.
Others had it worse, that she was sure, and some had it better, much better, but it was life, her life. What difference did she know then? She had learned never to disturb her mother when she was sleeping, to return when the streetlights were off, never let the teachers ask questions (if they ever cared enough to) and never, ever talk back to adults.
After her father had left, her mother's drinking got worse; not as bad as her friend Timmy's father (Timmy later was taken away after he showed up at school with a split lip and a busted eye), but her mother wasn't a happy drunk. She cried a lot, would pet Emilia's hair, and tell her sorry for making her live life like this. Sometimes she would get angry, throwing bottles and wrecking the place and it scared Emilia when her Mummy was angry; once, by accident, her mother had thrown at bottle meant for the TV and it hit Emilia's on the back of the head from where she was lying on the ground.
Her mother cried more than she did, and it had been an accident, after all. She didn't make Emilia go into school for the rest of the week, so it had been a win-win situation.
Emilia didn't hold it against her mother, she was just having… a rough time, was all. Emilia never really blamed or hated her mother when she got angry because it wasn't really Emilia she was angry at; her father had left them, and their family was no help and her mother had to rear a child all by herself at such a young age. During the times when her mother was intoxicated by something other than alcohol, she used to brush Emilia's hair and tell her never to fall for older men or their lies about leaving their own family, such confessions that left Emilia feeling oft confused but never questioning.
Emilia wasn't sure if it was the man she missed or the memory of her father. She could barely remember him, so maybe it was just the envy and wanting that filled the void of where a father should be. That had soured and then mellowed over the years, but some part of her held onto the vaguest of ideas of her father, of dark hair and bright, green eyes.
The night her mother died was a Tuesday and she was not in a good mood. Emilia had shivered at the top of the stairs as her mother tore around the house in one of her tirades, drunk or high off of whatever it was she had managed to blow her money on, screaming curses as she tried to find the stash of cash that had gone missing earlier that evening after she brought another strange man home.
Emilia had not known at the time that it had been her mother's money and even if she had, she would not have said anything because speaking up against adults was asking for a bad time. He had told Emilia that she needed to keep quiet and not tell her Mum otherwise he would get very cross at her, so Emilia had done what she did best: she kept her mouth shut.
But as she listened to her mother's screeches, she wished she had.
Her mother had torn her hair out trying to find it, screaming at the top of her lungs, and leaving Emilia frightened because her mother had a habit of throwing things when she got mad, and Emilia really didn't fancy getting caught up in all of it.
Instead, she backed away from the mouth of the stairs and rushed into her mother's bedroom, hiding herself inside the old, small wardrobe that swallowed her up in darkness, barely able to save her ears from her mother's shouting for Emilia to stop hiding and to come out, her rampage bringing her upstairs and having her tear through the other rooms. Eventually, her mother began to dissolve into tears, telling Emilia that Mummy was very sorry and that she had not meant to lose her temper at her, and that she wouldn't yell if Emilia came out.
Emilia could never hate her Mum; it was just that sometimes she was scared of her, scared of when she drank, when she brought strange men home to the house, but most of all she was especially scared when her mother cried because her mother rarely ever cried.
And Emilia had stayed put, the confining space tight and cramping, leaving sore burns in her backs and arms as she peered out through the crack of the door, catching sight of her mother; she became uncontrollable, crying and choking on her sobs, barely able to see as she clawed at her throat before her foot caught on her tossed aside shoe and she fell, hitting her head off of the bedframe and falling limp to the ground on her back, faced away from Emilia.
Emilia had placed a hand to her mouth, trying to stop any sound coming from her mouth lest she wake her mother up and send her back into a bad mood, watching with fright as her mother lay still on the ground for a little while; her mother hated being woken up so Emilia stayed put, watching her mother's unmoving body, and trying to keep as still and silent as she possibly could.
She feared that she was not as quiet as she thought, watching her mother's body move and shake, making strange, strangled noises that sounded like half baked cries and Emilia watched as something spurt from her mother's mouth, turning away from the sight until there was no more noise and her mother had gone back to sleep.
It would only be for a few short hours and if her mother left the room, she could make a quick escape to her own and pretend she was there the entire time, hoping her mother's brain hurt too much to see through the lies.
So, Emilia elected to sit in the wardrobe until her mother decided to wake up, ignoring all the aches and pains the wood burned into her the longer she sat in the confining space of the darkness.
The first day and a half wasn't too hard to endure as she had fallen asleep for most of it and spent her time awake make shapes out of shadows in the dark and checking to see if her mother had woken up yet; the hunger kicked In by the time the second day had rolled around and she had already wet herself by that time, the mortification of realising she had peed herself like a baby being enough to send her into a fit of tears that stung her eyes and left her unable to breath, nose blocked and leaving her to draw in large gasps of air, air that tasted stale and was turning rank.
Her mother must have been really tired to not be woken by Emilia's sobbing or the smell of her wetting herself, which made Emilia all the more frightened to move in case her mother got mad at being disturb during much needed sleep and to save her from her mother's wrath, Emilia elected to stay in the small, dark hole until she woke up; the end of the third day brought the thirst and made the hunger worsen and she had wet herself yet again, the smell of it coupled with her own discomfort and tiredness making more tears well in her eyes, burning as they fell down her face as she tried to stay quiet.
She knew Mummy was going to be absolutely fuming when she woke up and saw that Emilia had wet herself and ruined her wardrobe and the thought of such a reaction had made her hands shake, though she didn't really know if it was from the fright or as a result of no food or water for nigh on four days.
By the fourth day, Emilia began to feel very scared; people had begun to ring the doorbell and knock at the door to no avail, and as much as she wanted to, Emilia couldn't leave to answer it because if her mummy found out that she was talking to strangers then she would be very cross with Emilia as she had told her time and time again that talking to strangers would lead to trouble, or worse: it would lead to Emilia being taken away from her mummy. Emilia knew it was true, she had seen so many other kids in the estate being dragged away by social workers and coppers time and time again, one after the other, never to be seen again.
What else was Emilia to do at such a tender age other than to do what she was told, remain where she was in the dark, sitting in her soiled pyjamas and starved? She was a good daughter, Emilia never did anything her mother said not to do and she would stay right where she was until her mother felt better enough to wake up.
The smell of something other than her own piss began to hit her by the end of the third day; it was a horrible smell, something that reminded Emilia of the time they had found a dead cat on the side of the road when coming home from school. It was a putrid smell and the cat had been run over, instantly killed with its guts flattened and eyes being covered in flies with maggots covering the carcass of its dead body and the smell of its rotting body had permeated the air, making one of the kids vomit near Emilia's shoes as she pinched her nose, gagging at the sight and stench of it.
It all came back to her, the dead cat, and it filled her nose even then as she sat in the wardrobe, suffocating her lungs with every breath she took and Emilia was sure that had her stomach not been completely empty of any food, it would have thrown up whatever was in it.
The fourth day came, and her mother still wasn't waking up and Emilia's vision was making monsters out of the darkness. She wanted her mummy to wake up and to open the doors because it was too scary in the dark and Emilia didn't care if Mummy was mad at her or would scream at her for making a mess or give her a smack, she just wanted out, but she was frozen to where she was, unable to move and the smell of the place only got worse and worse, choking Emilia, and stinging her eyes.
Then, in the middle of the night during the end of this torture, the front door was brought in, and voices filled the eerily quiet house; Emilia remained where she was, watching through the cracks as they entered the room where they found her mother lying in a pool of her own vomit, still fast asleep. Emilia wanted to warn them, to tell them her mother didn't like being woken up from her sleep, but her voice died in her throat, rusted, and buried at the bottom of her throat from being so unused those past few days, smothered into silence.
They were strangers, the kind of strangers Emilia's mother didn't like her talking to; Emilia watched as they pushed her mother onto her back, flashing lights around the dark room and it was then Emilia had seen her mother's wide eyes, open, staring at the ceiling as if she wasn't asleep.
As if she had been awake this entire time.
Emilia realised she must had let out a sound as she watched the doors finally open and someone reached down to scoop her up, not caring that she smelt of piss and was grimy from hiding in the dark, dank space for nearly a week.
It was only much later that they had told Emilia that her mother was dead, had been so for days, and she remembered how pale they turned when she explained to them that she had spent four days alone in that wardrobe, unknowingly having only her dead mother's body for company.
And even now, trapped in that damned storeroom that Filch probably used to keep all his cleaning supplies, Emilia could still smell that awful stench, the rotting, smothering smell that choked the fresh air from her lungs, trying to ignore the fact that it was her mother's decaying corpse that was drowning her from the depths of her memories, dragging her down with it.
It had petrified her, leaving her unable to breathe let alone call out for help as the darkness swallowed her whole, her lungs burning with a desire for fresh air that simply did not exist around her as it pushed whatever she managed to drag in immediately out of her chest; her hands were clawing at her chest, trying to burrow and find a way to her heart to calm it down and stop it from bursting in her chest but to no avail. Emilia felt she was seventeen going on seven, that she was back in that wardrobe surrounded by nothing but darkness and each wave of air was tainted by that disgusting smell.
At first, Emilia tried crouching down to see if she could reach her wand where Marina had left it, hoping she could managed to drag it in through the small gap but each attempt was met with instant failure; eventually, it resulted in Emilia in all but tearing her fingertips as she tried shoving her hands through the small gap under the door, wincing as her flesh became more and more tender and prone to breaking at any moment the more she tried.
The longer she remained in the darkness, the more her eyes were picking out shapes in the hazy darkness, making monsters out of shadows that Emilia swore she could feel prickling at her skin, grazing the back of her sweaty neck; the tears on her cheeks had long since dried, salty and unkind on her skin and stinging her eyes with each traitorous fall.
After all these years, of endless torment Emilia thought nothing more than being the culmination of kids simply being kids and picking on the weak, of picking on her because she had no friends or maybe she acted weird or was a loner, Marina's hatred ran so much deeper than that, borne all from her hatred over Emilia simply being a Muggleborn. It frightened Emilia beyond comprehension, that Marina Teagrass was just as bad as those – those cultists who believed in blood purity and the subjugation of wizards and witches like Emilia.
It had always been easy to say that all of that was over there and Emilia was so removed from it because she was over here but no more.
The safety of ignorance no longer could protect Emilia and the thought of having to even share a room with Marina made her stomach turn.
To Marina, Emilia was more than just an annoying gnat she couldn't seen to get rid of; she was a stain on the existence of the Wizarding World and Marina was only doing what was right to protect innocent purebloods from being tainted by the likes of Emilia.
To protect Sirius from being contaminated by Emilia's very own existence, from her status of being a fucking mudblood.
Emilia's knees eventually gave out from beneath her, falling onto the harsh, cool stone that did not welcome her, burning a bruise into her skin as she remained blind in the dark, hands scrambling around the open air around her that seemed to go on forever and ever, whispering over her skin, seeping into every breath she took as she found stone, ignoring the echo of her own shallow breathing that mocked her with each turn of the tide.
Emilia's back remained pressed to the wall, acting as an anchor to the sheer, vast nothingness around her, bringing her knees up to her chest, hoping that the smaller she was, the more likely of a chance she would have at being ignored by the monsters roaming their nightmarish territory. Her hands clasped themselves over her ears, eyes closing to a darkness of her own creation that made the one around her more bearable as stars exploded and died in her vision.
It was the silence that was the worst.
Endless, stretching on and on, making Emilia all too aware of her breathing, of her hammering heart that hurt in her chest, trapped beneath bone and panic and disgruntled that it was being worked overtime as fear felt like sludge through her veins, suffocating Emilia entirely.
But the silence around her was worse, all too like those four days of silence when she stared at her mother's dead body, no trace of air leaving or entering her deflated lungs. And now it was here again, completely encompassing Emilia's huddled form as she felt as trapped as she had been in that wardrobe, only a child who behaved far too old than how she was, and now Emilia felt all too much like a tall child, wishing and wanting for someone to come and find her, that they would throw open the doors and take her in their arms; but no one had come, no one had ever bothered to look for her back then. It had taken four days for someone to notice and even then it was only because the smell was starting to bother the neighbours.
Heaving breaths that seemed all too similar to sobs racked Emilia's body, trying to gulp in what she could but nothing seemed to sate the burn in her chest that was blooming, ashes filling in the space that would have welcomed air instead because she couldn't fucking breathe, curled into herself with her glistening forehead to her knees, sweat making her skin sticky as strands of hair felt all but stuck to her temple and throat. Emilia's hands crept from her ears to her scalp, nails leaving a trail of dents in her skin as they tore into her, threatening to tear her strands straight from the root until there was nothing left of her. Each breath she took felt like a stab to her throat, ripping straight down to her chest, prickling and filling each gulp with the taste of blood.
She was going to be left here, Marina didn't care if Emilia was going to pass out from the panic or if no one ever looked for her.
It could be hours, days, perhaps even weeks before someone would notice Emilia was gone or before Filch decided to open this one storeroom out of God knows how many.
Emilia could die here for all Marina cared.
Just one less mudblood to dirty the gene pool.
She tried focusing on the prickling pain of her nails digging into her scalp as a way to ground herself, hoping to control her erratic breathing but it became no use, the sweat on her hairline doing little to cool her down and Emilia felt sick, lightheaded that the ground beneath her seemed to rock beneath her in glee.
No magic, no nothing, Emilia felt as useless as she had been when she was seven, when she had been so fucking stupid and had let her mother die right in front of her.
Her nose was blocked from the crying, great shuddering breaths trying to cling onto the inside of her lungs to ease the ache forming in them and her eyes hurt from how much tears were being pulled from them, one after the other and it felt as soon as she got control of herself, it was torn from her, slipping from her fingers and she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe. It was too much, too suffocating and no amount of digging her nails into her tender flesh could bring her back to reality as her lungs squeezed out oxygen as quickly they forced it in, unable to make up their minds on whether they wanted Emilia alive or not and she was a slave to their will.
Her mind felt a tangled mess she couldn't fathom other than the fact she was alone and she couldn't stop the tears or the shuddering, scraping turning tides of air that pulled out as soon as shore was reached, not caring to linger and Emilia was sure if she had eaten, it would have been out on the floor before her.
Just like back then, no one was coming, she was going to die in here, rot away just like her mother had. And her mind was beginning to think it was better to the alternative of suffering like this, a moment caught in eternity.
Alone, she was alone, she would always be that little girl trapped in the wardrobe, helpless, useless, alone –
Then, a blur, light in her vision, spilling across her and bathing Emilia in it, chasing away the shadows into their dark corners once more in fear; warmth reached down to Emilia's curled up form and her eyelids hesitantly opened, tears escaping at the opening and making everything blurry as she readjusted her sight from the darkness, darting around to spot the light splitting in through the door, more gathering into the storeroom as the gap widened and there –
Standing looking down at her, one hand on the handle and the other gripping paper and two wands, was Sirius.
He looked as beautiful as he always did, bathed in the warm light of the candles, a furrow on his brow and it took him a moment to spot Emilia, crouched down on the wall and Emilia took notice of little else other than the boy in front of her; she wasn't sure if it was the light, the prospect of the door finally being open or the fact it was him, but a sob broke through her, nevertheless.
Her body felt weak as it finally began to work as it should have, chest heaving in the air around her, legs straight as she pushed herself to her feet and Sirius pulled the open the rest of the way, completely swarming their surroundings with a soft brightness and leaving no trace of the monsters that tormented Emilia for God knows how long she had been sitting in that darkness.
"Emilia?" Sirius asked, as if half afraid of the answer and Emilia didn't even care that he could see the redness of her cheeks, the splotchy canvas streaked with tears that seemed never ending as one after the other continued to fall. He had seen her cry before, but not like this, not so weak and ready to crack and let the string that held her together come undone. Sirius took a step forward, hands hovering and unsure of what to do as his eyes roamed over Emilia's shuddering form. "Emilia, what happ - ?"
He didn't even get to finish before Emilia all but flung herself at Sirius, arms wrapping around him and his foot moved back to steady himself from the sheer force of her body pressing itself against his, her eyes squeezed shut as she let herself hide in Sirius, clutching at his robes as if it were her last lifeline, all that stopped her from being dragged back into the never ending void.
Sirius remained still for a moment, as if she had shattered all parts of his mind to the four corners of the world before he put himself back together and then his arms were around her, warm and steady, holding her to him, keeping her there even though she would have refused to be torn from him had Heaven and Earth willed it. Sirius grounded her, his warmth quietening the panic in her veins, pumping straight to her heart as the feeling of him felt all too soft compared to the harsh stone that had been none too kind to her hands and knees. Each breath she took was filled with Sirius, mimicking his own and enveloping her lungs with the smell of his faint cologne, of something sweet and pine. It was gentle on her aches that had formed, pushing away the memory of the rotting stench back to the depths of her mind once more, burying them back into the ground where they belonged.
Sirius' arms were tight around her, so tight it felt like he was sticking her back together again, that the cracks and tears in her didn't exist anymore and his hand went to her hair, where her own were no where near as gentle as his touch was, admonishing Emilia for her brutality towards herself. Her sobs were soothed, lulled away and Emilia hoped he wouldn't be too annoyed about the tear stains on his jumper. If she was holding him too tight, he gave no objections to it, returning her grip to the same degree and making Emilia feel as if she wasn't going to crumble into dust because of how solid he made her feel, that she wasn't going to be taken away by the static ocean of her own fear.
Emilia couldn't remember the last time she had hugged someone, or vice versa; it must have been years at this point, and it had never bothered her, she had never thought about how sad it must sound to outsides and her arms began to ache from the alien feel of it all, how foreign it felt to be so utterly wrapped up in the existence of someone else, how it felt like her own was being so carefully cradled.
And as she stood here, holding onto Sirius as tightly as he was holding onto hers, Emilia wondered how she had gone so many years without it.
Emilia had all but forgotten about Marina, about the cupboard and the darkness and the horrible memories of being trapped in that wardrobe for four days. But Sirius was worried, he was holding her but his voice was soft in her ear, head bent down so she could hear him as his arms continued their embrace of her, and he was trying to bring her out of her stupor. "Emilia, are you okay? Talk to me, did something happen?"
Her mind caught up to herself, slowly but surely back down to reality as his question seeped into her mind, and now was not the time to fall apart. She needed to be calm, cool, collected and not let her emotions get the better of her again, taking one last breath before her arms grew limp, dropping from where they held Sirius and she took a step away, Sirius' own arms trying to tug her back briefly before he accepted her need for space but there was still the lingering moments of reluctance as they grew apart.
Finally, air flowed between their departed bodies as Emilia felt the calm after the storm settling into her bones, making her aware of the ache left behind in her shoulders from where Tamara had pulled her, the puffiness of her eyes and the knot in her stomach from hunger; how long was she in there for? It felt like both eternity and nothing while trapped, but obviously long enough if the beginnings of starvation were creeping in on her.
She must have looked a mess: bloodshot, wet eyes and splotched, red cheeks with tracks of tears trailing down them and Emilia could see it in Sirius' eyes that he was waiting for her to say something, to let it all gush out of her.
And she might have, if she had the energy.
But Emilia felt so tired after all that crying and struggling that all she wanted was to go to bed, not to spill her sob story to Sirius.
Her hands went to her hair, smoothing it down and slipping some behind her ear, clearing her throat from the lump that had been choking her prior, feeling all too sheepish but forcing herself to look into Sirius' eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"
Something about him looked spooked, or maybe he was worried, because his features remained taut and unmoving but his eyes were all telling, widened enough so she could see the whites of them. He savoured his words, as if he was trying not to scare her off. "It's alright. You look like you needed it."
Emilia had needed it, probably still did, but she took to fiddling with her robes, hands clutching a fistful at either side as she tried to switch the tense atmosphere all the while Sirius kept staring into her gleaming eyes. He had never seen her cry, not like this, and she didn't blame Sirius if it made him uncomfortable.
Maybe that was why she was trying so desperately to make everything seem normal when it was so evidently not.
"How did you find me?" Emilia asked casually, ignoring how her voice sounded a little worse for wear.
"You weren't at the feast. I couldn't find you, no one could," Sirius explained coolly, as if he were treading on thin ice. Emilia wanted to snap at him that she wasn't fragile and wasn't going to burst back into tears again but she wouldn't even believe her own words if she had. A wince cracked across Emilia's face at the fact her absence had been long since noted by Sirius; guilt begin to swam within her when remembering how she thought no one would ever notice her gone. "No one knew where you were."
Emilia wasn't surprised, but it left her feeling even more glum about her situation and her stomach reiterated the feeling, a pang going through her. Once, she could go so long without food but that used to be a memory Emilia thought she would never taste again. Feeling the hunger brought all those uneasy feelings back and she felt helpless. "The feast is over?"
"For over an hour," he confirmed, tight lipped and Emilia could see he was on the precipice of something, of asking what happened, of pushing for answers and demanding to know what happened but Sirius was taking his sweet time and Emilia wasn't sure if she liked this tactic of his; part of her just wanted it to be over and to be in bed again. His spine straightened as if he recalled something. "Your wand was outside."
Concern over the most precious thing to her spiked in Emilia's chest as she wildly looked around on the ground and patted her pockets as if it had somehow reappeared in her pocket after God knows how long of being left outside. "Where is it? My wand."
Sirius' hand rested on Emilia's upper arm, drawing a halt to her searching as he held the other hand out to her where her own wand lay resting next to his in his palm, the sight of it calming her down instantly to the point she thought she might entirely collapse to the ground with relief. "Here, it was on the ground, almost missed it from how it was jammed underneath the door."
Her throat felt dry as she reached a hand up to take it from Sirius' possession to finally have it back in hers, what courage she had finally eased away on her, her eyes falling down as she took her hand back and deposited her wand back into her pockets once more. "Thank you."
And Sirius does not speak.
When Sirius does not speak, it unsettles Emilia.
She didn't want to look up at him for fear of finding something she did not want to find there lingering in his features; disappointment, annoyance perhaps, sick of her not being upfront with him about these things. Or maybe sick of having to deal with her sudden change in emotions.
Then -
"Emilia," Sirius began, his voice cold and curt, sharp enough to slice through whatever meagre front Emilia tried wearing as her hands began to wring themselves together again, that nasty old habit kicking up again as she felt all too much like a child being scolded by a frustrated parent. Sirius kept his distance, not looming down on her to gain a foot up in this conversation as her aunt often did to intimidate Emilia but she still felt his shadow, long and crushing as he tried to knead any answer from her. "What happened?"
Her tongue was frayed from tying itself into knots as she gave a brief glance over her shoulder, trying to appear nonchalant but knowing she failed, nonetheless. How Sirius managed to praise her acting skills once upon a time so long ago, Emilia would never know. "The door, it locked on me."
She could imagine his eye twitching with irritation as he tried to get her to talk, which was less successful than drawing blood from a stone. Normally, Sirius could charm anyone to do anything, and Emilia wondered if he was mad at her for not telling the truth or annoyed at himself for not being up to his usually standard. "How?"
"It was an accident," Emilia threw out with little care, knowing that the truth was at the back of her mouth but could not push it forward, as if something was stopping her from telling him, as if Marina was right behind her stopping the words with her manicured hand.
"But how?" Sirius stressed, grinding his words and this time Emilia got the courage to look up into his eyes however much she wanted to cower away. His grey eyes were like stone, unreadable and hard as he stared down at her, darting across her face for a crack in her façade, and while there were many, there were none that ran deep enough to make her shatter completely.
"I told you, an accident." Her voice was stronger this time and her face felt like it was regaining its normal temperature after spending so long weeping and crying, cheeks dry and eyes no longer simmering.
"You're hiding something from me," Sirius stated, so sure of himself as he took a step back away from her, trying to distance himself and put what little space he could between them without leaving her entirely. It hurt Emilia, knowing that he was hurt she was hiding something. "Why?"
What could she say to him? What good would telling Sirius do? He couldn't be with her all the time, not in the girls dorm or the bathroom or the classes that they didn't have together. It wasn't that she didn't trust Sirius, not that she didn't think he wouldn't try to help her but there was a small voice hidden in the depths of Emilia's mind that made her worry about what he might do to Marina if he found out the truth.
Emilia wasn't worried for Marina, not in the slightest; in fact, if Marina fell off the Astronomy Tower the next morning, Emilia knew she would feel no grief or sorrow over her bully's death. But Emilia knew Marina was too vain to commit suicide, and Sirius would never do such a thing, but she did know that Sirius would take it too far; public intimidation, perhaps threatening or doing to Marina what he did to those two Slytherins and it might work for a while, but then what? What if Marina came back at Emilia worse than ever? What if she decided to be the one to take it too far and Emilia would be the one whose insides were splattered all over the ground from being pushed to the Astronomy Tower?
Before today, Emilia thought Marina would never be so callous and cruel.
But before today, she had never called Emilia mudblood and a stain on the Wizarding world.
Sirius couldn't be around Emilia all the time, it was a fact that Sirius ignored even when it was hitting him square between the eyes. Why he did, Emilia didn't bother to understand but she knew her situation would only worsen if he were to interfere.
But Emilia imagined if he did stand up for her. She imagined him calling out Marina for her disgusting views, how she would be the outcast of Gryffindor with only her two friends and her Slytherin pals for company, how she would never think about even breathing in Emilia's direction ever again. Emilia imagined that kind of life and never realised just how much of an exhausting toll Marina's bullying took; having to check the bed every night, her trunk for mice and other rodents, making sure to have everything either hidden or under lock and key so they wouldn't go missing or be destroyed.
So, maybe Marina would leave her alone and maybe Emilia could actually start enjoying her last year of school.
But, then what? Where else would Marina turn to for her amusement? Emilia imagined some First Year, cornered by Marina as she hissed at them that they were a mudblood, unnatural and unwanted and all that was wrong in the Wizarding world. Someone's daughter, son, their sister or brother who don't know any better because they didn't have to deal with Marina's endless taunting and torture for years on end to grow numb to it and never take it to heart. Someone that Marina could gang up on easily and make their life a living Hell for her last year in school, could instruct others to keep bullying for years to come.
And now Emilia knew she didn't choose her targets specifically, only if they fit one criteria.
Maybe that First Year didn't have a Sirius Black to turn to, a friend that they could escape with and pretend all that bullying never happened and that it didn't bother them. Marina had been at this for seven, long brutal years now and Emilia had unfortunately grown accustomed to it; did she deserve it? No, Emilia realised she didn't. With how Sirius treated her, Emilia had grown to understand she didn't deserve to be treated like how Marina made her feel like she should be.
But not everyone was like Emilia, not everyone had to get used to being treated like they were nothing more than pure dirt. If not Emilia, then who? And Emilia didn't like how open that question was; no, the answer she knew was that after all these years, she might as well become a martyr.
"Sirius…" Emilia began, not even sure where to begin but he didn't want to hear it, jaw tightening and now Emilia could see it clear in his face, expression twisting and his eyes lost some of their stony look to them, melting as he no longer felt able to hide his emotions from the surface.
"We shouldn't keep secrets from each other," Sirius said and it made Emilia falter, an ache in her chest as she stared at him, trying to comprehend the depth of his words. To keep others safe, she was hurting him and it made her chest feel tight, as if something was crushing it.
She shook her head, a pleading look in her eyes. Emilia feared he would have enough of her and decide that it, she, was not worth all this effort and emotional turmoil. "I'm not lying to you."
"I didn't say lie," Sirius snapped back, and Emilia held her tongue from responding because she knew he was right and saying anything after would be actively proving that she was not telling the truth and proving he was right. He stared at Emilia for a moment, to her eyes, to the dried tears on her pale cheeks, and she could see something in Sirius gaze, as if he was actively trying to put it together like some Nancy Drew. "Whatever happened, it was enough to make you cry."
Her arms wrapped around her torso, as if trying to hide from him. "I would prefer not to – "
"Why were you crying, Emilia?" Sirius asked softly, as if her prickly attitude was only just proving him right and making him drive on with his assumptions. "Did someone do something to you?"
"If I said yes, what would you do? Beat them up? Hex them?" Emilia snapped, though her bite wasn't all that in it. She felt tired and wanted to go to bed, wanted morning to come so she could finally have some food but Sirius wasn't going to let it slide tonight and Emilia knew that; he was going to get to the bottom of it whether Emilia liked it or not. "It won't do anything."
He crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking Emilia but it was all so different; whereas she was trying to retreat into herself, his stance was assertive, proving he was just as stubborn as he ever was. "So? It'll give them a taste of their own medicine."
"Then they'll just do the same to someone else, some First Year who can't stand up for themselves."
That made Sirius perk up and Emilia bit her tongue because the temptation of letting it all slip out was getting too hard to resist and something flashed across his handsome face, like lightening in the dark but she caught it, seeing it morph his features into something cold – anger, fury perhaps and Emilia remembered how she never wanted to get on Sirius' wrong side. A silent Sirius might be scary, but a furious Sirius was frightening. "So someone did do something."
Her silence seemed to be all the confirmation that Sirius needed and she deliberated on her words f for a moment; already Emilia knew that she was right in her previous worries about how Sirius might react at the truth so soon after finding her in such a state and she wondered if she could only just delay the inevitable at a time when she wasn't still sniffling from her Godawful crying and hungry from having missed dinner.
It wasn't lying or keeping secrets if she was eventually going to tell him, it was just that tonight didn't suit her best to launch into her entire life story to Sirius, not when she was in such a state and in he in such a rage.
"Sirius," Emilia began calmly, taking a deep breath and swallowing her apprehension. "I don't want to keep secrets from you, or lie to you. I respect you too much for that. But I also want to deal with things by myself."
Sirius rolled his eyes at that, none too convinced at her insistence. "By suffering in silence?"
A watery smile appeared on her lips. "I'm not trying to be a martyr."
Sirius gave a grunt and looked off too the side, as if the sight of Emilia was too much to bear. She still felt all too aware of the distance between them. "It seems like it."
"Maybe," Emilia nodded, gulping down her rising anxiety that heightened her already frayed emotions as she tried not to think about how it felt to be locked in the dark, how lost and alone and scared she was until Sirius came along. Before him, she might have had to gone through hours of such an ordeal and then convince herself afterwards that it wasn't as bad as she was trying to make it out to be. "But I dealt with these things long before I met you and it never broke me."
A huff of air left Sirius as he continued staring off into the distance for a short while before a sigh bled through his parted mouth, arms dropping and shoulders sagging in reluctance defeat as he turned back to Emilia, eyebrows knitted together before he took a step closer and then another before they were nearly touching. Emilia could still recall how the hug had felt and tried to push it from her mind as Sirius lifted both his hands to rest on her shoulders before slipping down to her upper arms, looking down at her in a pleading way, one last chance to tell him. "It's not weak to ask for help, Emilia."
Emilia stared into his eyes, so ready, willing and wanting to tell him but held herself back; not here, not now, not when she was so tired and at her wits ends but in the future, near or far. For all she knew, maybe Marina was freaking out over the fact people knew Emilia was missing and would be too spooked to even go near her ever again.
But Emilia would tell Sirius, just not when she was still suffering from the after shocks of a panic attack.
"I know," she said, his hands warm through her clothes and burning straight through to her skin, making Emilia wonder if he had left a hole in the material that was in the shape of his hands. "I just… I don't want to start crying again."
His stare remained for a heartbeat then he finally accepted defeat, tension leaving him and Emilia gazed up at him, trying to discern what was warping his face but it was all hidden away too fast for her to pick apart a single emotion that she could name. Sirius gave her a squeeze before he retracted his hands, taking a half step back and giving a lame nod. "Fine. I just want to make sure you're okay."
"I am okay." Emilia wasn't sure if she was trying to convince Sirius or herself with her words.
Sirius gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Liar, but I won't pry if that's what you want."
And he didn't, he let the silence settle between them as if he accepted that Emilia would speak no more on the topic and she knew she wouldn't, not for tonight at least, but even despite the fact he had abided by her wishes, guilt arose and ate away at Emilia, stomach knotted and frayed. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she realised that she had hurt Sirius by not being forthcoming, even if she was inwardly promising herself she would tell him the truth when she was more comfortable and stable.
Would this be it? Would this be the final nail in the coffin and be the reason he stops being friends with her? The fear at such a thought gripped Emilia, heart leaping in her through and that horrible stinging in her eyes returned, cursing the feeling as she had hoped it was worn to the bone after all her weeping and wailing from this evening. But Sirius took to staring at the ground, hands in his pockets and she cursed herself for not being able to take that final leap and just tell him.
Would he wake up tomorrow and go back to pretending she didn't exist? Would he no longer sit beside her in class, look to her or even acknowledge her existence? Such thoughts prompted Emilia to speak up.
"Please don't be mad at me," Emilia blurted out, unable to stop herself before her voice already spoke.
Sirius looked to her, head cocked to the side and making a stray curl tumble across his forehead, looking like ink in the candlelight. "What?"
"You're mad at me, or annoyed," Emilia carried on, rambling and her hands were already aching from how she was wringing them together once more, trying to ease the tension that felt like sludge choking her veins. "Or both. I'm sorry. I wish I was better at this."
"What?" he echoed, brows drawing a crease in the space between them before her words and her clear nervousness sank in and his eyes widened as he rushed to shoot down her worry. "Emilia, no, I'm not mad. Not at you."
"But you are mad?"
"I'm not stupid," Sirius grumbled, but his voice held no contention or anger at Emilia, reassuring her that her fear was very much not true.
Her eyes remained on him, wondering how it was anyone would think Sirius was stupid; not just in academic terms, but in any aspect. If anything, Emilia would say she was the stupid one in this friendship with how unknowledgeable she was about so much before he came alone – not that she would ever tell him that. Just because there was a lot she learned from him didn't mean she had to start bowing down and calling him master. The thought nearly made her gag. But Sirius glared down at the ground, as if hurt by the reminder Emilia had not opened up to him. "I know you're not."
Her voice was soft and Sirius gaze turned to her, staring at Emilia for a moment, as if he couldn't believe the words even left her mouth in the first place and the longer his eyes were on her, that familiar heat in her cheeks began to make a reappearance
"Right, well, since you missed the feast, you must be hungry."
"I guess," Emilia said with a shrug, despondent and resigned to her fate, though knowing the sooner she went to bed, the sooner she would be asleep and be in time for breakfast. "I'll have to wait until morning. Nothing we can do."
Sirius stayed silence for a moment before a smile began to carve its way onto his lips, all straight white teeth shining as a sneaky look began to glimmer in his eyes, mirroring the Sirius that she knew all too well and often trusted too much for her own good. "You sure about that?"
Emilia stared up at him in confusion, wondering if he was pulling her leg again or if this was going to be another one of his tricks to get her to tag along with him, eyes narrowing as she tried not to let logical thinking give way to her hungry stomach. The thought of curfew never even crossed her mind, and Emilia knew that she was spending far too much time around Sirius. "What do you mean?"
A smile on his mouth turned brighter and shined in his eyes. "You trust me?"
"Yes."
And she meant it.
hello, hello! Before I get into me A/N, I would like to answer a few of your reviews!
Guest: thank you so much! i hope u enjoyed this new chapter as well!
StayStrong26: i feel so bad for making emilia suffer but it's for the plot so just go with the flow baby. thank u for the support and all the love! and don't worry, i wont abandon this story! i might post three chapters in three weeks or one in three weeks, but i wont abandon the story!
Blondie 24-7: i hope i didn't leave you hanging for too long! if its any consolation i was kicking my own butt for not writing more when i could but i finally got here in the end! and there'll be some fluff and cute stuff in the next few chapters to make up for such a long wait!
Staocalocin: and your wish is my desire, i hope you enjoy this chapter!
OryxGreen: hcdnoewahfociawejfoiae thank u so much! im so sorry for making you wait so long for an update, i always love reader feedback and not being able to update made me so upset! reading your comment makes my day every time i get the notif! im so happy that everyone can see how much emilia has changed, i always worried that with it being 20 chapters in that she's not having this massive sudden change but im so glad everyone can see the change reflected in emilia already! i really wanted it to be a slow to get there change but fast once it happens. there'll be some hiccups but not many and not for long, but that's how every journey is. as for peter... im just going to say he's going to have a part to play in sirius and emilia's relationship and not for the best. and you'll be surprised to know i have the exact ending and epilogue planned out, i just have to grind to get there! thank you so much for all your constant love and support, i always came back to read your comments and reviews while bedridden these past few weeks and they made everything so much better! i hope this chapter meets your expectations!
megancl99: thank you so much! i really loved writing sirius and emilia's little reunion in this chapter and it was very much needed and long awaited - baby steps i supposed. i hope you enjoy!
Kaiya's Watergarden: thank you! i hope you enjoy this chapter!
LoveFiction.2021: i really wanted to give Marina more layers than just being a petty villain; she's that level deeper of evil that i really wanted to utilise and help make her less one dimensional. hope you enjoy this chapter too!
sinxical: thank you! im glad you enjoy their relationship, i really wanted to give a strong foundation to their relationship than just pure attraction and i wanted them to show all sides of themselves before accepting each others love, so yeah this is going to be quite the slow burn in terms of actually getting together. hope u continue to support the story!
scars from the sun: thank you so much! i hope this chapter wont make you feel claustrophobic too, i wanted to capture her anxiety and fears and lay them all out before both the readers and emilia as shes been suppressing them for almost all her life. i hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
Gwenaria1: hoaiehfao thank u so much! im so glad you enjoyed! i hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
jjkrainy: thank you so much, i hope this chapter met your expectations!
Guest: thank you so much! i love writing sirius and emilia's relationship as well as the marauders as well! i just love focusing on the personal aspect of this story instead of worldbuilding and i just love being in emilias head and her emotions because theyre so different to mine yet so similar as well, you know? maybe its because ive been writing from her pov for nearly 200k words and i feel like shes a part of me now lol. i hope you enjoy this chapter!
(this chapter is not yet proofread but i will return in the very near future to edit it so please ignore/excuse any mistakes and errors for now)
Hello, sorry for the delay!
So like I've been struggling with my health for the past few weeks :^( I got both laryngitis AND tonsilitis one after the other with only a few days in between when I thought I was ok so I was bedridden for nearly three weeks.
Since ive not been in uni ive been doing make up and working extra hard on assignments but I have a small break before my next batch of assignments are due and I got this done!
Maybe it's the change in weather but my immune system has just went kaput this past month and it sucks. still suffering from tonsillitis and a cough atm so it really is not my month lol
anyways! this is a very emotional and trauma heavy chapter, so the next few chapters are going to be more light. hint: can you have two first dates?
song of choice while writing: punisher by phoebe bridgers
Thanks for reading!
