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chapter sixteen.
Avoiding Sirius was a lot harder than Emilia had anticipated.
She was putting all her energy into giving him the cold shoulder as she nursed her hurt like a feral dog, licking at the wound and becoming angry whenever she would recall as to why it was there. The longer she kept it up, the more impossible it felt to let it go. Even if she burned that bridge, the smoke was still choking her, burning her up on the inside until everything was ash.
And it hurt.
It hurt a whole fucking lot.
If she had anyone to talk to, Emilia was sure they would tell her that she was overreacting or they might roll their eyes and say it was her teenage hormones acting up and causing her to make mountains out of molehills but her feelings were real and they were sore and bruised and, God damnit, she was allowed to be upset. After a while, Emilia stopped trying to refuse herself to feel the hurt of it and it was a quick, consuming fire that rushed through her and left nothing in its trail.
She might have been inclined to hear Sirius out, but not now, not while what he had said was still smothering her; Emilia still couldn't believe how stupidly hurt she felt over his words, because what had she been expecting? That he actually wanted to be friends with her? It might have made her laugh had there not been a chance it would have brought her to tears as well.
Self deprecation was a soothing balm for her aches, remembering that no one had wanted to be her friend for seven years, so why would anyone, let alone Sirius Black, start now?
Maybe he had become disinterested with the dating pool that he decided the next best thing was to just annoy Emilia to sate his boredom; in the beginning, she had hoped that if she played her part oh so perfectly for him, then he would just have the common decency to leave her alone just as she had wanted.
She didn't think she would fall for her own ruse and Emilia wondered how she survived seven years without any friends prior to Sirius.
It was silly, she was silly and Emilia's mind took this vein of thought for a long while after their fight.
Fight, spat, whatever it was, it didn't matter now. She felt hot and cold, hating herself and then hating him, wanting to crawl back for forgiveness and then wanting to continue ignoring him.
Sirius didn't seem to care about what was tearing Emilia apart as while she might have reverted once more to her old attitude towards him, he didn't seem inclined to do the same, didn't seem to want to go back to ignoring her like she was nothing to him.
Well, she was just that, at one point. He hadn't even known her name, or that she existed last month; Emilia wished for those times instead of waking up every morning wondering if he'll talk to her or her to him, or if he'll sit next to her, or walk by without looking at her.
Emilia knew that she was selfish by nature; she wanted it all, but some humble part of Emilia denied it all to her.
Or maybe it was her pride that was already minced and crushed to nothing.
Or maybe she just could never make up her mind and it didn't help that Sirius continued to sit next to her in their classes as if nothing had happened between them, even if the air felt icy, thick and cracking in her lungs and piercing her heart whenever he would shift in his seat and his leg brushed against hers or his elbow ghosted her arm.
Emilia didn't want him sitting next to her, didn't want him sometimes catching her eye and giving that stupid half smile which would promptly make her turn away from it, didn't want him making her feel hurt over the fact she was nothing more than to amuse him; God, she had barely known him for a month – or, rather, he had only known about her existence for a month and it was ridiculous she was getting so torn up about this.
She always had such a great control over her emotions but that was only because back then she used to just grind them into the dirt with her heel and ignore them with hopes they would simply disappear; but they had become bloated, feeding and becoming monstrous, a shadow in the back of her mind that was looming over her and making it impossible for her to turn the other way.
Emilia wanted nothing more than to just force herself to stop caring, to stop feeling hurt that he had used her as a tool of amusement; she tried picturing him as being just like the kids in her old primary school who used to talk to her like she was a dumb pet, that she was an animal in the zoo that they would gawk at because she wasn't raised on mummy and daddy's money like they were and her accent wasn't as posh as theirs and how she used to cry over everything and anything.
But as much as she tried projecting that image onto him, it didn't fit, cut from a different cloth that she couldn't stretch over him and she still had those little pieces of parchment he had drawn on in Charms, of the caricature of herself looking too short with messy hair and big, wide eyes.
Emilia didn't know what was eating away at her more: the fact he had never really seen her as a friend or the fact she was mad at herself for getting as emotional as she did and not just pushing it down so she could pretend that she was okay with it; the skin around her fingernails were a mess from where she was picking at her skin in an effort to help sort through her emotions in a bid to file them away, her hands looking ghastly as she pulled open old cuts and scars in order to ground herself whenever she became overwhelmed.
Emilia refused to let herself look in his direction lest she might be reeled in by how comically hurt and apologetic he tried to look whenever their eyes would briefly met; despite her trying to convince herself that she had gone so many years without having friends that she should be able to survive another few months, but, God, she couldn't even deny how awkward she felt sitting in silence with Sirius whenever he planted himself beside her.
It actually surprised her that, however much he ignored giving her more than an arm's length of space, he wasn't trying to bother her or bully her into talking to him, that he was actually listening to her about not wanting to be talked to.
He had never done that before, so why now?
Why was he finally deciding to listen to her and stop trying to mess with her?
That foolish part that felt all too entirely selfish tasted somewhat of disappointment while also being vindicated in her fear that maybe he had never really wanted to be around her in the first place and that her sudden outburst had made Sirius realise how much of a freak and a weirdo she was.
So what if he does? Emilia inwardly grumbled to herself, trying to convince herself that she didn't care if Sirius thought that she was an unsocial freak and that she wanted nothing more than to go back to that time where he didn't even know Emilia existed and she didn't care about what he to say or what he thought.
The amount of effort she was putting into acting cold and not acknowledging him would have been laughable if it didn't leave her drained. Her pride won against the raging desire to just turn to him and just talk; her aunt was the shining example how to treat a man whenever slighted, to turn the nose up and look the other way and Emilia had spent too many years growing up under her to know anything else.
At least in Transfiguration she could use the excuse of listening to McGonagall and trying to focus on turning a bluebird into a Border Collie (she had managed to turn it into a pig that ended up vomiting over Dorcas Meadowes and Edgar Bones); but Potions proved a challenge with Slughorn deciding to pay little attention elsewhere but his star students, lingering in the corner of the classroom on the far side while hovering over Lily Evans' shoulder and consistently complimenting her on her work and giving no indication that he could hear other students whispering, Marlene trying to copy her tablemate's potion or Thomas and Amanda whispering to one another, giggling under their breaths with their shoulders pushed up against each other.
Emilia gave a grimace at the two love birds, grumbling that at least someone at their table was having a good time.
She was in a sullen mood and denied herself the desire to cast a glance over to where he was, could only see the way his hands were cutting up his ingredients for their current task at making Draught of Living Death; despite how much she wanted to draw her gaze up, Emilia gave her a pat on the back for doing a good job at not looking at Sirius especially considering how his pretty, grey eyes would try to draw her in.
Instead, Emilia focused on her work, careful not to catch her fingers under the sharp edge of the knife as she tried to make sure she wouldn't mess up; Thomas and Amanda weren't even trying to be quiet as the Slytherin girl let out a snort of laughter, hand going to her mouth in surprise at the sound leaving her, her dark skin turning a bright shade of crimson but Slughorn didn't even appear to notice all the while Emilia tried to school her features so they wouldn't see how exasperated she was becoming at their messing amount.
It wasn't their fault, not really, that Emilia was on her last, frayed thread of patience as she tried to not let them pull her focus away from her work, head bowed and jaw clenched and wishing she could just work away in peace.
Slughorn didn't pay any heed to the fact most of his students were barely working, the round bellied professor now standing at Severus' side with a hand on his shoulder and showering him with praise for his potion. Emilia thanked God that the old professor had given up on her entirely because she couldn't stand it when he used to sidle up beside her, hand on her shoulder and head bent low with his moustache twitching with a smile, forcing down a shudder at his touch.
Her eyes had not meant to wander, she had fully intended to bring them straight down to where she was chopping up her ingredients but without her knowledge, they betrayed her and found their way to the boy beside her, everything in her slamming to a halt when meeting Sirius' stare, his hand pausing stirring the ladle in his potion.
Something in Emilia cracked as she became unable to look away from him; this was the first time she had acknowledged Sirius since her explosion at him the previous week and just as quickly as she had looked, Sirius turned away, as if embarrassed to be caught staring.
A grimace carved itself onto Emilia's mouth as she did the same, remembering the echo of his words once more that solidified her wavering resolution to not talk to him; she had forgotten how much it hurt, when he had demeaned her into being little more than a toy for him to play with and Emilia couldn't believe that she had thought that Sirius had… that he had possibly thought of her as being anything more than that.
And, above all, she couldn't believe that she had wanted them to be more than acquaintances. Emilia had felt silly over being so excited about him calling her a friend that it made her cringe when remembering her reaction and how joy had swelled up in her chest like a balloon.
She couldn't even continue cutting up the sloth brain as she stared down at it, her unfinished potion in front of her, bubbling and frothing, the heat of it alone just as dangerous as it would be when finished.
How much longer would she had to be stuck down here, in this damned place with enclosed walls, trapped with Sirius and trying her best to act as if she didn't want to actually look at him but her own pride refused to let her indulge in this want, this need, screaming at her not to, that she needed to stand her ground and not to let her crumble to nothing in her hands; but the longer she stared down at her hands, the tighter her chest felt, goosebumps rippling across her skin that most definitely not due to the cold until she couldn't fight it anymore and her eyes began to hesitantly inch up but her eyes quickly found that cool, grey sky already turned to her, only this time Sirius didn't look away in embarrassment, or in shame.
In fact, she could see a stain marring his features, guilt pulling at them and a knowing look in his eyes and Emilia realised that maybe she wasn't as great as an actress as Sirius had told her once because he was taking in the way her corners were tugged down, her eyebrows knitted together and her body was stiff, rigid and stuck and unable to look away from him. He had spent just enough time around Emilia as she had him, she wasn't the only one who learned to read his face, his features that would contort at his emotions would try to claw their way to the surface.
Now, an apologetic expressed was trying to be seen and the sight of it made something stir in Emilia, something deep and wanting, aching. Suddenly, in the face of it all, her own hurt and slighted feelings didn't seem to matter as something like a smile began to flourish, small and gentle, soft on his mouth and Sirius grew relaxed under Emilia's gaze, as if relieved to know that he wasn't entirely invisible to her.
She couldn't return the smile, not just yet, but she swallowed that tightness in her throat, forcing it to join that jumbled mess of emotions behind her ribs as the tension in her shoulders began to drip away.
It wasn't an apology, it wasn't forgiveness, but it was a step.
Maybe she could tell him how sorry she was for such an embarrassing display of emotions, maybe they would be able to laugh at how hurt she was and pretend it wasn't such a big deal.
Sirius opened his mouth as if to whisper something to her when there was a crash, a shattering of glass followed by a piercing, girlish scream that made Emilia jump where she stood, dropping her knife and letting it clatter to the ground with a sudden carelessness as her hands covered her ears, muscle memory kicking in as she ducked, crouching to the ground in fear that something would go flying at her head; from under the table, she could just see pairs of shoes scramble away from where someone must have knocked themselves into Slughorn's shelves and his jars filled with ingredients, dead insects and some with barely alive bugs were spilled all across the floor, screams and shrieks drowning the silence in the room.
Some jumped onto their seats to save anything crawling onto their feet and up their legs while others made a dash to the far side of the class room as Slughorn tried calming down the pair of Slytherin girls who had been the ones to knock down the glass jars, with one girl crying at their professor to get the insects and intestines out of her hair.
But Emilia could hear none of it; her hands were blocking it all out, a ringing soon splitting her skull as she remained ducked, hair blocking out the pale light of the dungeons and leaving her in perpetual darkness as her heart quickened, strangling her and making it hard to breath.
She felt seventeen going on seven, that terrified feeling smothering her lungs and swelling up in her chest like a balloon, leaving her with quickening gasps for air. In the back of her mind, she could hear muffled shouting, the torn throat that was screaming at her and the shattering of amber glass that exploded after narrowly missing her head, the stench of alcohol that Emilia knew wasn't real filling her breaths. She could still feel that single piece that managed to hit her on her cheek, slicing it and leaving her with a single red ribbon that was melting crimson wax down her cheek.
It was an old memory, a fragmented corpse that was dug up from the deep, dark recesses of her mind that she couldn't help but flinch at, the smell of drink that didn't exist being all that she could smell. Emilia couldn't remember what it was that had sent her mother into a fit of rage this time, all she knew was that her mother was angry and it was best to let her ride her fury out.
Her fingers wound themselves in her hair, pulling at the strands and pinpricks of pain exploding in her skull as she tried to ground herself; it wasn't real, she wasn't there, it wasn't real, she was here, it wasn't real, she was safe, she was in school, it wasn't real, it wasn't real –
A hand on her shoulder, so sudden and so warm that it sent Emilia jumping, her head clipping against the lip of the table harshly, nearly sending it flying entirely as pain burst on the top of her head, in behind her eyes before snaking down her neck and making her teeth rattle, the wooden legs of the table lifting as she knocked it before her hands moved from her ears to the crown of her skull; a hiss escaped Emilia's lips, a wheeze being wrung out through her lungs as her eyes squeezed shut and the agony in her head left her entirely blind, unable to see as something rough knocked against her ribs.
The air was punched from her chest, leaving her winded as her body was pushed backwards from a force much stronger than she before her back hit the wall, the stone not at all any way kind to her spine as they meet, hands once more acting as a cushion to protect her skull to stop it cracking like an egg and leaving her brain spilled out on the floor with a concussion. The ringing in her ear subsided but the yelling around her drifted from ones of an old memory to something far too real, commotion ensuing and leaving Emilia dazed as she forced her eyes back into focus, ignoring the way the room spun and seemed blurry.
Near her feet was her cauldron, upended and steam curling off of the spilt potion that was currently bubbling on the stone, the puddle just about stopping at Emilia's feet and leaving her out of harm's way, just escaping being burnt by it.
A crowd was gathering around her and she looked around to see people looking down at her – no, not at her, past her, concern stretching on their shocked faces and she turned to see Sirius on his knees, cradling his arm with gritted teeth, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
Emilia's eyes dart to the cauldron and then to Sirius again, knowing she didn't need to be made of genius' cloth to know what had happened and Sirius shifted his weight back, trying desperately to keep his features calm; Emilia could see his arm, red and angry, skin peeling back and threatening to snap over his bone and her stomach flipped and turned, nausea forcing itself up her throat as a hand went to her mouth. She wasn't sure if it was done out of shock or to stop herself getting sick, tingling in her eyes as she felt a wetness gather at the corners.
Amanda was shouting for Slughorn, going around the side of the table to where Emilia was, side stepping the half made potion, and placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder as the gathered students continued to whisper and turn green at the sight of Sirius' injured hand. "Are you alright?"
Emilia felt that if she opened her mouth to answer her question, her breakfast would be making a quick reappearance.
All Emilia could do was stare, at the potion, at Sirius' arm and at him – his face was trained, a mask identical to his own face but he was pale, a sheen on his forehead and she gaped at him in horror, realising that he had pushed her out of the way after she managed to knock the cauldron over.
How, why?
She stared at his arm, shaking hand pressed to her mouth as Amanda's hand was making soothing motions up and down her arm but she wasn't the one who needed help, she was the one who caused this. She had been so fucking stupid and blind and now Sirius looked ready to pass out from the pain and yet –
And yet he looked to her and gave a ghost of a smile.
Slughorn bumbled over, face twisted up and shooing away the class as he quickly stooped next to Sirius, blocking Emilia entirely as he waved his wand over Sirius' injury, before reaching into his pocket and uncorking a liquid that was a bright, fluorescent pink before pouring it over Sirius' arm, the black haired boy turning away and Emilia feared his teeth might split under the pressure they were under.
"There now, my boy, the worst of it is dealt with," Slughorn tittered, trying to make light of a situation that had gone to worse. "You'll get to keep your arm, so no worries! I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to deal with the rest."
In a fashion unlike Sirius, he gave no quick quip as a reply and was looking sicker and sicker by the moment. "Thanks, Professor. I'll go now."
"By yourself? Certainly not, you might pass out in the halls!" Slughorn exclaimed, his moustache looking particularly ruffled as Sirius used his good arm to clutch the edge of the table and pull himself to his feet, not really caring for what the professor was saying.
Emilia scrambled to her feet, feeling ill to her stomach and hands shaking. "I'll help him."
Sirius' eyes found Emilia again and shock flickered over his eyes, a veil hiding the pain as if he was surprised Emilia wanted to help him. Did he really think she would let him suffer all the way to the infirmary by himself? Maybe he did, after how she had acted for the past week; she couldn't deny the guilt she felt that was eating her up inside at the fact he thought she hated him enough to watch him be in pain.
Emilia wasted no time in stepping over the mess of her previous potion and quickly took Sirius' uninjured arm, both hands holding onto him and trying to get him to lean his weight up against her as Slughorn gave a clap of his hand and swished his wand to Vanish her toppled work and the cauldron.
"Thank you, Ms. Greene, you might hurry along now so that Madam Pomfrey may be able to save his arm." He most likely said it as a joke to lighten the mood but it did little to make Emilia laugh before she gave a tight, curt not and helped steer Sirius out of the room, surprised he was able to walk on his two feet in a straight line and wasn't slumped over from the pain. "Now, off with you. Everyone else, back to work, no more dawdling about!"
There was little else to hear besides Sirius' laboured breathing that began to worsen the more they walked, climbing up the stairs and it seemed he was quickly expending whatever energy he had into pretending to be okay and soon Emilia had to wrap his good arm around her shoulders, the sight might have been comical all things considered due to the fact her head only managed to reach just below his shoulders and was desperately trying to hold him up straight.
Her stomach was a mess of nerves, of guilt and blame and there was that burning sensation in her chest that was quickly eating its way upwards, tingling in her eyes as her nose began to become blocked, the threat of tears looming in the shadows. Her eyes kept drifting up to check if Sirius is alright, taking in his face that looked as if all the blood had dropped down in an instant, his brow shining with sweat and features twisted in trying to hide the agony; it made Emilika grab her bottom lip with her teeth to bite down on it to prevent it wobbling, shifting his weight and trying not to crumble underneath him.
The stifling silence became too much for Sirius, his voice gravelly but coherent, not yet lost under the ocean of pain that wanted to drown him. "Looks like my plan to get out of that bloody class worked, finally. Hopefully I won't have to go back for the second half."
He sounded breathless and Emilia was unable to pipe up and offer her voice as a distraction, her heart choking her words in her throat as she couldn't help but risk a look at his arm, the skin just as angry and inflamed as it had been when she first caught sight of it and blood is bubbling on the wound.
It was her fault, she was the reason he was hurt; if she had been more careful, if she had been more aware of her surroundings and not got caught up with dead people and forgotten memories, then he wouldn't be like this, he wouldn't be in pain.
She hobbled in her walk, trying to get Sirius as quickly as she could to Madam Pomfrey as she really hoped that Slughorn was only joking about him losing his arm.
But her worries seemed unable to be silenced; his arm looked ruined, beyond repair, and as talented as Madam Pomfrey was, Emilia feared over the possibility that the Healer wouldn't be able to fix what she had damaged, and then what? He would be maimed, scarred for the rest of his life in the best case scenario and it would be all her fault.
Her lack of response stirred Sirius' voice from the bottom of his chest again and this time, his words wavered slightly, lacking their usual bravado. "You know, I'm feeling a little light headed, can you, uh, can you keep talking so I don't pass out?"
Her? Talk? Emilia felt like she might get sick if she opened her mouth and there was this horrible lump in her throat and a stinging in her eyes, nose becoming harder to breathe through but it was her fault and she couldn't retreat into herself. She had to help him in any way she could, straining under the weight of him and wracking her brain for something to talk about.
"I got my Herbology essay done yesterday. I left it until last minute, last minute for me anyways. It's due by next week," Emilia said, voice wobbling as she spoke and she cast her eyes upwards to see that Sirius was nodding along to her words, showing that he was still semi-conscious. Her hand around his wrist tightened and she could feel his fluttering pulse beneath the pads of her fingers, giving her the comfort that at least his heart was still beating. "I'm not great with plants. My aunt tried gardening but everything kept dying. It was either Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures, but as much as I like pets, I'm not great with animals – "
Her word vomit came to a sudden halt as Sirius stumbled, Emilia only managing to catch him in time and haul him back to his feet, a glean on her brow from the exertion and her emotions were a mess. Her legs were in pain and there was an ache in her neck from where Sirius was leaning against her and Emilia refused to look at his injury in fear she might spew up what little food she had eaten that morning and then slip in it.
Her mind drew a blank, mouth opening and closing as her voice withered away to nothing, breath straining in her chest as she heaved one in through her teeth. "I'm – I'm sorry, I don't know what else to talk about."
Her voice was shaking and her bottom lip quivered, feet nearly tripping over themselves and she half feared Sirius had fallen unconscious when he didn't respond until she looked up at him, face drawn in thought through the pain.
Emilia worried he was going to keel over on her before he spoke, soft and steady. "What's your favourite book?"
"My - my favourite book?" She repeated, his question leaving her stunned and confused, though not spending too much time thinking about why he would care since Emilia knew he was simply trying to stop himself from falling under the veil of unconsciousness.
Her favourite book, what even was her favourite book? She had reread The Hobbit so many times that she knew it like the back of her own hand, but it wasn't her favourite, per say. She had read so many in her life that she couldn't possibly choose, could she?
But, for Sirius, she would.
Emilia searched her mind, trying to remember anything before she managed to dig up one memory, of a book that she had read once in primary school that had been a birthday gift to her from her neighbour, Mrs. Halabi; the older woman knew Emilia's fondness for the written word and woman had said that such a book would both challenge her and leave a mark on her soul forever.
Emilia had treasured it partly because it had been a gift and also because the woman had been right.
"My favourite book is Pride and Prejudice. It's a Muggle book. It's set in the Regency era and it's a romance book."
"You… you like romance books?" Sirius said it as if it were a shocking revelation, which Emilia supposed it might be. Unlike other girls in her year, she didn't have the opportunity or interest to date but that did not mean she didn't want to; part of Emilia, perhaps like nearly every teenage girl however much she did not wish it, wanted what she read in books and saw in plays and in movies.
In other circumstances, Emilia would have fretted over Sirius laughing at her for reading romance books but that sort of worry was nothing now, like grains of sand on an open palm during a storm and here she was, offering it freely and wholeheartedly. Her tongue felt too fat in her mouth, stuck to the roof of her mouth as she struggled under Sirius' weight while she offered up a half hearted laugh that sounded as hollow as she felt.
"Yes, I like romance books. I love romance books," Emilia revealed, ignoring the nervous murmur of her heart as Sirius gave a hum to indicate he was very much still conscious and listening. Emilia didn't care if she was babbling or not, her usual self consciousness taking flight as she tried to fill the silence lest it force Sirius to succumb to it. "I had a copy of it in primary school. I read a lot in school. It's a love story between the daughter of – of a country gentleman and a man who's of a higher social standing. They don't get along at all. She hates him for most of it."
He gave a scoff, swallowing roughly and the apple of his throat bobbed, floating nervously as he tried to ease the aches flaming throughout his body. "I thought you said it was a love story? What kind of love story is that? Sounds like my parents' marriage."
"It is a love story. She changes her mind about him later when… when he starts to show her everything she thought she knew about him was wrong," she reiterated, voice trailing off and words dying and not sure what else to say. She opened her mouth again, words slipping out without her permission. "It was my favourite book. I lost it when the kids in my old primary school tore it up and flushed it down the toilet."
Emilia cursed at herself for letting that slip, might have hit herself across the head at any other time as a frown flittered across Sirius' face. His eyes seemed hazy, morning fog over green hills in the height of Winter and his skin felt just as cold. "That's mean. Why would they do that?"
"They didn't like me. I'm not very likable," she spluttered, words on a string that were tied together and fell one after the other without her even realising what she was saying until her heart seized up and her jaw clamped shut lest she might say anything else embarrassing; Emilia hoped what she said went over Sirius' head and looked to him, only to see his eyelids were closed, raven like eyelashes fluttering and he nearly fell forward entirely had it not been for Emilia using every ounce of her strength to haul him upright, worry choking her, leaving no room for air as her heart felt ready to burst. "Sirius? Sirius!"
The sound of her voice spurred him, making him snap his head upright from where it was slow to fall on his chest and he lessened the weight of his tall body from Emilia as they turned a corner and Emilia all but sobbed with relief to see the doors of the infirmary before them, hand gripping his wrist as the other was wound around his back. "I'm fine, just nearly nodded off there for a moment."
Emilia angled him so that only her body was used in her effort to push open the large doors, an ache in her shoulder as the wood resisted before it gave way under her straining, using her foot to widen the gap and slip both her and Sirius through. "We're here."
"Fuck, I'm knackered," Sirius groaned, nearly stumbling over himself.
"Madam Pomfrey!" Emilia called, voice wavering and shrill, a brief echo calling back to her before said Head Nurse came out from her office, a grumpy look on her face as per usual.
"No need for yelling, what is it?" Madam Pomfrey snapped before she took in the sight of the two students, of Emilia's small figure barely managing to hold up Sirius, who seemed all too ready to collapse at any moment. Pomfrey's spine straightened and her face was wiped of it's unimpressed look and went into Healer mode completely. "Set him down over here. Quickly now, child."
It seemed whatever strength he was using to keep himself up was depleted and Emilia hobbled over to the free bed, trying to be as gentle as she could as she helped him down on the mattress, hands shaking as Sirius fell back, body contorted; Emilia had to lift his legs up on the bed and tried not to look at how pale and sickly he was, but especially kept her eyes away from the rip in his arm, trying not to upheave the contents of her stomach onto the floor beside his bed and make matters worse.
She had to pull herself together, she could fret about whatever she wanted to later and tear her nerves to shreds but now all that mattered at that moment to Emilia was Sirius.
Sirius' eyes cracked open, the grey glassy and like a mystic ball in how hazy they were before he cracked a half smile. "'Ello, Poppy."
Said Healer didn't look the least bit pleased at Sirius' lack formality but didn't seem inclined to correct or chastise him as she raised an eyebrow, taking his hurt arm and inspecting it, wand in hand. "Got yourself into a spot of trouble, did you Mr. Black?"
Sirius managed a shrug despite his current state. "Just a small bit, nothing I can't handle."
"Usually I'm tending to others who are on the wrong side of your shenanigans," Pomfrey murmured to which Sirius responded with a large grin, beaming at her words. She continued with her wand going up and down the injury before giving a nod to herself, slipping it in the front pocket of her apron and shaking Sirius' shoulder when he seemed ready to slip off into sleep. "Come on now, sit up, don't be nodding off."
"Is, is there anything I can do?" Was that Emilia's voice? So soft and shaking? It had to be, the words came straight from her mouth.
Madam Pomfrey finally spared Emilia a glance, arching a thin eyebrow. "Nonsense, girl. Mr. Black won't be dying any time soon."
"There goes my funeral plans," Sirius groaned. Despite his joking, he wasn't looking well – his skin resembled parchment that had begun to become mouldy. "There was going to be a hippogriff and all. Everyone was going to wear a bikini."
Pomfrey ignored his joking and kept her eyes steady on Emilia. "He'll be alright, go back to class now."
Emilia swallowed, trying to shove down the rock that was lodged in her throat and blinking furiously in hopes it would push the tingling sensation away, an itch she couldn't scratch and she knew she looked ridiculous, pathetic even with her eyes slowly reddening, matching with her splotchy cheeks.
The last thing she wanted was to be in the way, or be a burden, so instead Emilia gave a nod, breath hitching in her throat and the thread keeping her together was slowly unravelling but she would not come undone here, she needed to pull herself together and get out of the way. She made way to leave before Sirius spoke up.
"Can't she stay?"
Emilia froze, slowly turning back to see Madam Pomfrey staring down at Sirius with a disapproving eye despite his current condition; she might as well have put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him with the expression that was on her face. "There's only one person here who needs tending to, Mr. Black. Why would a healthy person need to be in an infirmary? This isn't a hotel."
He mulled over her words for a moment, looking to Emilia before turning back to the nurse. "She's my emotional support witch?"
Emilia's tongue was tied and she all but tripped over herself trying to speak up. What good would she be to Sirius in this situation? It was her fault he was here in the first place, she might end up making it worse, the thought of which made her emotions that were already out of her control worsen, eyes glistening and voice croaking. "I'm sorry, I don't want to be in the way. I just…"
I just want to help, I just want to make sure everything will be alright, I just want to make sure he's okay.
Her voice died off, lingering on the air around them before bowing to silence and Pomfrey stared at her with those hard eyes, darting around Emilia's face and without a doubt seeing the wetness glimmering in her eyes, at her red tipped nose that made it impossible to breathe through and her constant sniffling.
A crack in the nurse's mask appeared and something like sympathy shone through for the briefest of moments before it was fused back together again and, finally, she relented.
"Fine, take a seat there. No messing about," Pomfrey snapped and Emilia was quick to listen to her instructions, pulling the seat beside Sirius up closer to his bedside and sitting with her hands under her legs to stop herself from doing something like reaching out to him. Sirius gave a meek 'woo' at his request being granted, raising his good arm in victory, before letting out a yelp as Pomfrey grabbed his arm to sit him up probably. "Come on, Mr. Black, stop your whinging."
"Will you make me pretty again, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked aloud as the nurse bent to rummage in the table beside him, pulling out potions with barely readable labels and different colours in the amber glass.
Pomfrey didn't even look at him as she began squinting at one potion in particular, nodding to herself and then uncorking it with a pop! "I'm not a miracle worker, Mr. Black."
"Maybe a scar will help reel in the ladies," Sirius half slurred to himself and Emilia might have laughed to make him feel better had she been sure it wouldn't have dissolved into a wretched sob.
"Enough talking, drink this," Madam Pomfrey ordered, holding it up to his nose and the smell of it made Sirius blanch.
"What is it?" he asked, hesitantly taking it in his good hand and sniffing at it again, face pulling up as a result.
"I can make it look like hot chocolate, make it smell like hot chocolate, but it won't taste like it."
"Fine, whatever. It can't be that bad," he said, taking a moment's pause before he placed the rim to his lips and tiled his head back, drinking it all in one go, the action causing him to nearly splutter and spit it up before Pomfrey seized a hand down on his mouth, forcing him to swallow it all and, when satisfied he had done so, she let go, leaving Sirius to go into a coughing fit. Emilia rose off her chair, hands going to reach out to him, to touch his arm, his hand, anywhere to see if he was alright before planting herself firmly back down under the threat of Pomfrey's glare. Already, colour was returning to his cheeks. "Shit! That's rank!"
"Language, Mr. Black!" Pomfrey chastised half-heartedly before unscrewing the lid to a periwinkle coloured balm, the smell of which stung Emilia's nose, and making her stomach twist at the thought of how much it would sting on an open wound. It seemed the very same thought ran through Sirius' mind as what little colour that had returned to his face seemed to be dripping away. "Now stay still while I put this on, no moving."
Sirius gave an inaudible gulp before wiping the worry off of his face, that trademark half smirk on his face that didn't seem as convincing as it usually was. "Don't worry, you know better than me that I have a high pain tolerance."
At his words, a dark look passed over Pomfrey's face, a grimace flashing across her sharp features but she gave no reply, instead moving to scoop the balm with her fingers, tossing Sirius another warning look to remain still before she began to spread it across his arm.
It was instant; his body stiffened and Emilia worried that his perfect, straight teeth would crack under how tightly he clamped his jaw shut, his good hand taking to gripping the sheets, the soft cotton under threat of being ripped apart from how tight his hold on them were; a vein jumped out from his temple from the strain of it all, the pain leaving him rigid and Emilia felt pathetic, helpless from where she sat, her mind leaving her in shambles as her thoughts ran rings around it.
All she could think of was how this was her fault, that she should have been more careful, she shouldn't – shouldn't have seized up as she did, should have been more aware of her surroundings and should have fucking got a hold of herself, to not let herself be so easily bogged down by old memories that didn't even matter anymore.
And now all she could do was sit there and watch him suffer for her mistakes.
How could any apology she give be sufficient enough, after what had occurred between them even before all this happened? Her bottom lip remained locked between her teeth, the flesh nearly bursting under the pressure and her hands growing numb from where they were trapped under her legs; Sirius' face was turning into an assortment of colours, from grey, white, green and even yellow and there was a moment Emilia wondered if he was going to end up passing out due to the pain.
But then he turned to her with a sharp turn of his head, sweat glimmering on his drawn together brows, dark fingers of his hair stuck to his temples and forehead and Emilia tried to train her face away from the horrified and upset expression it had been wearing as Madam Pomfrey whipped out her wand, murmuring spells beneath her breath before another layer of the balm was applied.
Emilia couldn't look away from Sirius' eyes, was helplessly lost in them before a movement and there was something resting against her knees; his hand outstretched, palm upwards and it was clear to her, instantly understanding what it was that he was asking and Emilia doesn't hesitate to place her hand in his, ignoring how sweaty his palm was as she cradled the back of his hand with her other one. He squeezed, careful not to break her fragile bones and she returned it, watching as Pomfrey repeated each step of murmuring spells and applying layer after layer of the balm.
True to his promise, Sirius didn't utter a single sound, watching as new skin was grafting itself over the burn until it replaced the angry, bleeding sore with something soft and pink, a delicate scar that was shrinking.
His grip on her hand lessened with each passing moment until he held on to Emilia loosely, thumb absentmindedly brushing over the back of hers, body relaxing and looking more like himself and craning his neck to get a peek down at what Pomfrey was working on before she stepped back, pleased with her handiwork.
The worst was over and damn Slughorn for making Emilia believe that Sirius would have to undergo an amputation.
"That's all? I thought it would be worse. Didn't even feel a thing so I didn't," Sirius stated and his voice sounded steadier, more like him and that light tone was back in his words again, eyes alert and voice no longer slurring. He made a move to sit up and get off the bed, hand still holding onto Emilia's as if he meant to bring her with him before Pomfrey's hand clamped down on his shoulder and none too kindly pulled him back down into the mattress again.
"Where do you think you're going? You can sit right there in that bed," she ordered with a narrowed gaze at him, screwing the lids back onto everything she was using. "Your skin is still sensitive that any sudden movements can rip what I've repaired and you'll bleed out."
Sirius gave a snort and roll of his eyes as Pomfrey's words made Emilia's spine stiffen, wide eyed with horror and Sirius looked to the nurse, the grin on his face melting. "Wait, you're not joking?"
"No, Mr. Black, I'm not," she told him with a stern tone in her voice, leaving no room for debate. "Lie down. Bed rest and plenty of liquids is what you'll need. I'll be back in a few minutes to get you your medicine."
The two Gryffindors watched her turn her back, walking away and drawing the curtain around Sirius' bed shut.
He was left speechless, blinking after what Pomfrey had just said turning to Emilia in disbelief.
"She has to be messing, right? She never makes jokes but she has to be taking the piss," Sirius said, pulling a face when he tried shifting his weight on the bed and looking down at his arm, careful as he lifted it to his face for inspection; the new skin was tender, as if it were five months of recovery sped up in a matter of minutes and Emilia knew that had he not been holding her hand, he would have poked and prodded at it until the surface broke again. The thought made her tighten her hold on his hand. "Well, at least I get to miss class, silver lining and all that."
Despite his obvious attempts at jokes to lighten the mood, Emilia tried desperately to fight against the tears that were heaving like an ocean inside of her, every breath a turn of the tide with waves crashing inside of her, ready to pull her beneath the surface and drown her completely; what was she even crying for? She wasn't the one who had been hurt, she wasn't the one whose arm was a mess, wasn't the one under risk of breaking skin and bleeding everywhere; she had no reason, no right, to cry.
But it was all her fault; if she had been more careful, if she had just fucking watched where she was going and hadn't jumped as she had when his hand came down on her shoulder, then he wouldn't be here, nearly having entirely lost his arm. Emilia's chest tightened, a pain blooming in her bones, burning her lungs as she tried to keep herself together but it seemed impossible; she couldn't do anything right and it was her fault that Sirius was lying in this bed, that he had been hurt.
Sirius had been the one to push her away from the cauldron dumping its contents on her head, saved her from being injured beyond repair; after how she had acted, after all that Emilia had said and how she had blown up on him like she did, why, why, why would he do that? Why had he pushed her to safety and put himself in harm's way?
But why did Sirius do anything that he did?
God, and she felt, knew, that she was being so selfish, focusing on herself while he was lying in bed and his hand holding hers and why had he not yet yelled at her for being so stupid and so careless?
Her bottom lip was trembling and she couldn't breathe or think through her tangled emotions, everything swelling up and making a wetness leak into her eyes as her throat tightened; it was as if she was caving in on the inside as Sirius turned to her, that untroubled, untouched goofy grin on his face falling when he saw her sitting there, wet and wide eyed, tears clinging desperately to her eyelashes in hopes she could save them before they could fall.
But Sirius could see them instantly and he pushed himself up into a seating position, grey eyes growing concerned.
Why was he concerned for her? Why was he concerned at all? He should be angry, furious at her. Growing up, Emilia was taught there was never supposed to be any room for mistakes and if she made any, she deserved the consequences of her own actions.
But Sirius didn't seem angry; he looked worried, worried for her. "Emilia? Are you alright?"
Her mouth opened but all that was heard was a croak, a cry that was the final pull of the thread that was keeping her together and then the first tear fell, followed by another and another and Emilia couldn't think of the last time she cried.
It had been so long that the act itself felt unnatural.
"Emilia?" he repeated her name with more urgency this time and pulled himself upwards, tugging her hands that held his closer to him and she needed to get herself together, this wasn't about her, she needed to stop being so stupidly emotional. What good were tears for her? How were they going to help him? Her crying used to annoy her mother and aunt alike and it never helped her before.
A stilted, shaky breath rushed into her lungs, easing the ache before she washed it away entirely, uncurling the hand on the back of Sirius' to reach up and scrub her eyes with her sleeve. "Why did you push me out of the way?"
Silence filled the air between, save for Emilia's sniffles and shallow, unsteady breaths.
"Are… are you joking?" Disbelief flooded his voice and Emilia's eyes snapped to him, her vision blurry from unshed tears that quickly spilled down her cheeks, like water over the lip of a jar. His face was filled with surprise, mouth parted and he was uncharacteristically dumbfounded.
"Sirius, you're hurt!"
His head tilted to the side as he looked to said injury, flexing his fingers and admiring the pink skin before turning to Emilia once more. "I know, I was there."
Emilia didn't care for the joke as her nose became blocked to the point she was heaving breaths through her mouth, the air not quite meeting the bottom of her chest and leaving her gasping for more but it was never enough. She tried mopping up her wet cheeks with her sleeve but it seemed no matter how much she scrubbed the skin dry, more would slip down and ruin her hard work.
Emilia couldn't bear to open her eyes and have Sirius see her like this.
"You arm is as mess because of me. You shouldn't have done that! Your arm… what if you can't even play Quidditch?" Her voice croaked and the words were broken in between gasps of air that were dissolving into a heaving sob that tore through her. Sirius' hand was tight around hers. "What if I had finished my potion? You… you would have never woken up and then –"
"Emilia, if I hadn't pushed you, it would have fallen on your head." Sirius' voice was stern, sharp, trying to talk sense into Emilia without being overtly harsh; logical, but kind and trying to talk her down from her emotional peak and she finally dropped her arm, eyes red and throat raw from the gulps of cutting air she was sucking in. It should be her comforting him, not the other way around and annoyance at herself flared in Emilia.
"So? It was my fault, if it fell on me it would be because of my own actions. If something happened to you, if Madam Pomfrey couldn't have helped, I…"
She couldn't bear to finish the sentence, let alone have the image in her mind but it sent her spiralling again, a cry strangled in her throat as she ducked her head, hair slipping to act as a curtain to hide her as she used her free hand to cradle half her face, shoulders shaking and how Emilia wished she had not stayed; at least if she was alone it would be easier to push it down inside of her, instead she was in front of him, in front of her own carelessness and she couldn't ignore it, couldn't ignore Sirius. Guilt ate Emilia whole, leaving her empty and void, her own sobs echoing in her skull.
She doesn't have the courage to look at Sirius in the eyes, afraid she would see disgust in his features at her embarrassing display of emotions; she felt him pull at her hand until she had no option but to follow, finally looking up as he shuffled on the bed, tugging her from her chair and wordlessly helping Emilia up onto the bed beside him, his legs resting behind her as her own dangled in the air, barely brushing against the ground.
His expression was unreadable as he now made it his turn to hold her hand in both of his, completely engulfing hers and his skin was a lot warmer than it had been when she had first hauled him into the infirmary and Emilia looked to her lap, droplets warm and wet down her cheeks, gently caressing her like the hand of a lover she would never know.
"Emilia," he said firmly, trying to get her attention and a moment passed before she forced herself to peer up at him through her damp eyelashes. There it was again, that kind look on his face, gentle and reaching out to her. "Emilia, please don't cry."
"I'm not," Emilia croaked, the lie useless but it made him smile nonetheless, so she didn't feel entirely bad about it.
"You kind of are," he pointed out and it calmed Emilia for a moment, swallowing down the lump in her throat and the tears, while still coming, slowed down.
"I just… Sirius, if something happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself and I know that – that it's selfish, but I wouldn't," she admitted, voice torn up and quiet as she lost all courage to keep his gaze, turning to her lap where her skirt was an array of darkened spots from where her tears had fallen. "It's my fault you're hurt and you shouldn't have done that because – because it was my stupid, fucking fault that I knocked the cauldron down so it didn't matter if it fell on me because I had no one else to blame but me."
She could see Sirius frown from the corner of her eye at what she had said and the heat from his hands were burning into Emilia's bones. "Emilia. Emilia don't say that. It isn't your fault."
She shook her head. The fact he had yet to throw her out and tell her to stop her whining was a miracle. "It is."
"It isn't. What I choose do isn't your fault." He was doing it again, trying to be firm and help her see the logical side of things and it made Emilia pause, stopping to take a deep breath in hopes it would calm her racing heart. Then, she felt him release one of his hands to press it to her arm, making Emilia finally turn her gaze back to him and he was smiling, softly, beautifully. "Please don't cry. I'm used to making girls cry but not in this way."
Emilia gave a sniffle, the block in her nose easing away. "What way?"
"Them being worried about me," he said before pausing, a doubtful look crossing over his face. "You are worried about me, right?"
"Of course I am!"
"Okay good. Glad to see I'm not wrong there, and I am touched that you are," Sirius laughed but Emilia couldn't do the same, the tears welling up and wetting her cheeks; Sirius stared at her, helpless from where he lay in bed and she hated herself for getting so upset, she should have just left when Pomfrey told her to, then she wouldn't be in front of him embarrassing herself like this and she worried that he would just see how self centred she was, crying like this when he was the one who was hurt. His voice was low, pleading. "Please don't cry. I would try hug you right now but I really don't fancy the whole 'ripping my skin to shreds' thing to happen."
His words plucked at something in her and only made the tears slipping over her eyes and racing down her face worsen, droplets clinging to the curve of her jaw desperately before the slipped and fell, splattering down onto the skirt of her uniform and staining the material with darkened speckles of salt water. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Emilia, you don't have to apologise. I would much rather this than have it be you lying in this bed. I won't die from a sore arm. The bleeding out part aside, I mean."
"If something happened to you, after everything…" Emilia trailed off, not wanting to say anything further but something flashed in Sirius' eyes; he knew exactly what it was she was talking about and he looked off to the side, features of his face dropping all pretences of joking under the implication of Emilia's words.
She had not meant to bring it up, what use was there to talk about it? Emilia felt like hitting herself over the head but what with Sirius watching her and trapping one of her hands, it made it impossible for her to do so and instead her tongue tied itself up in her mouth as a preventive measure to keep her from saying anything else stupid.
Sirius didn't speak for a moment, Emilia sure that he was just probably deciding on whether to tell her to shove off before he spoke up.
"What I said, it's my fault. I shouldn't have said what I did. I know I said it but… I never meant to hurt you like that," he spoke softly and Emilia met his eyes and there was something on the edges of his features, uncertainty perhaps but her own glazed vision made it impossible to discern. He met her gaze head on, no room for doubt as he spoke. "I hope you don't hate me."
There was no hesitating on Emilia's behalf as she replied. "Of course I don't hate you." And I hope you don't hate me too, she wanted to say but was afraid of what answer she might get.
"Thank Merlin for that," he laughed breathlessly, a mirage of his usual self before it rippled away and he was looking at her like that again, in a way she couldn't comprehend, probably never would, but it was nice to look at all the same. "Emilia I've done many, many stupid things, like unbelievably stupid things, but stopping you from being hurt isn't one of them."
She wasn't sure how to respond, his words leaving her breathless, thoughtless and all Emilia was capable of was a watery smile as she calmed down, a few stray tears slipping down the side of her face, around the curve of her jaw and feeling cold with the air in the infirmary. How was it that their positions managed to switch? Where once she was comforting him as Pomfrey was treating his injury, now it was that it was him that took up that mantle, holding her hand with both of his and resting it in his lap.
His hands were rough, yet held hers so gently that it made Emilia feel far too ashamed for crying, for tears never helped any kind of situation. She had always been told by so many adults in her life that being a cry baby helped no one and her aunt had told her that all she would get was a headache in the end.
But Sirius… Sirius didn't make her feel ashamed for being upset or for crying, not like she had been taught to be.
Emilia was worn with desperation in wanting to ask him why, why was he so nice to her, why was he even put up with her in a state like this? Sirius was… he was just so unfathomably kind to her and it made that feeling in Emilia's chest worsen as she felt herself unable to look at him, fearing her eyes might fall to his hurt arm and instead stared at the way their hands were entwined.
Emilia had never been used to touch, not like this, and part of her didn't like it; sometimes, it made her want to jump out of her own skin.
Her mother, God rest her soul, wasn't exactly the most nurturing of mothers, a trait her aunt seemed to share with Emilia wondering if the amount of wine and cigarettes her aunt would drink had worn away whatever nurturing instinct she might have been born with; and she remembered how the other kids at her primary school used to be, how they would pick on her, pull her hair, push her down and trip her up to the point she still had some scars on her knees. Her uncle's touches comprised of him sometimes ruffling her hair as if she were still a child or awkwardly offering her a pat on the shoulder.
But this was different, Sirius was different – he didn't make Emilia feel like she wanted to just rip her skin off at the feeling of another person's hand pressed up against her; in fact, it… it was nice and it left her arm tingling, burning, but in a good way and she liked it, liked how warm his hand was and how soft it felt to her even if the surface was rough.
She had never held hands with someone, let alone like this, and it made something coil its way around her heart in such a strange, alien way that she could not understand. But Sirius didn't even seemed perturbed by the touch, by the fact it was far too intimate what with considering she was also on his bed, hand resting in his lap.
If anyone were to stumble upon such a scene, Emilia was sure everything would be greatly misconstrued.
But she didn't find herself caring all that much.
"Well, at least I finally got my answer," Sirius suddenly piped up, looking off beyond Emilia's shoulder and his words sent her jumping on her spot, looking up at him and there was a self satisfied look on his face.
"What?"
He looked to her, delight in the grey of his eyes. "Now I know you would actually visit me if I was in hospital."
She gave a small shake of her head, a huff of air leaving her. "You're seriously thinking about that right now?"
"About you?" The smile on his face made it seem that all that happened before didn't even exist, as if the reason they were here in the infirmary never occurred. "Always."
This was promptly followed by a laugh from Sirius as he saw how red her face turned, her hand ripping itself from his as she ducked her head to save face. Despite it, Emilia couldn't help but smile at him.
It seemed Emilia couldn't help it at all when she was around Sirius.
hello, hello! Before I get into me A/N, I would like to answer a few of your reviews!
Momochan77: thank you so much! i loved loved loved writing sirius' pov so freaking much and im glad you enjoyed it! i just love getting into his head and then making him 100000% more angsty than he is usually portrayed as uwu im glad you enjoyed!
OryxGreen: thank you! personally, i feel like sirius' abuse is not talking about nearly as much as it should be and it's often brushed off a lot. i feel like while he has healed a lot from it due to his friends' support, it still affects him and i dont want to just brush over his trauma and abuse so easily. it's important to me that this story isnt a "and then they fell in love and everything was better!" story, it's about them finding comfort in each other but using that comfort for themselves to heal. they're only teenagers, you can't expect them to be the most emotionally mature or developed people in the entire world. it means the world to me u enjoyed sirius' pov!
megancl99: thank you! sirius is a flawed character and person and sometimes he doesnt think things through or doesn't do the best things, but the important thing is that he grows from it and learns from his mistakes, and this story is about a lot of growth and growing up. hope you enjoy this chapter!
Kaiya's Watergarden: thank you so much!
Radioactive59: thank you so much! it really means a lot to me that i dont just brush sirius' trauma under the rug or pretend that he's all okay now because he isn't, he's still a child and he's still hurting from his home life even if he tries to pretend it doesn't bother him. Everyone deals with trauma differently, Sirius and Emilia included - emilia is more of a "accept that it happened and move on" kind of person where as sirius is definitely someone who forces it down and out of mind until it becomes too much to bear and he lashes out before angrily succumbing to it and taking it out on everything and everyone around him. and since the wizarding world doesn't have the best therapists, it's going to be even harder to deal with such trauma at such a young age. i dont want to give too much away about what i have planned for peter (i already have a future pov of his written), but let's just say he's definitely going to be pulling strings behind the scenes. thanks so much! i hope u have a great time in uni! im back one week and already dying from the flu, not ideal x
HisLordFluffiness: thank you so much! i love writing sirius' pov a lot more than i anticipated and i cant wait to write more in future! and dont worry, the angst will be slow to come but when it's here, oh boy, it's here.
LoveFiction.2021: thank u so much! glad u enjoyed reading!
SiriusGirl: Thank you! i loved writing his pov just as much as i hope you loved reading!
JC The Hobbit: omg i totally get you! there's not a lot that me and emilia share in common (i like writing characters that are opposite to me) but a lot of her social skills, or lack thereof, are reminiscent of my own when i was a teen! i couldnt talk to anyone but, unlike emilia, it was because i was so afraid of saying the wrong thing and kept to myself most of the time. ive gotten a lot more confident in talking now but i was so nervous first day at uni i wasn't sure how i was going to make friends! luckily i did and now emilia is on that same journey too. im glad you enjoyed and even that you can relate to emilia!
jjkrainy: thank you! im so glad you like my interpretation of sirius, i know that he might be a bit more angst filled than some depictions of him, but he's only going to get more angsty. i refuse as a writer to dismiss his childhood trauma since it still continued to affect him as a grown adult and i want to give him the healing he needs but through his own way ofc. hope u enjoy this chapter!
sorry for the late update, not to be tmi but first week back at uni and i have a split lip and a busted knee, i have lost 300 euro, my dignity, my pride,,, im also very sick (not from a certain virus) so i really cant remember if i proofread this earlier or not; if you see any typos, be kind and pretend you didnt see it until i can go back over this when ive not a pounding headache and a blocked nose.
mmmmm emotional catharsis and development, good soup.
song of choice while writing: hope ur ok by olivia rodrigo
Thanks for reading!