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chapter fifteen.
For Sirius, the concept of pride was a difficult notion for him to grasp.
He thought about his mother, the great Walburga Black, and her skewed perception of pride that was so warped and twisted from his; how she would always remind him that he was of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, the words of Toujours Pur practically burned into his skull from how she would scream it at him, rattling him by the shoulders to get it into his head for him to understand that he was better, that he was pure. But pure didn't mean good and he felt sick at the thought of his mother's blood running through his veins, sludge of a pureblood family who would hound at him that as a Black, he would need to be Always Pure, always proud of his heritage.
But he wasn't, he couldn't, not of something built on such a notion so vile and disgusting that it eventually made him turn away from it all, removing himself entirely and officially when his Uncle Alphard had died and had gifted him a ridiculous large amount of money; his mother had screamed and wailed over how the oh so great House of Black was slipping into ruination because of her eldest son losing his way and Sirius couldn't help but think that that was something he should be proud of.
It had taken him so long to unlearn all that his family had tried to shove down his throat, to untangle the thread that his mother and father had knotted within Sirius and he had done it all by himself. Mostly.
If it weren't for James, for Remus, for Peter, Sirius half feared of what might have become of him had it not been for his friends.
But Sirius was proud of a great deal of things; he was proud of being a Gryffindor, a red and gold lion instead of a slithering snake, proud to be different than his family and their ancient ideals, proud of being a Beater on the Quidditch team and to be one of the smartest in his year who got the most OWLs out of anyone else.
Sirius was proud that he was not his mother's son, that he would never be like her and that he would be him, be better, be a Black that was not bogged down by ancient traditions and equally old mindsets about keeping the line going, to keep it clean however much like sludge it became, Black by name and blackened by blood.
James often joked that Sirius' ego would get so big that one of these days he wouldn't be able to fly on his broom or fit his head through the doors of the Great Hall but Sirius thought that after everything, after his family and growing up under them, that he all but deserved the right to be prideful and egotistical.
Perhaps it was only a matter of time before someone came along and decided to deflate his head.
You, your words, they mean nothing to me, echoed in his mind far too often as of late, words he couldn't fathom because they made no sense.
How could something he said not mean anything, he was the Sirius Black! Everyone always liked him because he was funny, he was handsome, he was smart, he was the best shag around for miles so it didn't make any bloody sense. He had never even spoken to Emilia before that moment so he didn't even understand why she was so weird and didn't like him because everyone liked him.
His mother was wrong, she had to be wrong because he had friends and people who practically worshipped the ground he walked on and he was the embodiment of what it meant to be a good Gryffindor but it made no fucking sense because for some reason, this person whom he had never met before or talked to before just…
Didn't like him.
Why? What possible reason could she give to not like him? He knew he was good looking and that girls and boys alike tripped over themselves to even have the chance to snog him, and he had gotten the most OWLs in his year and he was pretty fucking funny if he had to say so himself; not to mention he was the reason that the team had won so many matches because he was bloody brilliant at playing Quidditch. Sirius had every fucking right to be egotistical because he knew that he wasn't average or lesser like his mother wanted him to believe, so he just couldn't get it, get her.
Everyone always liked him - students, teachers, even people who hated him because there was nothing wrong with him to hate, so why didn't she? If she didn't like him then, then that... that would mean that his mother was right, even if by a miniscule, and that everything she ever said about him was true and she had never been wrong about him since the start; the thought sent him feeling hollow, ready for his parents to fill up with their own bullshit and use him as a puppet on strings because whenever he used his own mind, he was more than a disappointment: he was nothing.
No, no – he wasn't a disappointment, he wasn't a rotten apple on the Black family tree and he bloody well was deserving of all the love and adoration he got and sometimes it was enough to fill the void that was carved out where his own family should have been.
Because that was the thing about family, about his family, that as much as he hated them, as much as he loathed them for all that they stood for, foundations and all, they still had the same blood in their veins; he could still see those very same pair of grey eyes in the hallways, across the Great Hall, caught in hushed whispers of the Dark Arts and Sirius can never stop thinking of the time when his baby brother was just that: a baby who was giggling and laughing and hanging onto his big brother's sleeve with such adoration in his eyes but Regulus wasn't that happy baby anymore and Sirius wasn't that same child.
They were practically strangers now who shared the same last name and same grey eyes.
He didn't, just couldn't, follow what his mother and father would spout at him; he didn't do what she wanted, live how as she had hoped her eldest son would and when Sirius began to carve another vein into the path he walked on, Walburga did all that she could to stop him – bargaining, pleading, compromising, bribing. When she realised that all she did was for naught, she fought against his own actions, perhaps out of denial that the son of the great Orion and Walburga Black was a blood traitor and Muggle lover.
Sometimes, Sirius still had nightmares about broom sticks hitting his skull and book spines cracking his bones since he wasn't good enough for her to hit him with her own fists, didn't want his blood traitor self to taint her pureness, calling him a traitor to their family, to their pure blood. He had not seen any of his parents in some time; his father had sent a letter after Uncle Alphard had given him the money to say that Sirius was breaking his mother's heart for going down this path and that the dishonour he was bringing to their doorstep was sullying their family's long lived legacy.
He had not talked to his mother in over a year and a half and he had long since abandoned the hope that she was capable of change. Her beliefs were too deeply rooted to be pulled out and planted anew as even the soil was rotten, unsalvageable conditions for any kind of new life to be planted there, but it didn't really surprise or hurt Sirius all that much as she was hardly a mother to him to begin with.
But, he supposes that it is not the broken relationship that was gone beyond any kind of repairing that Sirius mourns; no, it is instead the thought of what might have been that he grieves for, the kind of family James had and Sirius felt a part of but always separated from to some degree. He mourned the family that could have been entirely his but it was a dream, a fancy that his younger self used to cry over whenever he would wish he were anywhere but in 12 Grimmauld Place; blood may be thicker than water but it choked him nonetheless and he had washed what ran through his veins out long ago.
Sirius didn't want them, didn't need them to have a family; he had a new one, a better one. He had James and Peter and Remus and the Potters and so many friends that liked him, loved him and wanted to be around Sirius and he knew his mother was wrong about him, he wasn't rotten on the inside; he wasn't born the wrong way around, wasn't unwanted and he did most certainly fucking matter.
He half wanted to go to his mother and rub it in her snooty, snobby face but couldn't even stand the idea of being in the same room as her to do so and he doubted that she would read any letter he would write to her.
Then again, if she had done the same for him, he would have burned it without a second thought.
But that didn't mean the idea still wasn't tempting, to show that he was a person that mattered and that his mother would always be wrong.
Well.
At least partially.
He could still feel the burn of Emilia's slap across his cheek, nowhere near as sharp or painful as how his mother used to hit him, but it still fucking hurt. It had cut straight through him, head snapped to the side and stinging from where her palm had met him, the impact almost neck breaking as it sent his thoughts scattered around the hall, a sudden silence choking everyone.
It took a brief moment to gather himself, eyes wide with shock before he turned back to look down at her, the fire and fury wild and merciless and Sirius could see it in her eyes, watching the way orange droplets clung to her eyelashes in faux tears before they fell down her splotched red cheeks, her face steadily turning brighter and warmer, though from embarrassment or hate, Sirius wasn't able to tell.
All he could do was stare down at her form that was quivering, but definitely not the result of fear, as an orange puddle gathered at her feet, her white shirt stained and clinging to her body as her fists curled in at her sides.
He barely even heard her scream 'Dickhead!' at him before she turned on her heel and marched out of the Great Hall, leaving a trail of puddling orange juice behind her as she stomped away just as the laughter began. He watched her go, trying to put his scrambled mind back together to understand what had just happened but couldn't fathom it, still reeling from the slap across his face as he felt someone tug at his sleeve, pulling him down into the seat but his eyes were glued to her retreating back until she turned a corner and disappeared entirely.
His senses came back to him as James cradled his forehead with his hand, the other hand wiping his eyes with the back of it as raucous laughter shook his body and left him wheezing until his dark skin was a bright, ruby colour.
Sirius was just so fucking glad his best mate was able to find the humour in this, his hazel eyes looking to Sirius' own grey eyes before breaking out into laughter once more at the sight of the mark that was red and raising on his cheek, all the while Sirius continued to grimace.
"You didn't even last two weeks, Padfoot!" James wheezed, putting his glasses back on and gathering in deep, heaving breaths while small, annoying giggles still left him.
Sirius looked to his two other friends, still trying to cope with the aftermath as Remus gave a shake of his head and Peter was looking at him as if he was disappointed in Sirius. Bloody fucking Hell, it wasn't as if he did it on purpose! But the sharp disappointment in Peter's eyes made Sirius felt like it was all his fault. "You really messed up this time."
Peter's words finally brought sense to Sirius as he sat up straight in disbelief as he finally realised that it wasn't some bad dream and some girl had actually just knocked him across the face with an open palm in front of the entire school. "What the actual fuck just happened? Did I or did I not just get slapped at nine in the morning?"
"Shite, I just know she's plotting your murder," James said, settling down and making a show of wiping away a few non-existent tears. Prick, he was the one who was messing about as well! "D'you see the absolute swing she put into that slap? I wonder if it'll leave a permanent mark."
"Oh, come on, I didn't do anything that bad, right?" Sirius insisted, pushing away James' inquisitive hands that were probing at his reddened cheek and turning to the other two and hoping to be, if not comforted, but vindicated in his claim but instead was once more met with disapproving eyes. He couldn't believe this, he didn't even know her! It was a bloody accident, why were they looking at him as if he had pissed in her porridge? "Remus? Wormtail?"
Remus gave a sigh, his Runes notebook in his hand as he closed it to give Sirius his full attention. There was something about Remus' green eyes that just made a person feel guilty, as if they had done something bad – which he didn't even do! Not really. But now he was doubting himself; Remus had that kind of affect on people. Sirius was glad that they were friends because if he had ever been caught by Remus when in Prefect mode, he'd be able to wring the truth from Sirius no bother with eyes like those. "You did kind of just humiliate her in front of everyone."
A frustrated sound left Sirius, aghast at the accusation. "It was an accident! It wasn't as if I was plotting this! She's cracked in the head, honestly, going about slapping people for a bit of a spill."
"Mate, she's a girl – she would have gotten mad if you blew a breeze in her face," James stated, hand on Sirius' shoulder and letting the occasional chuckle leave him whenever his eyes flickered to the mark on Sirius' cheek.
A snort left Remus, eyes rolling at James' comment. "No wonder Evans hasn't fallen for you yet, Prongs."
An offended look contorted James' features. "Oi, I know girls!"
"Clearly not," Remus said.
"Oh yeah? Go on then, Moony, tell us all that you know, o wise guru," James mocked, giving a pretend bow in front of Remus who sat in front of him across the table before Remus leant over to give the black haired boy a smack with his notebook, resulting in a not very manly yelp leaving James.
They really were not helping with Sirius' darkening mood.
"It's not that hard to rub your two braincells together," Remus explained, turning to Sirius and pointing at him with his notebook as if threatening to smack him as well, eyebrow raised and disappearing over his messy fringe, the scar over his brow warping at the action. "You just made her a laughing stock of the entire school."
Oh, please, no one was even laughing anymore – at least, not that much. Sirius crossed his arms, a dark look on his face. "Yeah and she slapped me for it, so what?"
Remus gave a roll of his eyes before he reached over the table to once more smack one of his friend's with his notebook, this time targeting Sirius and he hit the top of Sirius's head, making the latter's hand rush up to fix his hair lest his friend end up ruining his work that he had spent all morning perfecting.
"Because you didn't apologise and acted like a proper bellend after the fact, and you – " Remus paused before once more going to hit James with the paper copy, hitting the bullseye on the spot he had hit last time, making a shout escape James in protest at Remus' admonishing. " – Laughed at her."
A snort left James, who didn't care all that much Remus had messed up his already wild nest of black, wiry hair as he rubbed the spot he had been smacked on. "I only had a laugh after she left, not to her face, what does that matter?"
Remus shook his head and turned back to Sirius, who suddenly felt as if he was being chastised by McGonagall; from the way the bastard could wield guilt, they should stick him in to be an Auror, any criminal would cave instantly under his gaze. He looked exasperated trying to talk to his two friends and was already tired enough what with the full moon approaching. "Honestly, it isn't that hard to understand, Padfoot – just go and apologise to her."
A reluctant groan left Sirius as he relented under Remus' eyes, cursing under his breath as he swung his legs out from under the table, casting a glare back at his friends who didn't seem to have his back at that moment.
What happened to sticking with each other through thick and thin? Load of shite it seemed, making him feel bad and apologise and all that nonsense.
"Well, bollocks anyways, fine. I can do just that, no problem," Sirius grumbled.
He didn't want to admit he was in a bit of a mood, but he was, undeniably so because his good morning had been ruined and now he had to go and grovel for forgiveness for something that wasn't even his fault, not really; she had to know it was an entirely accident, or maybe she was a complete and utter nutter, Sirius wasn't sure which one it was yet.
He had never even seen her before, was she even in their year? He knew a lot of people who were in their year and below but he couldn't even scrounge up –
Oh.
That was going to be a problem.
Just as he was halfway down the aisle between the tables, Sirius swivelled back on his heel and headed towards where his friends were, face pinched together as his brain tried working over time to come up with something, anything, that even so much as resembled a name that he could attach to her face but he couldn't.
He didn't even know her name.
Three pairs eyes looked at Sirius strangely as he sat in silence, looking in pain as he tried to think but nothing was offering itself up.
Peter, who had been quiet this entire time, took the leap and decided to see what it was that was making Sirius look as if he was in agony. "What is it?"
"I don't know her name," he admitted, looking around at the other three, hoping one of them would speak up and help him but then the silence stretched on, each mimicking Sirius' previous, pained expression as they evidently tried to recall something that might have been any indication she actually had a name. Remus looked at him apologetically, shaking his head and Peter was staring at his fried eggs, refusing to meet Sirius' eyes as if embarrassed he had no idea either, forcing Sirius to give another strangled noise of exasperation. "No one knows her name? At all? Prongs, where's the map, I can try to at least check it there."
James took a bite that was the size of half the sausage he had on his fork, not even thinking to swallow it before he spoke, giving a lift of his shoulders. "Left it in my trunk, sorry."
"Then go get it."
James pulled a face at Sirius' demand. "Why can't you go get it?"
"It's in your trunk," Sirius pointed out.
"Yeah, and you're the one who wants it."
"Cheers for that, mate, honestly, I guess I'll just go fuck myself and have no idea who or where she is," Sirius hissed, throwing his arms up in the air, giving up entirely and trying to ignore how much the side of his face fucking stung; his hands went to his hair, the curls wrapping themselves around his fingers as he tugged at the locks, the pain of it giving him something else to focus on because he just was not able to deal with this right now.
If he apologised, he would be admitting he did something wrong and if he didn't then he would be even more of a prick for it. It wasn't as if she couldn't just wash the bloody drink off, he hadn't dumped her in cement or anything like that and a change of clothes would solve the dripping problem easily.
He didn't think it was that big of a deal, so why did he feel so guilty over it?
A cough broke Sirius from his over thinking to turn to Peter, fiddling with his fork and using the tines to smear the yolk of his fried egg all over the plate. He had been quieter than usual, though he never really was the best whenever it came to tense situations, or girls, or situations about girls. Anything about them really, he was practically hopeless. His round face was pink and his voice was a mumble that was barely existent over the chatter of the Great Hall.
Sirius' face scrunched up as he leaned over the table, hand cupped around his ear and Peter winced as Sirius spoke. "I can't hear you, Wormy. Speak up a bit, mate, will you?"
"Her name," he said once more, before mumbling it again, Sirius managing to catch onto it just before it disappeared on him.
"Emily?" Sirius clarified, thankful that at least one of them knew this basket case's name.
Peter's features knotted together, appearing as if he was in pain from even thinking and trying to make sure that he was correct before Sirius could go off and make a fool of himself and call her the wrong name to her face. It would hardly seem like a sincere apology if he did so and she would probably hate him even more if he decided to not get her name right while trying to say sorry.
Peter nodded in confirmation, confident that he was right. "Yeah. That's it, Emily Greene. She's in our year. She has Astronomy first thing, you can catch her before class starts."
At least Sirius was on the right track, however reluctant he was to be on it, and he stood, a sigh bleeding out through his nose and clicking his tongue. He really didn't want to do this – what if she decided to have a go at the other cheek? Then again, he supposed it was better to have the matching set on either side of his face instead of sporting just the one like an out of fashion git. "Fine, I guess I will even if she's the one who should apologise to me for slapping me."
James choked on his sausage, reaching up to give a not very comforting pat on his best mate's arm while Remus shook his head out of habit at Sirius' ridiculousness, at how he was dragging his feet on doing the right thing. "It's not as if you haven't been slapped by a girl before, Sirius."
"It's the principle, Moony!" Sirius snapped back but they paid no heed as James rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics.
"Good luck with that attitude," James told him. "if there's one thing I know about girls is that if you aren't sincere about saying sorry, they'll make your life Hell."
"You would know all about that," Remus said, teasing him and they all knew that each of them was thinking of the time Evans Hexed James with boils that left him arse up for three days straight on a bed in the infirmary after he had Charmed a birthday card to follow her around all day singing happy birthday in her ear.
Unlike the rest of his unfortunate friends, Sirius actually had experience with ladies – and lots of it. "Nah, it'll be easy. Just gotta bat the eyelashes and give a smile, then you'll see – she'll be weak all over for me."
Only she wasn't.
Sirius had been so confident that he couldn't help but believe his words until he stood in front of her, her eyes picking him apart and making him shift underneath just how sharp her gaze was as she stood a few steps ahead of him, the advantage of height forcing him to look up at her for a change.
It was an embarrassing display even for him and he couldn't believe he had called her the wrong name, the mortification he felt was enough to make Sirius want to just walk straight into the Forbidden Forest and never walk back out.
He was going to strangle Peter when this was all over.
He's made an idiot of himself in front of girls before but not like this; usually they would find it charming or endearing, giggling and blushing at Sirius, but this girl, Emilia, looked at him as if he was an annoying rat that was nipping at her feet. Without a second thought, she left him in the dirt behind her, leaving him to gawp up at her as she climbed the steps to her class, not even bothering to look back once at Sirius' shocked form.
His mind was going round and round, knotting itself into a mess as Sirius once more was left trying to understand what had just transpired; you, your words, they mean nothing to me she had told him as if it were true and he had looked her in the face and was worried that, to her, it really was the truth – that nothing he did actually mattered to her and that was why she had thrown his apology back in his face.
Sirius couldn't wrap his head around it, why didn't she just bloody well accept it? It was always easy and people always accepted his apology, or let themselves be charmed by his smile, so much so he had managed to get out of detention a good few times because of it.
But where had he gone wrong? Maybe calling her the wrong name was a misstep that he would admit to but he did actually try and that was worth something!
Wasn't it?
Wasn't anything Sirius did? Did any of it matter?
Maybe it was just as Remus said and that he just wasn't sincere enough.
Or maybe it was because he just… wasn't enough.
In his ears, Sirius could hear his mother's screams echoing in his ears, carving into the inside of his skull so there would be no escape from them no matter how much distance he attempted to put between him and his mother and Walburga would always be a part of him like that, a dreadful reminder that mother knows best and perhaps that for once in her life, she was right.
No. No, she couldn't be and he would be damned if she was; everyone always liked him, always loved him and wanted to hear what he had to say and eyes were always on him and sometimes, sometimes it was enough to fill the void inside of him. It was easy, putting on an act, being someone else, a better him, a nicer and funnier him for everyone else; it was all shallow, surface level that sat on the surface and he wore that cloth of the public Sirius Black as easy as he wore his robes. Only his friends were important to enough to see who he really was, everyone else didn't deserve that privilege.
And it worked, it always did - they always laughed at his jokes, giggled at his quips, blushed at him, had no shame in flirting with him. It was always a bit of fun and games, a momentary distraction that made him didn't feel as lonely as he worried he was and they all always seemed so willing to comply and fall into bed with him because of how well he wore that mask of being the Sirius Black.
But now Sirius worried; could Emilia see through it all? If she didn't, then did that mean she didn't even like who he pretended to be when everyone else did?
And it was driving him demented, too frustrating because Sirius just didn't get it, why couldn't Emilia just at least pretend to accept his shite apology and then just move on from it? Then they could back to never knowing the other existed and he would never have to think about the look in her eyes as she glared up at him, orange drops clinging to her cheeks.
Would he really be able to forget that so easily?
No, because then he would always have that niggling feeling in the back of his mind, become bloated and monstrous as it fed on his doubt, on his knowledge that there was at least one person out there who was proving his mother right, showing she was vindicated in her claims that Sirius was nothing, that he would always be nothing, a fallen twig from the noble family tree of the House of Black that needed to be cut off to save the rest from the infection of his existence.
Sirius couldn't, wouldn't, refused to have that. He was smart, he could do as Remus said to do and rub his bloody braincells together to come up with a plan; he needed to think, how could he change her mind? He could make her forgive him, put on an act and sway her to change her mind about him and then he would be able to just move on past this and no longer hear the haunting echo of his mother's voice filling the pockets of his skull.
Yes, perfect – that was it; he just needed to suck it up to Emilia and win her over and then she would see that Sirius was the next best thing to perfection in this bloody place and all he had to do for this to succeed was scope out what kind of person she was, pretend to show interest, maybe he could just flirt with her until she dropped her knickers for him and then everything would be solved, everything would be fine.
But no, of course nothing was ever that fucking easy for him.
During the time of his investigation, he couldn't find anyone, not a single person, that actually knew Emilia, or anyone he could find and use as a stepping stone to getting into her good books; he asked Marlene, Mary, and even Evans about her, but all gave a shrug not able to provide him with anything that could be of use. Lily seemed more annoyed at him than usual, shifting and looking off to the side as if she was uncomfortable with Sirius asking about Emilia, glaring at him through her lashes before snapping at Sirius to leave the poor girl alone and not to mess with her, refusing to delve further into her warning.
No one had any answers, or wouldn't give them to him in some cases, forcing Sirius to have to go into this blind and learn by trial and error.
And there were a lot of errors.
He wasn't sure if Emilia actually hated him or if she was just a surly person by nature; her unreadable eyes, a small face that was kept cold and neutral most of the time and she might have been prettier if she didn't appear so damned downtrodden all the time or if she pulled her nose out of a book every now and again.
She reminded him of Remus in that aspect, but then that image of her being anything like his friend crumbled to nothing; where Remus was reserved as a result of him desperately trying to be so different to his other side, Emilia was closed off, shutting herself in instead of shutting the world out, never really speaking up in class or talking to someone next to her - when she ever decided to sit next someone, that is.
And the longer he was around her, the more he could picture her face until it all suddenly came back to him.
The first week of term, of Emilia sitting by herself in Transfiguration and in Potions too, before old Sluggy made a seating chart that forced her to be sat next to that greasy, smarmy cunt Snivellus.
She sat next to that loony bin Xenophilius Lovegood from Ravenclaw in Charms but neither spoke to each other and then in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Sirius could just about recall when he was leaving the classroom on the Friday of their first week and catching the briefest sight of her sitting in the back of class, shoving books away with haste with her bag resting on the empty seat next to her.
And then, he could remember a blurry face smeared and marred by the passage of time that was dug up from the back of his mind that he previously could not tack a name onto; it was Fourth Year, she was a barely noticeable girl and Sirius had spent that year sitting next to someone who kept her head down and never spoke, hair acting as a barrier between them and Sirius had thought she was a bit odd back then, never speaking to him however much she insisted that he was the one who ignored her.
How could he talk to someone who clearly didn't want to be talked to?
But... but maybe if he had even bothered to say hello to her, something, anything, it would have been different, she might have been different to him.
It wasn't bitterness, not exactly, it was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Not hate either, however much she tried to make it appear as such; Sirius eventually, and with great reluctance understood why it was that she could possibly not like him, would have been shocked if she actually did like him. He had no choice in the realisation as it was hard to ignore and Sirius finally succumbed to accepting the fact she had more than enough reason to hate his guts after he embarrassingly called her the wrong bloody name in a supposed heartfelt apology.
But beyond that, he could see more; he could see Emilia was awkward, stiff and hardly interested in putting up with Sirius or entertaining him.
In all his time at Hogwarts, the only people who didn't put up with Sirius' bullshit were his friends, though everyone else seemed more than happy to indulge Sirius in his endless shenanigans, pranks and escapades and now he couldn't help but to wonder if anyone really liked him at all or if they were all just going along with it, with him, so as to not risk his ire; his friends – Remus, Peter and James – they were the only ones who actually cared about him, loved him, and were the only ones who would pull him back from the edge, when he was getting too close to losing himself.
Everybody else seemed more than willing to help Sirius in hitting the button on his own self destruction, laughing with him, or maybe at him? It was all so shallow because they only liked Sirius because they wanted him to like them.
Emilia didn't want him to like her and didn't want to like him in return. But even despite the clear distain she held towards him, a cold disposition and a less than approachable demeanour, Sirius actually did like Emilia, liked being around her. He didn't need to put on an extravagant show for her to like him because she didn't like him regardless of how he was and despite how it should have turned him off, it had the opposite effect in how it made him more relaxed.
Sirius could just... be as him as he possibly could be, just like how he was with James and Remus and Peter. Emilia didn't care about what he had to say or how he acted and it felt all so freeing to know he wouldn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing because technically everything was the wrong thing and it was always so fun to rile her up, get her red in the face, jittery, and rolling her eyes.
She always seemed so serious, always tried to have this unamused about everything air around her, but he was quite good at reading people; he had to be since growing up back home when he was forced to discern what foul mood his mother would be in and it also helped him in making so many of his so called friends. He had misjudged her as being too solemn and too stern, an unsmiling and humourless girl who preferred only the company of the written word (or just anything that wasn't Sirius). In any other case, Sirius might have loathed to have been proven wrong.
But he couldn't deny how he enjoyed watching his perceived idea of her crumble the more time he spent around Emilia.
He noted how clumsy she was with conversation, how utterly socially inept she was and he watched how often her hands would be wrung together, as if she was sorting out the words she wanted to say with her own hands but was stumbling, unable to get them out of being an incomprehensible mess that was as knotted as her tongue would be when it tied itself up because she didn't really know how to carry a conversation to save her life.
It wasn't seriousness that she was afflicted with - it was awkwardness, unsure of how to react to whatever he said and deciding that maybe no reaction was better than the wrong one; she was far too unsure of herself to be so solemn, the initial shyness melting away to something else entirely - uncertainty, self consciousness perhaps? Emilia appeared as if she just wasn't used to talking to other people and Sirius couldn't imagine how she managed to make it through the last seven years without talking to anyone. How was it her voice simply didn't just wither away to dust from how unused it was?
Ideally, Pince would have liked her, though he realised he might have thrown a wrench into that.
It had been fun at first, unravelling her and seeing who she really was, watching her become annoyed and bothered by Sirius; whenever Emilia got super frustrated, her face steadily turned pink as if she was choking on the words she wanted to say. He wasn't sure if she was silent because she didn't want to talk to him, or if she simply didn't know how to talk to him, or to anyone for that matter. Whenever he told a joke and it went over her head, her face would scrunch up as if she wasn't sure if he was being serious or not, or how she was all bark and no bite in trying to rebuff Sirius, rolling her eyes but doing little else to push him away.
She always pursed her lips when she was concentrating in class and he could still remember how the blood slipped from her face when McGonagall gave her detention, such fear and anxiety warping her features he thought she might get sick all over him. And whenever Emilia was deep in thought, deliberating over anything and everything, each thought was so clear to see on her face, unaware that she wasn't as closed off and cold as she had liked to think she was.
So many, little things about her that chipped away at Sirius, made him feel guilty over his original perception of her - how could he have ever thought of her as being so cold and unfeeling when all her emotions were as clear as day to see in her eyes?
The first time he had seen her talk to him so freely was when he decided to ask her about that book she carried around with her everywhere, a gleam in her eyes, an excitement in her voice as she explained it to him, as if he hadn't all but begged for her to do so; he had stared at her, how animated she got, the small smile curving at her eyes, tilting at her mouth and she looked so alive, so...
Emilia had looked… human then, as if she wasn't afraid to actually feel her own emotions.
It reminded him of how long it had taken him to realise that his mother had been wrong about him, that Sirius wasn't rotten to the core and that he wanted and loved and he still remembered the look on his friends' faces when he came back after Christmas in First Year, bruised and a bloodied lip and how they told him it wasn't right what his parents were doing.
Had he been able to, Sirius might have cried.
He eventually did, when he realised that there was nothing weak about crying and that it was okay for him to cry without hearing the echo of his mother's screams about how being a Black meant not being weak, her screeching nearly leaving him deaf.
His friends never delved too much into Sirius' 'girl problems' but the day Emilia had lied for him to Filch, James had asked him what was he going, half heartedly muttering at Sirius what was going through his mind by being around this girl all the time, a girl that clearly didn't like him but Sirius couldn't provide an answer that didn't exist. What could he say to his friend that could make any logical sense? James thought of Emilia as Sirius had in the beginning and it bothered Sirius because he wanted to prove James, everyone, that they were wrong.
And then, one sleepless night after a full moon with Remus' bed still empty and the room far too quiet for Sirius' loud thoughts, Sirius wondered if it weren't for his friends, would he be just like Emilia too? As silent and friendless, on the outside looking in because no one ever bothered to take the time to actually just fucking talk to him?
And then it stopped being solely for the fun, to just get Emilia to turn her mind around about him like it was a chore.
She was always so quick to bite back at him, made him laugh even when speaking with a straight face, kept him grounded whenever Sirius thought he might talk so much that all the air in him would dissipate and he would slip away into nothing. And then she began to smile more, laugh more. She stopped trying to hide herself away behind a book or her hair or the mask that reminded Sirius of his own, and sometimes, when the sun touched Emilia's face just right in the morning, she would glow, like something divine.
He had been telling the truth to her when he had said that he must have been crazy to not look at her and the more she smiled, the more aware Sirius became.
There wasn't anything extraordinary about Emilia, she was just... her, unapologetically her. She didn't feel fake and he didn't have to be fake either, didn't have to put on an act around her, to be someone he wasn't. He didn't have to be Sirius Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, he didn't have to be the Sirius Black everyone would always blush and giggle at, half afraid to even talk to him like a normal human being while ogling as if he couldn't see them.
No, Emilia just didn't care - about him, about who he was and wouldn't hesitate to knock him down a peg or two like his friends would. She didn't give a shit about Quidditch, she struggled with Transfiguration, read that same book over and over again and couldn't get his jokes at times which left him feeling stupid for saying them after watching how they fell flat; she didn't care when he came in from the rain after Quidditch, wet and smelling of dirt and sweat, didn't look at him strange when he let slip anything about his mother or pity him for it. She treated it, him, as normal.
Merlin, and she just was so shit at conversation he wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, but there were times he would catch her with her face screwed up, trying to think of something to say but not sure of how to and Sirius remembered she just didn't have any friends and no one talked to her in return.
During those times, the times when Emilia seemed frustrated at herself for not being able to easily talk with Sirius, he felt bad that he never bothered to talk to her in Fourth Year.
Despite how much she tried to appear like an uncaring and callous person, she just wasn't.
Sirius... he fell short trying to fathom it but couldn't, he just liked being around her, there was no greater reason for it that he could to his friends when they began to push on him more for an answer, and it was easy even if there were times he didn't understand her entirely; when she didn't seem perturbed over the way blood was dripping down her torn knees and marring the curve of her jaw, when she risked lying to Filch for him and James which saved them from being put into detention until the end of the year, when she had asked him to come to the library to study with her and the fact she didn't care people talked about her behind her back and called her that vile, disgusting word.
When she had reached out to him, took a hold of his sleeve but it felt she was holding all of him in the entirety of her palm and had told him thank you.
Sirius had been so angry on her behalf, so blinded with fury that he couldn't help but convince the others in getting back at the other Slytherin that had managed to escape with only a bump on his head and he was put into the infirmary alongside his friend for a week with his head inflated to three times its normal size.
Emilia was just so unequivocally her that he couldn't help but do the same, relaxing around her and not feeling like he needed to put on a show for her because she rolled her eyes at him regardless if Sirius was pretending to be someone else or not.
Fuck, he didn't know how Emilia did it but she did and didn't even seem to notice it. The first time he had managed to coax a laugh from her, it rung on in his chest, bells that echoed loudly and knocked against his heart, threatening to break his ribs because he had thought she was pretty but now it was just something he knew.
And then Sirius wanted her to like him instead of just putting up with him, to like being around him, to like talking to him and to stop hiding away because she had such a pretty smile and he wanted to see more of it, to keep it all to himself because Emilia was his friend, he was the one who was making her laugh when no one else was.
And Sirius thought that for once in his life he wouldn't ruin it.
He hadn't meant what he said, not like that and in no way did he mean to demean her to be nothing more than an amusing trinket for him to play with, to keep him occupied whenever his friends weren't around. It had just… slipped out of his stupid gob, one of those rushing moments when he wasn't thinking about what he was saying because he had become far too comfortable around Emilia that of course he didn't think; he was always reckless like that and Remus, as well as Peter and James, had admonished him for it numerous times, for his behaviour that was driven by his own uncontrollable emotions that he felt a slave to.
Too reckless, too hot-headed, too proud.
Too much his mother's son.
Yet another trait of the Black family that was stuck with him no matter how much he tried. It's why his mother and he had clashed so much – their wild tempers were too alike in many ways and could never cool down. He had been trying to keep his anger in check, to not let it control him like it was prone to do but sometimes it was just so hard not to punch someone in the face whenever they said something so stupid and now Sirius wishes he was one of those idiots he could just knock his fist into; he was just so bloody furious at himself, at his words and how sometimes he just didn't think before he spoke or acted out and he desperately wanted to just punch himself in the face.
A voice not unlike his mother's haunted him, laughing at him for messing up yet again, that he would never be able to do anything right by anyone. Instead of letting it consume him, Sirius ground it into the dirt, with all the other useless shit she had told him over the years since as far back as he could remember.
He was not his mother's son, he was more and beyond anything that she could ever dream to be.
Sirius Black was liked, loved, wanted, and he would never let that slip through his fingers.
Space, maybe space was what Emilia needed, wanted, and Sirius could do that; he could give her all that and more if it meant that she would smile at him again and no longer looked at him with those beautiful eyes filled with hurt.
hello, hello! Before I get into me A/N, I would like to answer a few of your reviews!
Momochan77: Sirius is definition of being smart but having no braincells /j. it hurt so much hurting emilia like that bc i know and we know and everyone knows sirius would never be so callous to his friends and it doesn't help that emilia is trying to get over her overthinking and anxiety and then,, whomp.. there it is. anyways i hope you enjoy this update!
OryxGreen: fijapfwaik thank u so much! you have no idea how ur reviews and constant support and love for this story means the world to me, it genuinely makes me feel so confident and excited to write because i know that i have my readers who will always support me! i just love marauders dynamic and im so happy i can incorporate more of them into the story now! sirius and emilia are the same but also so different in how they do process trauma (i swear we're going to see a lot more of emilia's trauma wooo boy) but in also their stages of accepting it - sirius largely come to terms with the abuse he faced at the hands of his parents and overcoming the years of brainwashing, but emilia has not yet had that happen to her, so her process of accepting trauma will be a lot more arduous and prevalent in this story. i hope you enjoy this chapter and thank u so much for all the support!
jueves56789: sirius is the smartest dumbest mf around i love him so much ahfioea
megancl99: believe i love writing angst so there will be a lot more emotional angst down the road! i didn't want sirius and emilia to just have a perfect friendship from day one - they're not going to communicate right, not understand each other and its about growth and learning from that and moving past it at the same time. no good relationship is without growth and conflict! thank u so much for ur review and i hope u enjoy!
Radioactive59: fjaipoejfpaw thank u so so so so SO much! reading ur review has made my week! the marauders are all these close friends who all understand each other and now theres this stranger who is like "these mf work on a hive mind level type shit" and she doesn't want to force herself into their friendship. this story is not just about a sirius x oc, it's about a young girl growing and letting go of her own insecurities on her own terms and learning that it's okay to let other people in! i mean, she is a teenager - i was a lot more ~angst~ filled when i was her age (i sound so old omg). thank u so much for ur continuous support and love and i hope u continue to do so!
iloveashandaquinn: thanks so much! believe me, i love writing abt the whole gang of them as much as you guys like reading it!
HisLordFluffiness: i hate peter with a passion but i dont see him as being annoying in his school years, rather he's definitely someone who wants people to like him so kind of goes with the flow of what everyone else is doing. I actually started a POV of his that will be way down the line of this story but i love getting into his head and by the time i publish it, it will really reveal a lot of things regarding his part in the story. I'm so glad u enjoyed! i know miscommunication is a bore but i really felt like it fit both of their characters - sirius is clumsy with his words and emilia overthinks everything that she brings herself into a panic.
LoveFiction.2021: thank u! i hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
Kaiya's Watergarden: thank you so much! I hope you continue to support this story!
humbabi: emilia is such a dote i love her because she really does deserve the world; and dont worry, a lot if not all of Emilia's family backstory will be all revealed in chapter 20!
StayStrong26: thank you so much! Emilia definitely reminds me of my own teenage years even if we're so vastly different; i feel so old but i swear im not, but a lot of teenagers (myself included) dont have a safe place to talk about their emotions or are dismissed as merely being angst filled teenagers and they really internalise their emotions, i know i did until it all just exploded in me one day. and unlike most her age, emilia doesnt have friends to talk to about these things so this story is really about not only about a growing relationship between her and sirius, but really about emotional growth and the processing of past trauma. thank u so much for all ur kind words and i hope u enjoy this chapter as well!
VERY IMPORTANT NOTICE: i will be returning to uni on monday so updates will become slower as it is my final year (just where has the time gone :') honestly i cant believe it's been three years nearly!). i have up to chapter 18 written and i wanted to give an early update because i don't know if i would be able to update on time tomorrow, so tadah! next week i will try to update on the thursday, which is our regular schedule time.
song of choice while writing: last words of a shooting star by mitski (which is where i got the story title from!)
Thanks for reading!