AN: My goodness, this couple of weeks has been crazy...I'm so sorry for the late update...I finished Act One (yes, I do believe there are two acts...) and the next act will be awesome. Nothing yet on the happiness fluffiness scale of your normal-romance, but this just isn't a normal romance. On a small, short note, I'm learning Harry Potter in my piano lessons. I'm currently working on Hogwarts Forever! and the G Major scale. Awesome song, that is. Also, next week I think either Quidditch or Hedwig's Flight (is that the title? I'm not thinking straight, I'm sick) but nonetheless, it's on the piano and I totally am so happy for doing this (my god, I sound like a blonde)...
Email really bites, I've gotten a lot of it. But, I do enjoy the "gee I loved your story") HINT and I just wanted to let you know HINT HINT I do enjoy a review every now and then HINT HINT
ENJOY~ you earned this
Chapter Six: Hold It Up And Just Pretend
Emilia walked through the halls quickly, hearing her steps echo off the cold stone floors and bounce off the castle walls. Minerva went to Dumbledore...and Severus...she didn't know what to think to that. It kind of made her mad. He could be so mean to her, then do whatever he supposedly done to her. What were his intentions?
Emilia stopped, and leaned up against the wall. She crossed her arms, and heaved a sigh. She needed a break from all of this, and Christmas holiday starting next Friday can't come fast enough. Then there was the fact that she was supposed to work with him all next week. She could hear evident cheers ring out from the Great Hall. Dumbledore must have made the announcement about the Yule Ball. Oh, yes, and that too.
She felt so overwhelmed. She had half a mind to walk up to Dumbledore and ask him if he would like another, more suitable assistant to Snape, for that batch of Pepper-Up Potions. Just because she had a decent talent in the subject...perhaps a seventh year could do an internship, she supposed. She leaned away from the wall.
"Emilia!" a voice called curtly, and she whipped her head around to see Minerva. "What's the matter?"
She looked at Minerva with an evident glare on her face. "How could you?" she said softly. Emilia was still furious about what she had overheard. "Did you?" she said, before Minerva could answer. "Did you run to Dumbledore?"
Minerva looked away quickly, as if she heard a noise. Looking up, she had a stern look on her face. "I thought you could use some help. Severus was being such a dolt towards you, I figured that dropping a word to Albus couldn't hurt. And when you talk to me, it looked like you were obviously disliking it, but had too much pride to tell Albus."
Emilia jaw dropped. "I didn't need any help, Minerva. I can handle people like that; I have handled them my entire life! If it were starting to get annoying, or just plain rude, I would have gone to Dumbledore myself. I trusted you," she added, narrowing her eyes angrily.
Minerva opened her mouth then closed it. She opened it again, and said, "I was just trying to be your friend--"
"You acted more like my mother, Minerva," she snapped. "I could have handled this on my own." Emilia turned her back to Minerva and walked quickly away. She didn't want to participate in any more conversation with that traitor. She ran to Dumbledore without even asking whether or not she wanted to talk to him. She could have really handled it; she had been for the previous three months school had been in session. She's handled in all of her twenty-seven years! What's one more to deal with? She felt that her trust in people was severely wounded. Emilia finally found someone who didn't like her because she was possible Death Eater material--a true friend that she didn't have to worry about endangering. Now she just lost her.
"Pro-Professor Black?" a timid voice said from the corner. Turning her head sharply, she saw a first year step away from the wall. It was a young boy, with jet-black untidy hair and a short stature. He looked up at her, and kept moving his hands from an enclosed fist to clasping them together.
"Yes?" she replied. Quite frankly, she had no idea what this little boy's name was--or even who he is. She has seen him in her classes, but he was probably one of the quiet ones. She saw from his robes that the crest of Slytherin was bared on them, albeit, not proudly.
"I...I need to ask you a question. I want to know if the rumors are true," he said, a bit more daringly. She heard muffled voices, then silence. Turning her head slightly, she glanced beyond him in the darkness. She supposed he wasn't alone. "Do you...have something for our Potions master?"
Emilia looked at him with large green eyes, and then she clenched her fist. "Absolutely not," she said tersely. Suddenly, she remembered his name, like she should have known it all along. "I don't know what gave you that idea at all. Faculty fraternizing is strictly prohibited, Mr. King."
He smiled slyly. "My friend saw you two down in the dungeon today, Professor Black."
Emilia tried hard not to go off on this kid, and slap him across the face. "Your friend did?" she said casually. She had nothing to worry about; by all means, she would never be caught dead with the likes of him. She looked around; her eyes darted this way and that. She knew his friends were in an invisibility cloak. If she caught them, it would serve them right. Suddenly, just as she heard if before, muffled noises to the right of him.
"Stop right there," she snapped, and reached out her hand--most accurately. She ripped the material off of them, and saw three boys standing there, trying to sneak off. Holding the cloak in her hands, she narrowed her eyes at them. "I don't know what you are playing at, but this is the big league, boys. All of you now have a detention, and 50 points from Slytherin."
The little boy, King, looked up at her quickly. "You can't do that!" he squealed.
"Each," she added, still gripping the cloak. "Any more talk and it'll be a week's worth of detentions. This cloak here," she held up the softly colored green cloak, shaking it in her hands, "is also hereby confiscated. And you four shall be having a chat with the Headmaster, as well."
Each one of them gave a glance at the other: all of them had a bit of a smirk on their faces. Emilia's stomach plummeted. "You think this funny, don't you?" she snapped, glaring at each one of them.
"No, Professor. Just that...like you said, fraternization between faculty is forbidden. What would we tell Dumbledore?"
"It's Professor Dumbledore to you, and pray tell, what would you tell him?" she said sarcastically.
The boy that held her up stepped forward defiantly. "I saw you and Professor Snape. He was holding you--on the floor." He smirked at her. Emilia smiled right back.
"And how long did you see this? One who makes assumptions is destined to be wrong," she said softly, draping the cloak on her arm slowly. She walked to the other side of them, and stopped. "Well?"
"I...only saw you for a moment," he said hastily, "but it was enough to tell." He stood up straight.
"You...are first years, correct?" she said airily, draping the cloak on her other arm. "Do you know the punishment for blackmailing a teacher? Or attempting to? It's not against school rules," she added, "it's against the law." She stared at each and every one of them. "I know where you're going with this, gentlemen. Don't try my patience."
"Patience...isn't that a Gryffindor virtue? I heard you went to school here, too..." one of them spoke up.
"What are you implying?" she snarled. "I was in Gryffindor? I should think not," she paused, and laughed haughtily, looking at their surprised faces.
"Then what house were you in?" another one said, narrowing his eyes accusingly.
"Slytherin, gentlemen. Now, enough idle chit chat, I'm certain Professor Dumbledore could use something to do about now." She smiled as the color drained from their faces. "And, my dears, I'm sure to say one or two of you shall faint within your lifetimes..." she added, almost trying to say, "It wasn't what it looked like."
She led them to Dumbledore's office; dinner had let out quite some time ago. "Sugar Quill," she said, and the gargoyle sprang aside. She walked up to his room, and knocked on the door.
"Come in," he said, from the other side.
Emilia opened the door, and the four of them filed in. She looked up, and saw that Snape was standing there, with a look of question on his face. "Just a moment of your time, Professor Dumbledore," she said quietly. "These students are charged with harassing a teacher and attempting blackmailing. Not only that, but they have this in their possession," she said, holding up the cloak.
"What are my students doing here?" said Snape, bristling. "This is the second time today you've brought students to me like this." His black eyes narrowed.
"I would have taken them to you," she replied, "but I thought harassing and blackmailing were a bit above you."
She walked out, and she heard Snape say softly, "Good day, Headmaster." He soon was right behind her. "What was that all about?" he snapped, walking quickly next to her.
"What was what all about? Those boys?" she sneered, stopping in her tracks. "I don't know, ask them." She was still extremely angry from before. What exactly did Minerva mean by that line...? "...How could you do that to her? You didn't even ask if she--" Curious, she thought angrily. "Or do you mean me walking out of the Great Hall?"
Snape looked her up and down, trying to figure out what she meant. "Both," he said sharply.
"Well, for one, those boys were trying to harass me, and blackmail me," she said simply. "They saw you holding me in the dungeons...my goodness, doesn't that sound like a really horrid romance novel," she added as an afterthought, a bit quietly. "Anyway, they assumed that you and I have a `thing'. I told them off, of course," she was even quieter there. "Now, for the Great Hall, that simply was just Minerva, albeit you do have something there."
Snape was quiet for a moment, trying to decipher what she had just said...about them. The students asking questions and all--curious. "What else was there?"
"Minerva said something about how could you, and something about how you didn't ask," she said, her eyes flashing. "What did she mean, Severus? Was there something else? I can't remember that time period down there..." her voice trailed off, and she took a step back. Emilia felt sick to her stomach.
"Why, though?" she mused out loud. She was still thinking about the fact that those boys had assumed...what made them jump to that conclusion so quickly? After all they have seen and heard her say, they still think that she could ever possibly be...that way? Or was it Slytherin antics?
"Are you paying attention?" he snapped at her, bringing her out of her thoughts. He stood before her, his hands on his hips, glaring at her.
"Er, what?" she said slowly, trying to guess what he had said. "My mind was elsewhere, pardon me," she said, crossing her arms.
"I was saying that whatever you heard Minerva and myself talking about is none of your concern. After all, like someone wise once said, `Assumptions lead to the biggest mistakes', although I think his words were a bit different," he said, a bit annoyed to have himself repeated. "You didn't eat dinner, either."
Emilia glared at him. "Didn't know you cared, Severus," she said sarcastically.
He sneered at her. "I don't care, I was just saying something more should have annoyed you if you didn't eat," said Snape, almost but not quite satirical. "Anyway, I have other things to attend to," he finished, and started to walk away. Emilia bit her lip.
"Severus, you don't suppose you know the way into the kitchens? Thinking about it, I really am hungry," she said. Her stomach had this gnawing feeling in it. "Those potions definitely aren't quite what I'm used to."
"Speaking of which," he said, turning slowly around, "I do need to have another look at that shoulder. The bruise should be gone," he said, seeing Emilia's bewilderment, "but I want to make sure there isn't...any more damage. I must admit, this is the first time I've hurt someone...outside using my wand."
Emilia blinked. He was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Shouldn't he be used to that sort of thing by now? She was still confused...he acted almost concerned about her shoulder. Was he really that surprised that he had the ability to do that, or was he truly sorry? Or...was it...? No. Couldn't be. He wouldn't be afraid of her running to her father...and saying a fellow Death Eater of his hurt her...rather unusual, unless his loyalty was wavering...or had it already?
Interesting, she supposed. She shrugged. "I guess you could take a look at it later on," she said slowly. "But first I want some food. Where's the kitchens?"
Snape's lip curled in a most vicious way. "By all means, Emilia, I think you should know where it is. It hasn't changed," he replied nastily. "And, in any case, I think that your shoulder is a bit more important than food."
Emilia felt herself become cross. "Only because you have eaten, Severus, and I think my shoulder is only important because it deals with you and your reputation," she said with a cruel undertone.
Suddenly, the four boys emerged from the statue and they had a look of triumph on their faces. Emilia glanced in their direction; the smallest boy, King, gave her a very cynical smile, then turned to his closest friend. Tugging on his shirt, he whispered something, and pointed at them. They both laughed.
Each of them walked quickly away. Emilia frowned. Snape, beside her, clicked his tongue. "What was that all about?" he asked darkly.
"Exactly what I told you earlier," Emilia promptly replied. "My goodness, I don't even want to think about that..." her voice trailed off. What would they think? It would be really hard to ignore that entire snickering in the Great Hall when it came to mealtimes...or any other time... Maybe she was just being paranoid.
"Emilia?" a voice said softly, and she turned around. It was Professor Dumbledore. "I...am sorry to interrupt you for this..."
His grave expression made her stomach sink. "What...is it?"
"A letter came to me today. I think you need to see it," he said, his voice even softer. He held out an opened envelope, and Emilia took it hesitantly. Snape stood there unexpectedly.
She looked up at Dumbledore quickly, and pulled out the white sheet of parchment. Unfolding it carefully, she read what it said:
"We are sorry to inform you, Headmaster Dumbledore, (as you wanted to know information as soon as we had it), that Oliver Black (a high-priority Death Eater who was at large) has been captured by Auror Moody and has been brought in upon capture. It is with a sad ending that we inform you that the Dementor's Kiss had been performed (due to the fact the guard was off-duty) and Oliver Black is currently in Azkaban, in a high-priority cell. We are sorry to inform you of this.
Cornelius Fudge
Minister of Magic"
Emilia's hands shook as she held the paper. Oliver Black...
...Her father...
...Was worse off than dead...
Emilia felt her entire body seize up into once tense muscle. She had the sudden urge to run, or scream, or anything else instead of standing here looking at the paper.
"What is it?" he asked Dumbledore, looking at Emilia. Dumbledore shook his head at him, trying to figure out what Emilia was going to do.
She sighed in deeply, trying to regain her natural state of calmness. She folded the paper up, put it inside the envelope, and said quiet clearly, but calmly, "Thank you, Headmaster."
She tried to look indifferent from her norm, but it was hard with Snape staring at her like she was going to explode into smoke. Or explode, at any rate. She held out the envelope to Dumbledore, and he took it cautiously. "I...I just realized I have to go now," she said quietly, but dully. "I...I've got something to do." She walked away quickly, trying not to walk away too quickly, or too slowly. Emilia didn't want them to know what was wrong. Or at least, Snape, anyway.
Dumbledore murmured something to Snape, and he nodded. Emilia knew that Dumbledore murmured something, because everything became crystal clear to her. Everything...her eyesight, her hearing...became completely and totally clear.
It was very unnerving, to know that her father was in a cell in Azkaban without any soul. He couldn't think, hear, read, interpret, talk--just breathe. He couldn't hold his own opinion, or his anything, ever again. He was indifferent to emotions, to feelings, to death...Emilia felt her hands on her face, covering her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, if she covered them, the thoughts would go away. Maybe, if she covered her eyes, she wouldn't have to see what the others saw.
Emilia felt a hand on her shoulder. She stood absolutely still. Maybe if she didn't move, they'd leave her alone. She really didn't want to talk to anyone. Please, let whomever there leave her alone. Moving her fingers apart a little to see who was there. It was Snape.
Covering her face up quickly, she shook her head vigorously. "Leave me alone!" she said, her voice muffled. "Leave...l-leave me...m-me...a-alone..." she stuttered, trying not to cry--crying was a sign of weakness, to her. "I...I haven't...a-any thing more t-to s-say."
"Emilia," he said quietly, his hand still on her shoulder. "I can't leave you alone when you're like this--you're a danger to yourself," he said clearly. "Dumbledore wants to see you."
Emilia gulped, and suppressed her tears. Moving her hands off of her face, she took a step back. They didn't understand. They saw her father as a monster. He wasn't. He was the best dad a girl could ever ask for. He was only a little confused when it came to right and wrong--like Voldemort said, there's no such thing as right and wrong, only power, and those too weak to seek it.
"You don't know, do you?" she whispered tensely. "You don't? You don't?" she repeated, slightly hysterical. He looked at her and nodded in such a way that she knew--she knew that Snape knows. Dumbledore said something to him.
"No!" she gasped. "No! You aren't supposed to know! Damn you, Severus!" she said quite loudly. She glared at him, her green eyes tiny daggers. "How dare you! How dare you come over here and pretend that everything is all right?" She was in full hysterics now. Her stomach had plummeted beyond anything else she'd ever felt. "How...dare...you?" she whispered, clenching her fists around her face, like she couldn't figure whether or not to cover her face again. "How...could..." she paused, and drew herself up. She wasn't going to give into her feelings. Twenty-seven years of suppressing emotions was going to pay off whether or not it wanted to. She breathed in, and straightened her robe. Emilia swallowed hard, like she was going to bury her emotions deep. Blinking, her eyes felt clear.
"What was I saying?" she said, like nothing happened. "Oh, yes, quite. I'm hungry, that's right," her stomach protested the thought of food--perhaps it was easier to skip a meal, again. She needed an excuse to get out of here.
"What are you saying, Emilia?" Snape asked softly, in his usual sardonic tone. "I think you may be a bit off in the head."
Emilia folded her arms. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about. Oh, yes, Severus, you need to tell the Headmaster that someone else should work for you over the Christmas holiday. I think that I can't do it. Something's come up," she said slowly. Emilia blinked a few times. She could feel no emotions...she didn't want to cry--the feeling disappeared, and so did everything else she felt. Except this little gnawing feeling in her stomach. It usually happened when she did this--suppressing her emotions. She had that ever since she graduated until about a year ago. That was when her mother had died. Now her father was worse off than dead...and here she was, feeling the same kind of sadness, again.
"Why?" he asked, almost frustrated. "I didn't ask to make the Pepper-Up Potions either. I don't think you should back off because you're afraid of what other people would think."
"Do you really think that little of me, Severus?" she asked nastily. "I have been a Black all my life; don't you think that warrants me a little space to myself? Make the damn potions yourself...you are the Potions master, aren't you?" She seemed very irritable.
Snape was taken aback at her maliciousness. "Fine," he snapped, glaring at her. If she was going to be irritable, cross and rude then so would he. "I'll make them myself, I've been doing it for years...but you will tell Dumbledore himself."
She shook her head angrily. "I can't believe how much of an ass you truly are, Severus," she spat, clenching her fists. She'd never felt so angry in her entire life. Everything just seemed totally out of place, and Emilia couldn't deal with it. Not when everything else before was just going okay. This full force of changes rubbed her the wrong way. She couldn't help but take it out on someone. Too bad the only person that was near enough to be angry at was Snape. "I'm not going to take anymore of anything," she said vehemently. She reached into her robes and pulled off the bandages with great ease. The shoulder felt perfectly mended, except for the lasting five points of bruise, where Severus' fingers had dug into her shoulder blade.
She balled up the bandages and stuffed them into her pocket. Rotating her shoulder roughly, she felt her bones crack. It hurt so much, it brought tears to her eyes. Emilia had this sudden urge to show off to Snape, to show that she needed no one--after all, she was alone now. A lonely orphan...and she never did get to say goodbye to either of them.
Snape looked at her face, and saw flickers of sadness and anger creep across them. It was only natural; she was angry at the entire world because her father was practically dead. It wasn't her fault this happened. She was probably angry with him for letting himself to get caught. He bristled at her, though. Snape was never one to let someone get away with nasty comments to him.
Emilia clicked her tongue at him, in an almost tutting sort of way. She felt herself start to move--where was she going to go? She felt very drowsy and very...very...tired.... Emilia felt her eyelids become heavy. She never did go to sleep after the potions. Emilia leaned against the wall to hold herself up. All this in one day was too much. She was now facing to corridor to the left of her, and Snape was on the right...he did seem far away, Emilia noticed. What did that man give her? That wasn't just the Soothing Solution...she felt like she needed to sleep...it must have been something along the lines of the Drought of Living Death...or something quite similar. Who knows what Snape could have put in it? He never did really like her much.
She couldn't stand being sick to her stomach. This was the second time today, she realized furiously that she'd felt this way. She also didn't feel like herself much. Emilia was never one to express her emotions properly. She either chose to ignore them or get angry. It was obvious she'd gotten angry. And now she was sick to her stomach. Emilia needed to get away from him. She didn't want him to see her this weak...this vulnerable.
Of course, it's not like she didn't have anything to be sick about. For instance, her father was worse off than dead. He was the only one to keep Voldemort away. He was a Death Eater, but he never pressured her to join him. Emilia thanked him whole-heartedly for this; but now, it seemed, she was going to be questioned...persuaded...
Emilia wished Snape would look away. She knew, even without looking at him, that he was staring at her. She could feel his terrible penetrating stare. Emilia felt her stomach jolt. It would be so easy to just...go away...right now...
"Severus, do you think that maybe you could do something a bit more creative than standing there?" she snapped at him, gripping her stomach with all her might. "Your damn potions are tearing apart my system!"
"My damn potions?" he sneered, walking up to her with the swish of his cloak. "It's quite your fault you are like this. In fact, I think it's for the best. He did get what was coming, your father."
Emilia's eyes opened wide. How dare he stand there, while she was on the verge of regurgitating what little she had for lunch, and mock her father...? She clenched her fist, and swung up with all her might, but missed him completely. Emilia was knocked off balance by the momentum of her arm, and had unconsciously pushed herself away from the wall, to give her more leverage and force. She went toppling into Snape.
Severus wasn't expecting this; at the last second, he'd uncrossed his arms and managed to stop her from falling to the ground, by gripping her under the arms. Her unexpected weight and the looseness of her body made him bend his knees to catch her so that she didn't fall. Standing up properly, he tried to get her to stand as well, but she obviously wasn't co-operating. Her eyes were very dilated, and her body went slack.
"Damn you," he said softly, as she tried to look up at his face. Her eyes were out of focus; she looked really terrible. She looked...extremely drugged. When she blinked, she blinked on eye at a time--and as she tried to speak, her mouth wouldn't move at all. In fact, nothing seemed to move on her. "Madame Pomfrey needs to fix this," he said, more or less for his benefit. That'd mean she'd see the marks on her shoulder...
He tried not to think about it. He was acutely aware of the fact that he was going to have to carry her to the Infirmary. She had a low blood sugar count, he knew; what else that was caused by the Soothing Solution was totally beyond him. He wished now he'd never have helped her.
Severus looked at her with a look of determination on his face. He bent down and hooked his left arm around her knees, and his right supported her back. Her head bobbed slackly as he walked, and she could now barely keep her eyes awake. What was making her so terribly sick?
Avoiding the main halls that were frequently used, he got her to the Infirmary quickly. Walking in, he set her down on the nearest cot, the white linen of the uniform bed contrasted greatly with her black robes and made her skin look even paler and sicker than before. Severus noticed with a tone of amusement that for being somewhat tall, she was rather small in figure...and weighed even less.
Madame Pomfrey bustled in, and looked from Emilia to Snape. "What happened?" she rushed, moving quickly to Emilia's now unconscious body.
"She just started to act weird, and then...this," Severus replied coldly. "She hasn't had anything to eat today, except for a small breakfast."
Madame Pomfrey put her hand against her forehead and began to check her blood pulse. "Is that it, Professor?"
He paused for a moment. "Yes; that is all."
- 3 -
Email really bites, I've gotten a lot of it. But, I do enjoy the "gee I loved your story") HINT and I just wanted to let you know HINT HINT I do enjoy a review every now and then HINT HINT
ENJOY~ you earned this
Chapter Six: Hold It Up And Just Pretend
Emilia walked through the halls quickly, hearing her steps echo off the cold stone floors and bounce off the castle walls. Minerva went to Dumbledore...and Severus...she didn't know what to think to that. It kind of made her mad. He could be so mean to her, then do whatever he supposedly done to her. What were his intentions?
Emilia stopped, and leaned up against the wall. She crossed her arms, and heaved a sigh. She needed a break from all of this, and Christmas holiday starting next Friday can't come fast enough. Then there was the fact that she was supposed to work with him all next week. She could hear evident cheers ring out from the Great Hall. Dumbledore must have made the announcement about the Yule Ball. Oh, yes, and that too.
She felt so overwhelmed. She had half a mind to walk up to Dumbledore and ask him if he would like another, more suitable assistant to Snape, for that batch of Pepper-Up Potions. Just because she had a decent talent in the subject...perhaps a seventh year could do an internship, she supposed. She leaned away from the wall.
"Emilia!" a voice called curtly, and she whipped her head around to see Minerva. "What's the matter?"
She looked at Minerva with an evident glare on her face. "How could you?" she said softly. Emilia was still furious about what she had overheard. "Did you?" she said, before Minerva could answer. "Did you run to Dumbledore?"
Minerva looked away quickly, as if she heard a noise. Looking up, she had a stern look on her face. "I thought you could use some help. Severus was being such a dolt towards you, I figured that dropping a word to Albus couldn't hurt. And when you talk to me, it looked like you were obviously disliking it, but had too much pride to tell Albus."
Emilia jaw dropped. "I didn't need any help, Minerva. I can handle people like that; I have handled them my entire life! If it were starting to get annoying, or just plain rude, I would have gone to Dumbledore myself. I trusted you," she added, narrowing her eyes angrily.
Minerva opened her mouth then closed it. She opened it again, and said, "I was just trying to be your friend--"
"You acted more like my mother, Minerva," she snapped. "I could have handled this on my own." Emilia turned her back to Minerva and walked quickly away. She didn't want to participate in any more conversation with that traitor. She ran to Dumbledore without even asking whether or not she wanted to talk to him. She could have really handled it; she had been for the previous three months school had been in session. She's handled in all of her twenty-seven years! What's one more to deal with? She felt that her trust in people was severely wounded. Emilia finally found someone who didn't like her because she was possible Death Eater material--a true friend that she didn't have to worry about endangering. Now she just lost her.
"Pro-Professor Black?" a timid voice said from the corner. Turning her head sharply, she saw a first year step away from the wall. It was a young boy, with jet-black untidy hair and a short stature. He looked up at her, and kept moving his hands from an enclosed fist to clasping them together.
"Yes?" she replied. Quite frankly, she had no idea what this little boy's name was--or even who he is. She has seen him in her classes, but he was probably one of the quiet ones. She saw from his robes that the crest of Slytherin was bared on them, albeit, not proudly.
"I...I need to ask you a question. I want to know if the rumors are true," he said, a bit more daringly. She heard muffled voices, then silence. Turning her head slightly, she glanced beyond him in the darkness. She supposed he wasn't alone. "Do you...have something for our Potions master?"
Emilia looked at him with large green eyes, and then she clenched her fist. "Absolutely not," she said tersely. Suddenly, she remembered his name, like she should have known it all along. "I don't know what gave you that idea at all. Faculty fraternizing is strictly prohibited, Mr. King."
He smiled slyly. "My friend saw you two down in the dungeon today, Professor Black."
Emilia tried hard not to go off on this kid, and slap him across the face. "Your friend did?" she said casually. She had nothing to worry about; by all means, she would never be caught dead with the likes of him. She looked around; her eyes darted this way and that. She knew his friends were in an invisibility cloak. If she caught them, it would serve them right. Suddenly, just as she heard if before, muffled noises to the right of him.
"Stop right there," she snapped, and reached out her hand--most accurately. She ripped the material off of them, and saw three boys standing there, trying to sneak off. Holding the cloak in her hands, she narrowed her eyes at them. "I don't know what you are playing at, but this is the big league, boys. All of you now have a detention, and 50 points from Slytherin."
The little boy, King, looked up at her quickly. "You can't do that!" he squealed.
"Each," she added, still gripping the cloak. "Any more talk and it'll be a week's worth of detentions. This cloak here," she held up the softly colored green cloak, shaking it in her hands, "is also hereby confiscated. And you four shall be having a chat with the Headmaster, as well."
Each one of them gave a glance at the other: all of them had a bit of a smirk on their faces. Emilia's stomach plummeted. "You think this funny, don't you?" she snapped, glaring at each one of them.
"No, Professor. Just that...like you said, fraternization between faculty is forbidden. What would we tell Dumbledore?"
"It's Professor Dumbledore to you, and pray tell, what would you tell him?" she said sarcastically.
The boy that held her up stepped forward defiantly. "I saw you and Professor Snape. He was holding you--on the floor." He smirked at her. Emilia smiled right back.
"And how long did you see this? One who makes assumptions is destined to be wrong," she said softly, draping the cloak on her arm slowly. She walked to the other side of them, and stopped. "Well?"
"I...only saw you for a moment," he said hastily, "but it was enough to tell." He stood up straight.
"You...are first years, correct?" she said airily, draping the cloak on her other arm. "Do you know the punishment for blackmailing a teacher? Or attempting to? It's not against school rules," she added, "it's against the law." She stared at each and every one of them. "I know where you're going with this, gentlemen. Don't try my patience."
"Patience...isn't that a Gryffindor virtue? I heard you went to school here, too..." one of them spoke up.
"What are you implying?" she snarled. "I was in Gryffindor? I should think not," she paused, and laughed haughtily, looking at their surprised faces.
"Then what house were you in?" another one said, narrowing his eyes accusingly.
"Slytherin, gentlemen. Now, enough idle chit chat, I'm certain Professor Dumbledore could use something to do about now." She smiled as the color drained from their faces. "And, my dears, I'm sure to say one or two of you shall faint within your lifetimes..." she added, almost trying to say, "It wasn't what it looked like."
She led them to Dumbledore's office; dinner had let out quite some time ago. "Sugar Quill," she said, and the gargoyle sprang aside. She walked up to his room, and knocked on the door.
"Come in," he said, from the other side.
Emilia opened the door, and the four of them filed in. She looked up, and saw that Snape was standing there, with a look of question on his face. "Just a moment of your time, Professor Dumbledore," she said quietly. "These students are charged with harassing a teacher and attempting blackmailing. Not only that, but they have this in their possession," she said, holding up the cloak.
"What are my students doing here?" said Snape, bristling. "This is the second time today you've brought students to me like this." His black eyes narrowed.
"I would have taken them to you," she replied, "but I thought harassing and blackmailing were a bit above you."
She walked out, and she heard Snape say softly, "Good day, Headmaster." He soon was right behind her. "What was that all about?" he snapped, walking quickly next to her.
"What was what all about? Those boys?" she sneered, stopping in her tracks. "I don't know, ask them." She was still extremely angry from before. What exactly did Minerva mean by that line...? "...How could you do that to her? You didn't even ask if she--" Curious, she thought angrily. "Or do you mean me walking out of the Great Hall?"
Snape looked her up and down, trying to figure out what she meant. "Both," he said sharply.
"Well, for one, those boys were trying to harass me, and blackmail me," she said simply. "They saw you holding me in the dungeons...my goodness, doesn't that sound like a really horrid romance novel," she added as an afterthought, a bit quietly. "Anyway, they assumed that you and I have a `thing'. I told them off, of course," she was even quieter there. "Now, for the Great Hall, that simply was just Minerva, albeit you do have something there."
Snape was quiet for a moment, trying to decipher what she had just said...about them. The students asking questions and all--curious. "What else was there?"
"Minerva said something about how could you, and something about how you didn't ask," she said, her eyes flashing. "What did she mean, Severus? Was there something else? I can't remember that time period down there..." her voice trailed off, and she took a step back. Emilia felt sick to her stomach.
"Why, though?" she mused out loud. She was still thinking about the fact that those boys had assumed...what made them jump to that conclusion so quickly? After all they have seen and heard her say, they still think that she could ever possibly be...that way? Or was it Slytherin antics?
"Are you paying attention?" he snapped at her, bringing her out of her thoughts. He stood before her, his hands on his hips, glaring at her.
"Er, what?" she said slowly, trying to guess what he had said. "My mind was elsewhere, pardon me," she said, crossing her arms.
"I was saying that whatever you heard Minerva and myself talking about is none of your concern. After all, like someone wise once said, `Assumptions lead to the biggest mistakes', although I think his words were a bit different," he said, a bit annoyed to have himself repeated. "You didn't eat dinner, either."
Emilia glared at him. "Didn't know you cared, Severus," she said sarcastically.
He sneered at her. "I don't care, I was just saying something more should have annoyed you if you didn't eat," said Snape, almost but not quite satirical. "Anyway, I have other things to attend to," he finished, and started to walk away. Emilia bit her lip.
"Severus, you don't suppose you know the way into the kitchens? Thinking about it, I really am hungry," she said. Her stomach had this gnawing feeling in it. "Those potions definitely aren't quite what I'm used to."
"Speaking of which," he said, turning slowly around, "I do need to have another look at that shoulder. The bruise should be gone," he said, seeing Emilia's bewilderment, "but I want to make sure there isn't...any more damage. I must admit, this is the first time I've hurt someone...outside using my wand."
Emilia blinked. He was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Shouldn't he be used to that sort of thing by now? She was still confused...he acted almost concerned about her shoulder. Was he really that surprised that he had the ability to do that, or was he truly sorry? Or...was it...? No. Couldn't be. He wouldn't be afraid of her running to her father...and saying a fellow Death Eater of his hurt her...rather unusual, unless his loyalty was wavering...or had it already?
Interesting, she supposed. She shrugged. "I guess you could take a look at it later on," she said slowly. "But first I want some food. Where's the kitchens?"
Snape's lip curled in a most vicious way. "By all means, Emilia, I think you should know where it is. It hasn't changed," he replied nastily. "And, in any case, I think that your shoulder is a bit more important than food."
Emilia felt herself become cross. "Only because you have eaten, Severus, and I think my shoulder is only important because it deals with you and your reputation," she said with a cruel undertone.
Suddenly, the four boys emerged from the statue and they had a look of triumph on their faces. Emilia glanced in their direction; the smallest boy, King, gave her a very cynical smile, then turned to his closest friend. Tugging on his shirt, he whispered something, and pointed at them. They both laughed.
Each of them walked quickly away. Emilia frowned. Snape, beside her, clicked his tongue. "What was that all about?" he asked darkly.
"Exactly what I told you earlier," Emilia promptly replied. "My goodness, I don't even want to think about that..." her voice trailed off. What would they think? It would be really hard to ignore that entire snickering in the Great Hall when it came to mealtimes...or any other time... Maybe she was just being paranoid.
"Emilia?" a voice said softly, and she turned around. It was Professor Dumbledore. "I...am sorry to interrupt you for this..."
His grave expression made her stomach sink. "What...is it?"
"A letter came to me today. I think you need to see it," he said, his voice even softer. He held out an opened envelope, and Emilia took it hesitantly. Snape stood there unexpectedly.
She looked up at Dumbledore quickly, and pulled out the white sheet of parchment. Unfolding it carefully, she read what it said:
"We are sorry to inform you, Headmaster Dumbledore, (as you wanted to know information as soon as we had it), that Oliver Black (a high-priority Death Eater who was at large) has been captured by Auror Moody and has been brought in upon capture. It is with a sad ending that we inform you that the Dementor's Kiss had been performed (due to the fact the guard was off-duty) and Oliver Black is currently in Azkaban, in a high-priority cell. We are sorry to inform you of this.
Cornelius Fudge
Minister of Magic"
Emilia's hands shook as she held the paper. Oliver Black...
...Her father...
...Was worse off than dead...
Emilia felt her entire body seize up into once tense muscle. She had the sudden urge to run, or scream, or anything else instead of standing here looking at the paper.
"What is it?" he asked Dumbledore, looking at Emilia. Dumbledore shook his head at him, trying to figure out what Emilia was going to do.
She sighed in deeply, trying to regain her natural state of calmness. She folded the paper up, put it inside the envelope, and said quiet clearly, but calmly, "Thank you, Headmaster."
She tried to look indifferent from her norm, but it was hard with Snape staring at her like she was going to explode into smoke. Or explode, at any rate. She held out the envelope to Dumbledore, and he took it cautiously. "I...I just realized I have to go now," she said quietly, but dully. "I...I've got something to do." She walked away quickly, trying not to walk away too quickly, or too slowly. Emilia didn't want them to know what was wrong. Or at least, Snape, anyway.
Dumbledore murmured something to Snape, and he nodded. Emilia knew that Dumbledore murmured something, because everything became crystal clear to her. Everything...her eyesight, her hearing...became completely and totally clear.
It was very unnerving, to know that her father was in a cell in Azkaban without any soul. He couldn't think, hear, read, interpret, talk--just breathe. He couldn't hold his own opinion, or his anything, ever again. He was indifferent to emotions, to feelings, to death...Emilia felt her hands on her face, covering her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, if she covered them, the thoughts would go away. Maybe, if she covered her eyes, she wouldn't have to see what the others saw.
Emilia felt a hand on her shoulder. She stood absolutely still. Maybe if she didn't move, they'd leave her alone. She really didn't want to talk to anyone. Please, let whomever there leave her alone. Moving her fingers apart a little to see who was there. It was Snape.
Covering her face up quickly, she shook her head vigorously. "Leave me alone!" she said, her voice muffled. "Leave...l-leave me...m-me...a-alone..." she stuttered, trying not to cry--crying was a sign of weakness, to her. "I...I haven't...a-any thing more t-to s-say."
"Emilia," he said quietly, his hand still on her shoulder. "I can't leave you alone when you're like this--you're a danger to yourself," he said clearly. "Dumbledore wants to see you."
Emilia gulped, and suppressed her tears. Moving her hands off of her face, she took a step back. They didn't understand. They saw her father as a monster. He wasn't. He was the best dad a girl could ever ask for. He was only a little confused when it came to right and wrong--like Voldemort said, there's no such thing as right and wrong, only power, and those too weak to seek it.
"You don't know, do you?" she whispered tensely. "You don't? You don't?" she repeated, slightly hysterical. He looked at her and nodded in such a way that she knew--she knew that Snape knows. Dumbledore said something to him.
"No!" she gasped. "No! You aren't supposed to know! Damn you, Severus!" she said quite loudly. She glared at him, her green eyes tiny daggers. "How dare you! How dare you come over here and pretend that everything is all right?" She was in full hysterics now. Her stomach had plummeted beyond anything else she'd ever felt. "How...dare...you?" she whispered, clenching her fists around her face, like she couldn't figure whether or not to cover her face again. "How...could..." she paused, and drew herself up. She wasn't going to give into her feelings. Twenty-seven years of suppressing emotions was going to pay off whether or not it wanted to. She breathed in, and straightened her robe. Emilia swallowed hard, like she was going to bury her emotions deep. Blinking, her eyes felt clear.
"What was I saying?" she said, like nothing happened. "Oh, yes, quite. I'm hungry, that's right," her stomach protested the thought of food--perhaps it was easier to skip a meal, again. She needed an excuse to get out of here.
"What are you saying, Emilia?" Snape asked softly, in his usual sardonic tone. "I think you may be a bit off in the head."
Emilia folded her arms. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about. Oh, yes, Severus, you need to tell the Headmaster that someone else should work for you over the Christmas holiday. I think that I can't do it. Something's come up," she said slowly. Emilia blinked a few times. She could feel no emotions...she didn't want to cry--the feeling disappeared, and so did everything else she felt. Except this little gnawing feeling in her stomach. It usually happened when she did this--suppressing her emotions. She had that ever since she graduated until about a year ago. That was when her mother had died. Now her father was worse off than dead...and here she was, feeling the same kind of sadness, again.
"Why?" he asked, almost frustrated. "I didn't ask to make the Pepper-Up Potions either. I don't think you should back off because you're afraid of what other people would think."
"Do you really think that little of me, Severus?" she asked nastily. "I have been a Black all my life; don't you think that warrants me a little space to myself? Make the damn potions yourself...you are the Potions master, aren't you?" She seemed very irritable.
Snape was taken aback at her maliciousness. "Fine," he snapped, glaring at her. If she was going to be irritable, cross and rude then so would he. "I'll make them myself, I've been doing it for years...but you will tell Dumbledore himself."
She shook her head angrily. "I can't believe how much of an ass you truly are, Severus," she spat, clenching her fists. She'd never felt so angry in her entire life. Everything just seemed totally out of place, and Emilia couldn't deal with it. Not when everything else before was just going okay. This full force of changes rubbed her the wrong way. She couldn't help but take it out on someone. Too bad the only person that was near enough to be angry at was Snape. "I'm not going to take anymore of anything," she said vehemently. She reached into her robes and pulled off the bandages with great ease. The shoulder felt perfectly mended, except for the lasting five points of bruise, where Severus' fingers had dug into her shoulder blade.
She balled up the bandages and stuffed them into her pocket. Rotating her shoulder roughly, she felt her bones crack. It hurt so much, it brought tears to her eyes. Emilia had this sudden urge to show off to Snape, to show that she needed no one--after all, she was alone now. A lonely orphan...and she never did get to say goodbye to either of them.
Snape looked at her face, and saw flickers of sadness and anger creep across them. It was only natural; she was angry at the entire world because her father was practically dead. It wasn't her fault this happened. She was probably angry with him for letting himself to get caught. He bristled at her, though. Snape was never one to let someone get away with nasty comments to him.
Emilia clicked her tongue at him, in an almost tutting sort of way. She felt herself start to move--where was she going to go? She felt very drowsy and very...very...tired.... Emilia felt her eyelids become heavy. She never did go to sleep after the potions. Emilia leaned against the wall to hold herself up. All this in one day was too much. She was now facing to corridor to the left of her, and Snape was on the right...he did seem far away, Emilia noticed. What did that man give her? That wasn't just the Soothing Solution...she felt like she needed to sleep...it must have been something along the lines of the Drought of Living Death...or something quite similar. Who knows what Snape could have put in it? He never did really like her much.
She couldn't stand being sick to her stomach. This was the second time today, she realized furiously that she'd felt this way. She also didn't feel like herself much. Emilia was never one to express her emotions properly. She either chose to ignore them or get angry. It was obvious she'd gotten angry. And now she was sick to her stomach. Emilia needed to get away from him. She didn't want him to see her this weak...this vulnerable.
Of course, it's not like she didn't have anything to be sick about. For instance, her father was worse off than dead. He was the only one to keep Voldemort away. He was a Death Eater, but he never pressured her to join him. Emilia thanked him whole-heartedly for this; but now, it seemed, she was going to be questioned...persuaded...
Emilia wished Snape would look away. She knew, even without looking at him, that he was staring at her. She could feel his terrible penetrating stare. Emilia felt her stomach jolt. It would be so easy to just...go away...right now...
"Severus, do you think that maybe you could do something a bit more creative than standing there?" she snapped at him, gripping her stomach with all her might. "Your damn potions are tearing apart my system!"
"My damn potions?" he sneered, walking up to her with the swish of his cloak. "It's quite your fault you are like this. In fact, I think it's for the best. He did get what was coming, your father."
Emilia's eyes opened wide. How dare he stand there, while she was on the verge of regurgitating what little she had for lunch, and mock her father...? She clenched her fist, and swung up with all her might, but missed him completely. Emilia was knocked off balance by the momentum of her arm, and had unconsciously pushed herself away from the wall, to give her more leverage and force. She went toppling into Snape.
Severus wasn't expecting this; at the last second, he'd uncrossed his arms and managed to stop her from falling to the ground, by gripping her under the arms. Her unexpected weight and the looseness of her body made him bend his knees to catch her so that she didn't fall. Standing up properly, he tried to get her to stand as well, but she obviously wasn't co-operating. Her eyes were very dilated, and her body went slack.
"Damn you," he said softly, as she tried to look up at his face. Her eyes were out of focus; she looked really terrible. She looked...extremely drugged. When she blinked, she blinked on eye at a time--and as she tried to speak, her mouth wouldn't move at all. In fact, nothing seemed to move on her. "Madame Pomfrey needs to fix this," he said, more or less for his benefit. That'd mean she'd see the marks on her shoulder...
He tried not to think about it. He was acutely aware of the fact that he was going to have to carry her to the Infirmary. She had a low blood sugar count, he knew; what else that was caused by the Soothing Solution was totally beyond him. He wished now he'd never have helped her.
Severus looked at her with a look of determination on his face. He bent down and hooked his left arm around her knees, and his right supported her back. Her head bobbed slackly as he walked, and she could now barely keep her eyes awake. What was making her so terribly sick?
Avoiding the main halls that were frequently used, he got her to the Infirmary quickly. Walking in, he set her down on the nearest cot, the white linen of the uniform bed contrasted greatly with her black robes and made her skin look even paler and sicker than before. Severus noticed with a tone of amusement that for being somewhat tall, she was rather small in figure...and weighed even less.
Madame Pomfrey bustled in, and looked from Emilia to Snape. "What happened?" she rushed, moving quickly to Emilia's now unconscious body.
"She just started to act weird, and then...this," Severus replied coldly. "She hasn't had anything to eat today, except for a small breakfast."
Madame Pomfrey put her hand against her forehead and began to check her blood pulse. "Is that it, Professor?"
He paused for a moment. "Yes; that is all."
- 3 -