last words of a shooting star

by toniestark

Emilia Greene could have gone the remainder of her last year at Hogwarts with Sirius Black having no idea she even existed until he managed to publicly humiliate her in front of the whole school. In her defense, she thought he deserved more than the slap she gave him.

27. chapter twenty-six

I do not own any characters or places unless stated otherwise.

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chapter twenty-six.

Professor McGonagall's gaze was piercing as she glowered at them over the rim of her oval glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, eyes darting back and forth between Sirius, then Emilia and back again as she took note of their drenched appearance and the bluish hue their skin had taken from the cold. Emilia kept her jaw clamped to prevent her teeth from chattering noisily as she stood rooted on the spot in front of McGonagall's desk, clutching her book tight to her chest and ignoring the chilling feel of water dripping down the back of her neck.

To say Filch had practically dragged them in before the teacher by their ears wasn't entirely a lie; Emilia had seen McGonagall's soured expressed at the sight of Sirius being pulled in by the caretaker before Emilia was rushed in after him, a momentary flicker of surprise on the professor's sharp features. There had been yelling on Filch's part, promises of justice on McGonagall's, muttering of revenge from Sirius but Emilia spoke not a word the entire time.

Now, a silence waged on as McGonagall continued to inspect the two students, and Emilia had no doubt the witch had an abundance of questions but was unsure of where to start, or maybe she didn't even want to know. It made her shiver from something other than the cold, which was bad enough in and of itself. Sirius stood close to her and Emilia couldn't help but to conspicuously press the side of her body up against him, partially to leech some of his body heat, and partially for comfort, reassurance as they continued to be inspected.

Finally, a tired sigh bled past McGonagall's lips as she finally relented and turned to Sirius, a thin eyebrow arched. "Mr. Black, why am I not surprised that it was you Mr. Filch pulled in here?"

With their close proximity, Emilia could feel Sirius' minute shivering as he scoffed, brows furrowing together, not at all cowed before the sharp eyes of McGonagall. He must have grown used to it after some time. "Are you implying that I've become predictable? I've never felt so insulted."

Emilia half expected a reprimand from the elder witch, but nothing came but the other eyebrow rising alongside its companion at the comment. Then, McGonagall diverted her attention towards Emilia and the latter attempted to not wince and cower beneath her stare, a feat almost impossible by nature. "You on the other hand, Ms. Greene, I am surprised to see."

It was said with such ladened disappointment that Emilia couldn't stop the crack that flashed across her face, flinching at the words as her head stooped slightly to save her skull from having a hole bore through it from the intensity of McGonagall's stare. A pit formed at the bottom of Emilia's stomach, opening up and threatening to throw out what little she had eaten that morning as her arms tightened around the book clutched in her arms. "I'm sorry, Professor, it was an accident."

A huff left McGonagall, as if none too pleased by the explanation. "Tardiness, truancy, general bad behaviour – "

A cough broke through and Emilia cast her gaze from the cobbled stones that currently held a gathering puddle at her feet towards Sirius, who didn't appear the slight bit sheepish at the accusation. "Professor, correct me if I'm wrong which I rarely am, I don't see how trailing water through the corridors is considered general bad behaviour."

McGonagall was not at all amused by the correction. "Causing a mess in the castle where Mr. Filch will undoubtedly have to clean up after you does not constitute as good behaviour, Mr. Black."

Sirius waved it off, reaching up to flick a droplet of water hanging from his jaw off, apparently not as afflicted with the chill as Emilia was, despite her still wearing his robe that had quickly become saturated with the lake water as soon as she had put it on. "It's just water. It'll dry within the hour."

"How many students will fall over themselves in the meantime?" McGonagall questioned dryly, but her voice lacked any real sternness, as if she knew how ridiculous Filch was being over some water. At least, that's what Emilia hoped; she could never tell what the other witch was thinking, unreadable as her face was.

"If they manage to slip over the tiniest bit of water, then that's on them," Sirius murmured under his voice, a grumble drenched in sarcasm and he crossed his arms over his chest though Emilia wasn't sure if it was to preserve some of the heat in his body that was being sapped away or as a show of his impatience with this whole situation.

Not wanting Sirius to incite anger in McGonagall that would result in them scrubbing the floors from now until Christmas, Emilia took a grip of Sirius' bicep and squeezed, hoping to reel him back in someway while shooting him a knowing glance from the corner of her eye, one that he returned by pressing his lips tightly together in understanding before Emilia turned to the professor with a sincere look of regret mingled with an apology. "Professor, we really didn't mean to cause a mess, or be late to class. It really was an accident."

Turning her piercing gaze from Sirius, something in McGonagall's softened – no, not softened, as if she was more inclined to hear them out. McGonagall laced her fingers atop the thick, wooden slab of the desk and peered at Emilia over the rim of her glasses and Emilia tried to keep her lacklustre spine upright. "Then I should like to hear this excuse that you have."

Even if she did tell the truth, Emilia knew that there was no logical explanation for her actions at the lake; the longer McGonagall continued to stare, the quicker Emilia's resolve deteriorated under it, as if the professor's pupils were pickaxes that chipped away at her courage steadily. Emilia faltered, mouth dry, and her hand around Sirius' bicep tightened impossibly more. Sirius' gaze was trained on her too, as if waiting out of curiosity to see if she would tell the elder witch the truth before she had the chance to tell him.

"Well, you see," Emilia began, slightly stammering but trying to not let her nervousness seep onto the surface. It was hard trying to maintain eye contact with the other witch, feeling her insides wilting away as she desperately tried conjuring up an excuse, but nothing was coming to the fore. It was either reveal the horrible truth or come up with a terrible lie. Neither were appealing. "The thing is…"

"It's my fault, Professor," Sirius cut in, spine straightened as though a steel rod had been placed there instead of bone and Emilia's eyes swivelled to him, nearly popping out of her skull as she stared agape at Sirius. He was no longer looking at her, gaze trained straight ahead at McGonagall without a hint of cowardice, his bravado as encompassing as it was futile. "Emilia had nothing to do with it."

Emilia's mouth parted in shock as McGonagall's thin brow quirked upwards at this confession. "That I don't find hard to believe."

Emilia's eyes bounced back and forth in disbelief over the fact Sirius had so readily thrown himself into the fire right in front of her and their professor who swallowed the lie far too easily for Emilia's liking. Her throat scratched out a sound of frustration as she shook her head, looking to McGonagall in a bid to stop Sirius for taking the blame for something he simply did not do. "What? No, Professor, he's lying. It's my fault – Sirius is completely innocent, he's not to blame at all."

McGonagall appeared as though she would have sooner believed the sky was red than ever consider the possibility of Sirius being innocent of, well, anything. "That I do find hard to believe."

Sirius shot Emilia a sharp scowl, displeased that she was trying to undo his martyrdom and he gave a quick shake of his head, trying to discourage Emilia from speaking further but Emilia simply glowered back at him, refusing to back down and let him burden the punishment for something that she was the cause of.

Irked, Sirius looked to McGonagall, who seemed very unhappy about watching the two bicker over who was at fault for any of this. "Professor, don't listen to her."

"No, he's trying to cover up for me," Emilia refuted and stepped forward closer to the desk, her shoes squeaking against the stone and water trailing after her as she did so, trying to convey her sincerity in her words so that Sirius' name might be washed free of any blame. Sirius' hand was around her arm and she tried shaking him off, tossing a glare at him over her shoulder. "Professor, it really was my fault and Sirius is only trying to take the blame."

Sirius tugged at the arm within his grasp, pulling Emilia back to his side and now neither were even bothering to look at the very person they were trying to proclaim the innocence of the other. Thin trails of water dribbled down the side of his face, slipping around his jaw and down his neck, a singular drop clinging to the tip of his nose and his features were taut, frustrated that Emilia was not letting him take all the blame. "I'm not trying to take the blame from you because it is my fault."

She did not cower, did not back down and instead remained staring into Sirius' steel, grey eyes that reminded her of a cloudy day in the height of December, storming and crackling with thunder. "No, it's not. Stop trying to be a hero, it's my fault and my fault only."

"Ms. Greene. Mr. Black," McGonagall snapped, intervening between the two and both students looked to the professor, who seemed impatient with the whole ordeal. A strained sigh left her as McGonagall slipped her glasses off of her nose and pinched the thin flesh there between her fingers, massaging the bone in circular motions to ease off a growing migraine before she put her spectacles back on, her eyes like tiny needles prickling into Emilia's skin. "I do not care whose fault it is."

Sirius and Emilia shared an unsure glance with one another, doubting this turn of events and Sirius' hand on her arm loosened, sliding down until it brushed against her wrist, circling it like a bracelet and he was only slightly warmer than she was. Emilia's eyebrows knitted together in confusion at McGonagall's declaration, feeling as if she was being led into a trap and had yet to see the bait being dangled out in front of her. "You… don't?"

McGonagall studied Emilia for a second, taking in the sight of her hair ladened with water, to her soaked uniform dripping onto the ground and to Sirius' robes on top of her own. It made Emilia that bit more conscious, as if she needed to feel so any more. There was something about McGonagall's eyes that could make someone wish a hole would open up beneath the ground and swallow them whole.

"Ms. Greene, why is it that both of you are soaking wet as if you've just had the entire body of the lake poured on top of you?" McGonagall put forth and Sirius must have opened his mouth to answer the other witch in Emilia's place because the professor's sharp eyes darted toward him. "Not a word out of you, Mr. Black."

Quickly in Emilia's mind ran a million excuses, lies and potential escape routes she could take out of the classroom but they all turned to ash on her tongue the longer she maintained the stare with the professor, mouth dry despite the fact she was sure she had inhaled half of the murky water from the lake.

She couldn't lie, it wasn't within her no matter the unbearable weight of Sirius' eyes that were locked onto her. Not being able to meet it made it slightly easier to choke her answer out, though she imagined Sirius was mentally screaming at her to say anything but the truth. "That's… that's because we were in the lake. I was in it first, and then Sirius came in after me."

Despite the stilled silence from Sirius, she was sure he would have groaned aloud if he was allowed to.

McGonagall gave no indication of whether she believed Emilia or not, lips pressed tight like she had taken a bite out of an exceedingly bitter lemon. "And why were you in the lake?"

Her teeth settled into the age old carved grooves onto her tongue, as though she wanted to stop her voice from pushing forth. She knew that, at this point, there was no point concealing what happened – McGonagall was going to find out one way or another.

"I…" She began, faltering and once more dropped her heavy gaze to the worn corners of McGonagall's desk, taking a false interest in the notches and scratched faded upon the wood. Her entire face felt far too hot while the rest of her body still remained chilled, like she was still beneath the surface of the lake. "I lost something. I went to go get it. Sirius came in after me to help me."

She refused to meet McGonagall's eyes and could not tell if the witch believed Emilia or not. Her heartbeat was too loud in her ears, pressure building behind her ribs. McGonagall stewed in her own thoughts briefly, as though trying to decide if what Emilia had said tasted of the truth. The professor seemed to delight in drawing out a lack of response before Emilia heard the briefest, sharp exhale. "And that is it?"

Through her eyelashes, Emilia spotted how McGonagall had raised a single, thin brow. She gave an awkward bob of her head in agreement, throat caught.

"That's it," Emilia echoed, cheeks inflamed and she was sure steam was coming off of her in plumes from how warm her face had become, embarrassed from recounting the tale to McGonagall. She felt entirely too small before the other witch, trying not to cave in on herself and curl up into a small ball until she folded out of existence.

McGonagall chewed on Emilia's words for a stretched few moments that became taut and sharp, stealing all air out of the room to the point even Sirius shuffled back and forth on the spot, the puddle formed around his feet making lame, lapping sounds beneath his shoes. Emilia wished that she could reach out to grab onto him – his hand, his arm, his sleeve, some part of him to tether herself to.

Finally, Sirius cleared his throat, uncharacteristically sheepish as he had some sense of humility to bow his head in an air of shame, a sight Emilia was sure McGonagall had not witnessed in quite a long time. From the corner of her vision, he saw him push back straggly curls of his hair, a strained expression on his face as he spoke through barely noticeable chattering teeth. "Are we in big trouble, Professor?"

McGonagall tapped her index finger on the wooden surface of her desk, leaning back in her chair as she considered the two students before her, darting back and forth between the both equally sopping wet Emilia and Sirius, and then back again. She was entirely unreadable, closed off with no cracks to pry apart and discern.

Finally –

"You should be."

Emilia's spine straightened and her head shot up from its bent angle weighed down by embarrassment, blinking as her brows furrowed together; perhaps there was more lake water sloshing around in her skull than she originally thought because if she wasn't wrong, Professor McGonagall had just said should – not are, not you will be, but should. Quickly, her gaze swivelled to Sirius who seemed to have the same doubts about what the professor had just said, a look of confused disbelief marring his handsome features.

Slowly, Sirius turned back to McGonagall like one would do towards a wild animal so as to not incite a rash action, treading carefully as though he was on ice. Her heart was nervously caught in the back of her mouth, ready to plummet down into her stomach and out onto the ground at any given second.

"Does that mean that we're not?" Sirius asked, desperately searching for an elaboration.

But McGonagall was not merciful to give one. "It means that you should be in trouble."

Trading a glance with one another again, equally as befuddled as the other, Sirius pressed on. "Is there a 'but' coming after that?"

McGonagall did not respond right away but instead took the time to observe the two of them, to take in the sight of their soaked clothes, their nearly blue coloured skin and how Emilia tried to contain her shivers and whatever it was that she saw was enough to wear her down as she finally relented and gave in.

"But – "McGonagall drew a long, exaggerated breath like she didn't want to be there just as much as they didn't and finally sat forward in her chair, straightening her spectacles, clicking her tongue and peering at the two of them reservedly. She picked Emilia as her target and it made her hair stand up on every inch of her body, like she was being seized up as a meal about to be devoured. "But considering the state Ms. Greene is in, I think it best not to dally."

At the comment, Emilia immediately glanced down at herself, at the speckled puddle formed from her dripping uniform and Sirius' robes that were now damp in its effort to soak up the remains of her dip in the lake from earlier. She could feel her hair plastered to the back of her neck, snaking down her collar and feeling slimy on her bare back, pressed coldly against her cheeks and forehead; she knew she looked awful, like a drowned cat, but she didn't think she looked that bad.

"We… can go?" Sirius said in pure shock.

"Unless you would prefer to remain around and sort out the Second Year tests for me?" McGonagall snapped and Sirius shook his head furiously, giving a nervous bout of laughter as he began to back away from the professor, his hand fumbling around for Emilia's, their fingers like ice and skin slipping making it hard to gain a proper grab of one another.

"No, no, we'll get out of your hair. Might make a worse job of it than you would want," Sirius joked, trying to make a haste exit lest McGonagall change her mind and have them scrubbing the halls with toothbrushes. Emilia's feet stumbled over one another as Sirius pulled her after him, tugging her hand as their fingers melded into the spaces between each other, like they were always meant to fill that void.

She was about to do as Sirius was silently instructing when her other hand brought itself up to clutch at his own and she felt the weight of something in her hand, finally remembering what she was clutching and she turned back to face the other witch, pulling Sirius to a confused halt. "Wait, Professor. Can I ask a favour?"

McGonagall perked a thin eyebrow. "A favour, Ms. Greene?"

"I was wondering if you knew of any spells to fix this?" She asked, bashful as she held the book out for the other witch to inspect. "It's… sort of wet."

Emilia was ready to expect McGonagall to snap at her and tell her that she should be grateful that she wasn't given detention until the end of the year, yet only silence came. Sirius tried giving a futile tug of her hand to yank her out of the door but Emilia refused to move, feet planted firmly.

Then, without much ceremony, McGonagall lifted her wand resting beside her hand and with an ever so subtle gesture, waved it towards Emilia where she felt a gentle, soothing gust of air ghost around her hand and when she blinked, the book was once more dry again, as though it had not just been through the wars.

"There. And while I'm at it – " McGonagall raised her hand, dipping it ever so slightly and the next thing Emilia knew, a warm breeze surrounded her suddenly, like she was being wrapped in a fluffy blanket and in the same instant it came, it went and so did the chilly touch of the lake. She looked down at herself to see her clothes bone dry, feeling her hair drift down around her shoulders without dripping all over her. She turned to see that Sirius was the same, except his usually perfect hair was now a bit frizzier than usual, like a black cotton ball had glued itself to his head. She might have laughed if they were any other situation. "I would prefer not to see both of your faces again for the rest of the day with Mr. Filch pulling you in here to me for a second time. Now go."

With that, Emilia needed no further invitation to scuttle out of the door, Sirius finally getting her compliance as they backed away, the boy giving his usual beautiful smile as they put more and more distance between them and the professor.

"Thanks so much Professor, I swear to be on my best behaviour. Until after Christmas that is."

Emilia could see from even this far how McGonagall's eyes sharpened and a chilly air flourishing around her. "Just leave, Mr. Black."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Sirius mumbled and both turned tail, practically scurrying out the classroom, the door being yanked open as they shoved themselves through it and the pace was kept up even when they were safe, footsteps echoing through the empty halls. She had forgotten that class was still in session, leaving the corridors to be void of any other soul, including Filch, but themselves.

They continued their march in silence through the castle, hands clasped together and Emilia peered down at where they were entwined, the sleeve of Sirius' robes all but swallowing her whole but she could just see the yellowed skin stretched over Sirius' knuckles, her body still just that bit too numb for her to feel how tightly he was holding onto her. It was like when they were both in the lake, as though he still thought she was ready to dive beneath the surface once more and was clutching her to prevent that from happening yet again.

Sirius' eyes swivelled over his shoulder, prompting Emilia to do the same but unsure of what they were supposed to be checking for and was unable to stop herself from knocking into his shoulder when he halted to a sudden stop, steadying herself before she had the chance to fall back on her ass.

Sirius heaved a wheezing sigh, hand clutched onto his chest like he wanted to reach in to grab a hold of his heart and beat it into submission. "Bloody hell, that was close."

It was close, too close for Emilia's liking.

But for some reason, some unfathomable reason, McGonagall had decided to not give them due punishment which was uncharacteristically merciful of the professor who had readily doled out detention at the mere sound of chatter in her classroom. She didn't even want to think about why they had managed to evade getting shackled with detention, all that mattered was that they did. Emilia was half tempted to slump to the ground in relief but her legs remained steady, weak but still somehow strong enough to keep her upright.

"Why do you think she didn't give us detention or some other punishment?" she asked aloud, hating how her voice echoed within the too empty hall for fear that the sour caretaker might pop out of the shadows and start shouting at them once more.

But it was just the two of them – her, Sirius. Alone. Emilia wondered when she had started to prefer it like this.

Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes and tried raking his hair back from its straggly, curtained position around his face; Emilia resisted the urge to laugh at the sight of his hair being so unusually untamed, hand twitching to aid in brushing it back into its usual perfected position. She had no doubt she continued to look like a drowned rat, dry or not. "Because she knows how ridiculous Filch is being over some water on his precious stones."

She hummed, nodding gently in agreement; Filch was a man who was more inclined to extremities than any other members of the faculty, so no wonder McGonagall was not as keen to indulge his behaviour. Still, that did not mean Emilia was eager to test his temper by loitering about, especially if Filch were to find out about their lack of any consequences for ruining his so called precious stones. It would be best if they returned to class, no matter how late they were.

And yet.

And yet at the same time, in this moment consisting of the two of them and no one else, she did not want it to end; she did not want to go back to class, did not want to go to the Common Room or anywhere else that would destroy this uncaptured moment of the two of them. She was sure that there would be stares following her until Christmas break, and the chilly remnants of the lake could not be banished even when all physical traces of it were gone.

She swallowed thickly, the shame of it all coming back to her.

"Why did you try taking the blame?" Emilia finally broke, looking up at Sirius and eyes desperately darting around his beautiful features that were cast in the cold light seeping in through the windows, sweeping across his cheek and casting his curls in a bathing glow, making his hair appear more purple than ink black. She couldn't tell if the way she was forced to squint was because of how harsh the fingers of sun were on her vision, or if it was because of just how much of Sirius there was, as though it pained her to set her gaze upon him for too long.

Grey met her own and his face was a tattered tapestry of confusion, shock, and disbelief. Emilia felt the way his hand tightened around hers, the pads of his fingers pressing into the back of her own briefly, like he wanted to leave a physical mark on her soul. His skin was warm, warmer than hers – perhaps it was because he had not spent as much time in the lake as she had, or maybe it was because he was always able to light a fire up within her with a simple touch. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you didn't do anything wrong," Emilia stated simply and it was true, yet for some unfathomable reason her words seemed to make Sirius appear even more befuddled by this.

"Neither did you," he retorted, as though it was plain to see. But all Emilia could see was Sirius and his inclination for martyrdom. Then, he heaved a breath and shrugged, her arm connected to him flopping slightly at the action between them. "Besides, I'm used to always being in trouble. You looked like you didn't need another thing on your plate."

Sirius gave her a once over and it prompted Emilia to do the same, taking in the sight of her dried clothes that did little to ease the ice formed on her bones and at how grey her skin appeared from being beneath the frozen surface of the lake for some time. She wanted to snap back at him that she got it, with first McGonagall and now Sirius remarking on her appearance and that she was under no illusions that she looked to be the picture of health.

But none of that mattered, and she knew that was not Sirius was referring to.

The way he was gazing at her was more than just seeing what lay on the surface of her, it was as though he was desperately trying to find any cracks to pry apart and finally discover the painful, horrible truth she had kept bundled deep within her for so long and now – now it was time.

What had been nipping at her heels since Halloween had finally sunk its teeth into her, teeth ripping through flesh and bone, but… but she could not find it within herself to care anymore; Emilia was exhausted – exhausted of running, of hiding, of keeping it a secret and wanting to speak but being to frightened to do so, while not knowing why she was so terrified. She could not outrun it any longer and she didn't know how to feel.

Was it relief? Reluctant acceptance? A terror of the unknown, of what was to follow? It made her heart seize up, returning her eyes to Sirius and feeling as she had standing before McGonagall but it filtered away the longer their stare continued; Emilia knew she had been a fool – a stupid, silly, ignorant, selfish fool.

And Sirius didn't even bother to hide how he felt about the matter anymore, as if he was just as depleted from energy as she was and his worry was tenfold the longer they peered into one another's eyes and that same guilt that had gnawed at her at Halloween worsened; he had only ever been worried, concerned for her and she, in her foolishness, waved it away.

They were friends and she had acted, made him feel, as if they were otherwise.

Shame and remorse were bitter as Emilia swallowed thickly, ignoring the unsteady wave of air that left her lips, breaking eye contact and instead turning her attention to their linked hands, to the way his fingers slipped between hers as though the spaces there were always meant to be filled by him, how sturdy they felt, feeling an ember sparking beneath her skin.

"I'm fine, I just…" It was a mumble and she didn't know how to get it out, how to say the right thing because as desperately as she wanted to forget all of this ever happened and live her life pretending otherwise, the other part of Emilia didn't want to, but she felt like a child taking its first steps – wavering, shaky, not knowing how to go forward.

But if she fell, a part of Emilia knew that Sirius would be there to catch her. He might joke about it, take the piss out of her, but he would be there.

Yet still, she paused, unable to drag out an explanation that was caught by her own fear that continued to remain hidden.

As if sensing her hesitation about how to go about this, Sirius squeezed her hand tightly, tethering her back to reality and pulling her from the back of her mind where her thoughts would sooner devour her alive than ever be spoken to life. He seemed equally as unsure, but he was better at this, at these things – talking, understanding, empathising. She had always floundered, flopping like a fish out of water and gasping; how did he do it? How did he manage any of this, manage to put up with her?

"Do… do you want to talk?"

Emilia peered up at Sirius through her lashes, and could see how unexpectantly awkward he appeared, faltering and biting back on whatever it was he really wanted to say. Emilia knew without him telling her that it had been bothering Sirius - Halloween, her reluctance to give an answer about it all, how shut out she had been.

And yet, despite knowing all that, she continued to let him linger in how discontent he was about her refusal to open up.

"Talk?" she echoed.

"About what happened. About everything," Sirius stressed like he was testing the waters for her reaction but there was still that uncertainty lingering around the edges of his words as he considered her, searching for any sign that she might snap at him to leave it be and to not bring it up again. But even when finding no sign of her having an inclination of doing so, Sirius looked away, regret flashing across his features as he scratched the back of neck with his free hand, his usually perfected mane of curls now frizzy and messy like a dark cloud around his face. "We don't have to, if you're uncomfortable, or if you're not ready, or if – "

Heart dropping, Emilia quickly shook her head, returning Sirius' tight grip and she stepped closer, as if refusing to let the chance get away from her again. She didn't want to be a coward anymore, she didn't want to let Marina think she could get away with how she treated her. Emilia was done with the harassment and humiliation and if even telling the truth would lessen the burden, then she would not let it slip through her fingers, not again.

"No," she began, cutting him off immediately. "No, I – I want to talk. I want to."

Sirius did not bother on concealing the look of surprise that stung him before something akin to relief washed over his handsome face, shoulders dropping and there was a hint of desperation hanging about him, as though he was afraid (actually afraid) that Emilia might take it back. "When?"

Once, she might have said later – days, weeks, months, never. Anything to put off from speaking it into reality. But she couldn't do that anymore, not to Sirius. It was the least he deserved after all that he had done for her and after what little she had reciprocated in return, always falling short in one way or another; if this was what she could do to finally give back all that he had given, she would let him take it all gladly.

"Now. If we can, I want to now." Emilia was done keeping it a secret - it was not her shame nor her actions she was protecting, and… and she didn't want to hurt Sirius by not being truthful with him, by not being as open as he was to her.

Despite his restlessness, Sirius dragged his eyes up and down Emilia who, despite being completely bone dry with his robes sitting heavily atop of her own, probably did not look any better for it. There was still a chill lingering on within her that she couldn't seem to shake, though she knew it would disappear in time. And not to mention, she did not want to lose this sudden bravado and courage.

"You don't need to see Madam Pomfrey?" he questioned. It felt like he was giving her a chance to back out.

She shook her head. "Considering we're both bone dry, I don't think she'll believe us if we go now."

"Okay. Now," Sirius repeated, a promise that Emilia would not be able to break even if she wanted to.

His hand squeezed hers, tight and fumbling as he readjusted his fingers between hers and he was so much warmer than her, as if there was constantly a furnace burning on within him and Emilia drank it up, drank up the feel of his skin against hers, how she felt close to wilting away to ash with how hot his skin was. He gave her hand a tug and Emilia, as always, was quick to follow behind him, their footsteps remarkably loud in the vast, empty corridor that not even the ghosts felt inclined on haunting.

What a sight they both might have made; once it would have bothered her, making Emilia's hackles rise.

Now? Now she didn't care – what did anyone else matter, anyways?

She followed behind Sirius, shadowing him as they embarked on their journey to whatever destination he had in mind; Emilia was careful to not trip over his robe and had half a mind to give it back to him but did not want their hands to break apart for even a second. His long legs eased their wide steps to keep in time with Emilia without her having to exert herself, hands clasped together in the barely existent distance between them.

"You know," Sirius began suddenly, his tone light as it usually was as though to alleviate an unknown tension. "Technically, we're mitching class right now."

Emilia's brows darted up in surprise; her eyes swivelled around the bare boned corridor, like she was double checking to see if he was right and the thought had never connected in her mind before he had mentioned it. Emilia Greene mitching class with Sirius Black; who would have ever thought of such a thing occurring? Certainly not her. "We are?"

"How does it feel to be missing class for the first time in your life on purpose?"

"It's…" She trailed off, face screwed up as if in serious thought. "Not as scary as I thought. I always thought I would be scared and nervous. But I'm not. Is this what it's always like?"

"Well, usually we're running away from Peeves or Filch or someone else after sticking all the bathroom doors closed in the girls' toilets," Sirius said with a wistful, mischievous grin and Emilia blanched at the prospect of him dragging her into such a mess. "So, it's nice to have a change of pace. You're a real troublemaker now."

She might have laughed if she had the energy to do so. "I wouldn't say I'm a troublemaker. Maybe a disturber of the peace."

Sirius looked back at her, an airy chuckle escaping him. His face was no longer a deathly pale colour, a flush in his cheeks. "Emilia Greene, disturber of the peace. Never thought I'd see the day."

Despite it all, Emilia couldn't help the grin that found a home on her lips, perking up at the moniker. She was sure if she went back in time and told her past self about what awaited her in a few months time, she would have fainted. "A perfect epitaph for my gravestone."

"That's morbid thinking."

"If I'm going to be dead for all eternity, I would like for people in the future to think I lived a little before that," Emilia replied with a shrug, trailing after Sirius as they traversed through the castle; the echo of their loud voices should have caused her some cause of concern of being caught, and yet she could not muster up the worry to think about it. The candles flickered Sirius' shadow and she kept chasing after it, trying to capture a piece of him.

"Generally people do live before they die," Sirius remarked with a snort, and Emilia didn't bother smothering the urge to roll her eyes.

"Thanks, I was trying to be a bit poetic."

"Sorry for stepping on your moment there, wouldn't want people to think you were a bit soft in the head."

"Well, if they didn't before, they do now."

It caused some of the humour to disperse between them as the last word left her, and Emilia inwardly winced at bringing up another reminder of what had just happened, the reason they were in this situation to begin with. Sirius cast his attention at her over his shoulder, the grey of his eyes swirling like the murky water of the lake. She couldn't fathom the expression carving into his handsome features, a crack in the mask that was sealed shut as he offered her a small smile, his fingers tightening around her hand, life back into aching bones. "Don't worry, maybe I'll streak through the castle tomorrow and everyone will forget all about that."

"Only maybe?"

Sirius waved a hand in the air vaguely as he continued pulling her along and she, all too helpless to do anything but follow. She fell into every step he made, as though they were in some elaborate dance as they descended down a spiral set of stairs. "I wouldn't want too many to faint from seeing me stripped down to my bollocks. I already have enough people in love with me as it is."

Emilia scoffed, pressing her lips together to prevent a smile that would be far too gratifying for him to see; she almost wanted to tell him that it was an easy thing to fall in love with him, so many people already were, no matter if he had to strip down naked. But her teeth settled into the grooves on her tongue, so many years of holding back what she wanted to say imbedded into the etches on the surface. "Oh, yeah, that's why they'll faint."

His eyes fell to her sharply, observing her for a moment. In this dim, winter light, his eyes seemed to glow, like a wolf's in the middle of a solstice night. "Is there an innuendo coming after that?"

Emilia groaned, her face screwed up in disgust and she half a mind to shove him down the stairs and watch him tumble until he met the bottom but with the way Sirius was holding her hand, she was sure she would be pulled down right alongside him. "Why is that the first place your mind goes to?"

Sirius shrugged, a wicked grin splitting his mouth to reveal his perfect, white teeth. "I'm a teenage boy, that's where my mind is most of the time. When it's not, it's thinking about sticking my wand up my nose."

"You haven't, have you?"

He stared at her confused, as though she was the odd one; after that display earlier today, perhaps it wasn't entirely a lie. "You're saying you haven't?"

"Those thoughts you have that just force their way to the front of your mind? They're called intrusive thoughts, you're supposed to ignore them and not act on them."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Usually saves you the embarrassment."

"I've stopped feeling embarrassment a long time ago."

She scrunched her nose up at that. "That's the problem."

"You don't have a little Sirius voice in your head telling you to do stupid things?" he asked, pausing at the bottom step of the staircase to peer up at her, head cocked to the side as though he couldn't possibly fathom the mere concept of embarrassment and pride.

"No, because I don't need a little Sirius voice in my head when I have one right beside me."

"You should listen to him more often."

Emilia pulled a face at the idea; if she did start listening to Sirius, she was sure she would have done a lot worse than jumping into the lake in the height of winter, mostly because she would have been banished from school grounds before ever having the chance to do so. "That sounds like a nightmare in the making."

Sirius frowned, reminiscent of a pout as he gave her hand a tug to get her to follow along. "I'm going to start whispering to you in your sleep to be nice to me and you'll never know."

This part of the castle had dim lighting, as though not many people came here and as they turned a few corners, she realised it was familiar; the turns in stone, the uneven cobbles beneath her feet. She was sure they had been there before, but she just couldn't place her finger on it. Her neck craned up at the ceiling, feet moving blindly behind Sirius as she tried to claw the memory to the surface of why it seemed so recognisable. "Where are we going?"

It was just as the question was leaving her mouth when they turned another corner that it all came back to her and she knew where they were and where it was that they were heading.

"Kitchens. Won't be bothered here," Sirius explained as they took a few more steps before taking root before a portrait that did a poor excuse of hiding the wafting smell of food that was only slightly subdued do to the block in the archway. They paused before the secret opening, their hands slowly untangled themselves from one another with an air of reluctance around the action before Sirius turned to her, the corner of his lips turned in a sweetly manner. "You want to tickle the pear?"

Emilia raised her hand, pausing half way as her face scrunched up, eyes darting to Sirius as she took on a sour expression that contrasted with his far too mischievous one that was paired with waggling, suggestive eyebrows. "Don't ever say those words ever again."

Sirius shrugged, brushing her words off as Emilia did what she had seen him do before; her fingertips barely graced the painting of the pear when it began to giggle and hop in its spot, twisting away from her before the entire portrait groaned, shuddering as though she had flipped a switch. Stepping back, the painting gave way to dust and an opening revealed itself behind where stone should have been; the aroma of food wafted through instantly, warm and inviting and neither she nor Sirius waiting a second longer for the gap to widen before squeezing their bodies through the arch, hands grasping until they found on another.

It felt natural at this point, like her hand was far too empty without Sirius' own filling it.

The elves greeted them with glee, pausing in their cooking and cleaning of the kitchen to gather around the two students, scurrying about their knees like all too excited pups gladdened to see the hastened return of their masters. It left a dulled, sour taste at the back of Emilia's mouth at the thought, though Sirius didn't seem too put off by the sight of the elves fawning over them. He had said that his family had a house elf, maybe it was just something he was simply used to.

Pushing her way to the front was an elf more distinguishable than the others and Winry all but elbowed a fellow elf in the stomach to take the spot right in front of Emilia and Sirius, hands clasped together and tennis ball like eyes staring up at them that held a gathering wetness as though the return of the two students had made her emotional. "Master Black! Miss Greene!"

Emilia gave a tight smile and raised a limp hand to offer a wave to the elf who looked downright ready to burst into heaving sobs at the greeting. "Hello, Winry."

Sirius, on the other hand, wasted no time on greetings. "Winry, me and Emilia are gonna stake out here for a while. Could you bring us some tea?"

Winry bobbed her head up and down excitedly, cutting a path through the herded elves crowded around the two newcomers, gesturing for them to follow her. "Oh, of course, Master Black!"

"Don't worry about a table or anything. We're just going to camp out in the corner out of your way."

They trailed after the elf to the far side of the room, Emilia occasionally giving a small wave paired with a soft greeting; it was still unsettling the way their large eyes followed her and Sirius but she pushed it to the back of her mind, knowing that the unease was attributed to something else.

Winry led them to a spot in the back of the kitchens that didn't have a swathe of bodies crowding it, Sirius giving a polite thanks to the elf who dashed off to get the requested tea before he stepped forward to partially fill the void between wall and floor.

Sirius gestured with his eyes for Emilia to take the spot beside him and, after pursing her lips in a moment of deliberation, she did so, releasing herself from Sirius' grip to tuck her skirt and robes beneath herself and plank down on the open space beside Sirius, keeping the book firmly in her lap. The ground wasn't too cold, and with Sirius beside her, Emilia was sure she would warm up – yet, the cold wasn't to blame for her frazzled nerves. She brought her legs close to her chest, arms wrapped around them and she remembered she was still wearing Sirius' robe. Its sleeves practically gobbled up her hands which she was glad for since he wouldn't be able to see how she was wringing them together.

"Will we be alright here?" She asked softly, trying to push her trepidation down as her heart continued to flip flop around behind the confines of her chest, weakened ribs that didn't promise to keep it locked away where it should be.

Emilia's body was tense and taut, that voice whispering at the back of her head telling her that she could still run away, not have to reveal all she wanted hidden within as though it was something she ought to be ashamed about – but Emilia knew the truth. She knew she was ashamed of it in a way that words could never explain coherently. And perhaps, some time ago, she would have listened to that quiet voice that was far too loud; but no more, she couldn't let it control her because if she let it mould her to its designs, then there would be more people hurt other than herself now.

"Sure." Was all Sirius responded with and she shot him a questionable glance from the corner of her eyes.

"That didn't sound very convincing."

He gave a shrug, stretching his back and rolling his neck to rid himself of knots buried in his muscles and Emilia pointedly averted her eyes at the action. "Well, Flitwick does have a penchant for rhubarb tart, so he might see us. But we'll be fine until lunchtime. I think."

"Alright." Her tongue was tied and it was a miracle that she could speak at all to begin with.

Winry returned with tea and a plate of treats that neither of them asked for but presented gratitude towards before the elf whisked herself away again with a lopsided smile, pleased she had done well. Emilia's stomach was in a battle with itself, as though someone was digging around in her guts for something that they had lost and tossing out everything else that was unneeded. Her nerves were on edge, the reality of the situation dawning on her; she had to tell him, Emilia knew she did – she had promised him, had she not? And he deserved to know, and she… she deserved to tell him. But she was like a dragon haunting its hoard, guarding her secrets, trying to unlearn so many years of silence and now that she could speak, she wasn't sure if she wanted to, even when she knew she had to.

For his sake. For her sake.

Emilia wrapped her arms tighter around herself, the edge of the book digging uncomfortably beneath her ribs as she tried to keep the unsettled trepidation cutting in her veins trapped but Sirius' eyes were sharp, taking notice of how small she was trying to make herself, to sink into stone and shadow and disappear. "Are you cold?"

Emilia shook her head, diverting her attention acutely on her shoes that gleamed in the kitchen candlelight. Not looking at him might make it easier. "No, I'm fine. It's warm in here."

"I'm surprised you don't have hypothermia," Sirius remarked in an attempt to alleviate the unspoken tension in the air, anticipation over what they were truly here for.

An amused huff left her as she tried to force her body to relax, spine pressed against the stone uncomfortably. The book sat lopsided in the bowl cupped between her legs and her stomach, glowering up at her, no longer an inviting escape but rather an unwelcome reminder. She unwound her arms to clutch at it, fingers darting over the worn covers, the dog ears, the cracks in the spine. "Or frostbite."

"Try not to lose any toes."

"I'd hate to ruin your day by doing so."

Sirius gave a tense bout of laughter and it chimed on in her chest, delightful and light. He always did have such a nice laugh; it was just a shame she could never make him more cheerful with her presence. It was an unshakeable guilt that haunted her; she wanted to make Sirius laugh and smile and never worry, but she always seemed to have the opposite effect no matter her intentions. Her nails dug into the book, part of her hating it for being the cause of all of this, but she knew there was no one else but herself to blame.

"Is it okay?" came Sirius' voice, so soft and delicate it didn't sound like him, though a stolen glance proved it was when his mouth moved around the words. He was staring at her, uncertain, like someone trying to learn the correct steps to a dance. Maybe that's what this was – a dance, trying to find the correct place to start, to end, how to move about the flow that they couldn't avoid. When her stare prompted no response, he gave a pointed look down at what she had in her clutch. "The book, I mean. Is it okay?"

Emilia gulped inaudibly, unable to bear the weight of his eyes on her and she nodded lamely, throat scratching out her voice tightly. "Yeah, McGonagall's spell worked. Not that it was in good condition beforehand, anyways."

There was a pause from his end and she could not look at him.

"Was it worth it? Going in after it?"

Was it? Was it truly? At the time it had been, and now…

Even now it did feel like it was worth it despite it all.

Emilia rushed her fingers over the worn and battered cover, trying to recall what it looked like when it was brand new and not beaten from the years of being handled. It had aged with her, had seen her grow up and had been there with her through everything.

It wasn't just a book to her, it was so much more - it was being six and trying to focus on the words as her mother remained far too vocal with whatever male visitor she had that night, it was being eight and on the playground by herself because no one wanted to play with her, it was being thirteen and holding it to her chest as she sobbed because Marina had called her ugly and no one wanted to be her friend.

It was being a child and trying to remember what her dad looked like, the sound of his voice, the colour of his eyes. The years had washed away any memory of her father, like trying to recall an old dream that refused to be brought back to life; if he never left, would everything be different? Would her mother still have died? Would she still be forced to live with an absent uncle and uncaring aunt? Would she be as awkward and shut off from the rest of the world as she was now?

She wondered if there was a time when she was so small that he held her in his arms and felt happy to be her father. Had she ever felt that kind of love even once in her life? Had anyone ever held her like she was the most precious and delicate thing in the entire world?

Or was there something so fundamentally wrong with her that even her parents couldn't muster up the ability to love her as parents should?

Her hair slipped over her shoulder, casting a shadow across her face at the darkening thoughts, still able to feel the ghosting touches of the lake's slimy presence dripping down her spine. Her mouth felt unbearably dry despite swallowing so much water against her will and a sigh escaped her, aged like wine and just as bitter.

"It was a gift from my dad."

She didn't have to take a peek to know Sirius was staring at her, holding his breath and waiting for her to expand, wondering whether it was alright for him to pry. She had never told anyone, but then again, who had ever asked?

"Your dad?" Sirius reiterated carefully, observing Emilia as though expecting some unspoken sign that would hint at him to not go down that path, but none came.

Emilia nodded, a lungful air arduous and painful as she tried to recall it all; sometimes the memories were confusing and contradicted each other, cursing her younger self for not trying harder in remembering. It was like trying to wipe spilled ink off of old parchment, seeping into cracks that could be fixed. "I was very young when he left. I don't really remember him. I think he had green eyes, but I'm not sure."

Green eyes, blue eyes, brown eyes – it was hard to place them. So many men used to come and go in their house when her mum was still alive, and that part of her worried that she had simply stitched together a face of so many strangers to create another. She should have it written down, reread it over and over again instead of this stupid book. Something that would have been worthwhile, not childish and silly.

Around them, the elves continued their work, completely ignorant of the two. She hoped Hogwarts didn't suddenly develop the ability to grow ears from its walls. Sirius spoke gently, a low and hoarse whisper. "I didn't know that. About your dad, I mean."

Finally, Emilia turned her focus to him in a surge of courage; the candle light flickered across his face, like he was a thousand and one people experiencing a range of emotions that changed too quick before a name could be put to them. How could he have known? She never spoke and no one ever asked.

Except him.

Siriua was the only one who ever asked.

It was like she was handing over a part of herself piece by piece to him, even though he had half of her to begin with.

"You couldn't have."

Sirius turned sombre, grey searching her eyes, darting across her face like he was trying to create a picture of something – perhaps of her, of her being young and small, wearing clothes too big for her body, waiting at the doorstep of a run down house for a stranger that would never return. It wasn't entirely a lie. "How old were you?"

"I don't really know," she said in truth, trying to give a rough guess but nothing seemed the right thing to say. Her nails nearly threatened to tear the book limb from limp, ripping the spine out and discarding the carcass. "I must have been really young. That's why I don't remember him all that much."

There was a crack in Sirius' face and it fell, as though his heart was now resting in the pit of his stomach. If she studied him long enough, she was just about sure it was not pity that graced his features, but something else entirely – sympathy, empathy maybe. Truth be told, she never could tell the difference between them, but the way he was looking at her didn't leave a scummy feeling in its wake. "Oh, Emilia."

"It's alright. It happened when I was quite young. I thought because I don't remember my dad, I shouldn't miss him or care about him," she continued, unable to wrangle her voice into the pit it should have died in. It was like he was pulling each word one after the other out of her mouth, and she was entirely too helpless to fight against it; or maybe she just didn't want to. She thought telling someone would leave her too vulnerable like an exposed nerve, but… but not Sirius. Truth be told, it made her feel, for lack of a better word that probably existed outside of her vocabulary, safe. She bowed her head, a somewhat sheepish expression crawling up inside of her. "And part of me doesn't miss him – not for who he is, but… but what he should have been. It's – it's hard to explain."

Emilia was never a great poet or warrior of words; it was always hard explaining things that went inside of her head, often frustrated when she would be forced to. Why were there so many words for different emotions only for most, if not all, of them to even fit right most of the time?

And even when she did try to speak, it felt like it was never truly sufficient enough. Everyone else was always better at talking about these sorts of things – feelings, thoughts, sensations, emotions. And she was simply left there to flounder, falling behind, as though she was missing something that everyone else understood.

"I get it."

Her neck ached at how quickly she turned to him. "You do?"

Sirius nodded, more solemn than she had ever seen him. Despite his name, seriousness was just one of those things that didn't fit Sirius quite right; like a shirt that was too big, or a pair of trousers that were too small. Yet, he wore it now all the same. "You don't miss the man, but the father you should have had."

She gaped at him, tongue tied because he knew, he understood without her having to break English down into its baser form in frustration in order to get her thoughts across.

"Yes. Yes, I… I thought I was over it. I knew… I know he won't come back. I know he has no interest in being my father. And truth be told, I don't think I want him to. But when I saw the book go in the water…" Her voice teetered off, a croak on the ends of her words as her emotions watered down, gaze dropping to the book whose presence became less antagonistic and she felt guilt at having felt such vitriol towards it before, easing her harsh grip on it and trying to smooth it out. "This is all I have of him. It's the one thing that has stayed with me for years, sometimes it was the only thing that could comfort me. I thought I was over it, over him, but I realised I'm not. I thought I was going to lose the one thing I have of him, the one thing to show that I do, or did, have a father. And I… I couldn't lose it. I was so scared."

Air escaped her as she lapsed into silence, a wheezing noise leaving her like a door that had been closed for too long now screeching at being forced open, unable to stop the oncoming tide. It was as though she had dug up the most hidden parts of her with her bare hands and handing it to him with dirt still underneath her fingernails. And still, he did not turn away.

He never did.

Sirius trusted her and she never even had the decency to extend the same decency towards him. What kind of friend was she?

"Sirius," she croaked out. "I'm sorry."

Sirius looked to her, befuddled at the sudden confession. "For what?"

"For not telling you sooner," she replied, bowing her head in shame and unable to look at Sirius' face for much longer. Regret simmered hot in the bottom of Emilia's chest, and she cursed the stinging in her eyes that warned the impending appearance of fresh tears that she did not think she was physically capable of after all that had happened in the short span of a few hours.

Sirius' features screwed together, pained at the apology. "Emilia, don't be – "

"Don't say I shouldn't apologise," she cut him off, trying not to be as harsh as she was wont to be. Sirius' mouth snapped shut, lips pressed together in a thin line. The tea and plate of treats before them remained untouched, a façade to hide what they were truly doing here. Nothing could wash out the bad taste in her mouth. An anxious hand clenched her heart, squeezing it and nearly make the organ burst behind the confines of her ribs as she took a steadying breath; she had to try, to do better, be better. There couldn't be secrets – not anymore. She didn't want there to be. "I want to because you've been a good friend to me, and I should have trusted you and I know you were hurt over the fact I didn't tell you."

"I wasn't," Sirius protested weakly but it fell flat, and he winced at how unconvincing his attempt was.

"Don't lie," Emilia frowned and Sirius shifted on the floor, looking uncomfortable at being confronted so head on.

"Emilia…" Sirius groaned, an indication that he wished for her to drop the subject but Emilia was not so easily deterred.

"It's true, isn't it?" Emilia pushed, pleading with him because if they were going to be truthful with one another, it had to start now, it had to be equal from both sides and no more hiding. Sirius pressed his lips together in an effort to stop himself from speaking but the longer they stared one another down, the quicker his resolve was being worn down as though he could not bear to keep it a secret from Emilia.

They maintained eye contact for one, two, three heartbeat seconds before Sirius groaned, throwing his head back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, I was hurt. I was angry and hurt that you didn't want to tell me, that maybe I could have done better to make you trust me," Sirius finally relented through the grinding of his teeth with great reluctance and Emilia nodded, finally glad he was no longer lying as means to be honourable and protect her feelings. Sirius' eyes flew open and swivelled over to her in a panicked state, as though he was expecting her to be angry or upset by his confession. "But I understand why you didn't. I was never angry at you, just… at myself for not being a good enough friend. And none of that matters now. Because… because you are going to talk to me now, right?"

Still, she hesitated; not because she didn't want to, though she was sure some part of her was scratching to stop her from speaking, but because she wasn't sure of how to begin, or where to end. It was a moment of sheer vulnerability, everything on display; how inept she was at this, how she couldn't find the right words to say. "It's… it's hard, Sirius. You have to understand."

Sirius' hand was on her wrist, enclosing it like a bracelet and trying to convey what speaking could not. Perhaps it was just as hard for him to listen as it was for her to talk. He looked like a fish out of water, trying to find the right steps, to not fumble and mess up. Where his hand stopped her from physically leaving, his stare did the same. "I know, I do know that. But, Emilia, please, just – just talk to me. You know you can talk to me, right? I'm here for you, I'll listen, just please – please, talk to me."

Emilia did know she could talk to him, and why this realisation only hit her now was beyond her. Whatever childish fear that shackled her was not as strong as Sirius' hold on her wrist through the sleeve of his robes that drowned her, blocking out any trace of Marina's control over her until all that surrounded her was Sirius. His presence, his touch, his voice, even the scent of him; it was a different kind of drowning than what happened in the lake but unlike then, she felt like she could breathe for the first time in so long, untangling all knots in her chest.

A shaky mouthful of air filled her, gaze flickering across him, soaking in the traces of what might have been desperation that haunted the edges of Sirius, waiting impatiently for her to talk. Emilia was fearful that she might vomit it all out incoherently, making the entire effort futile; instead, she wracked her brain, whispering to herself it was only one word after the other, even if she didn't know what might escape her.

Gulping, Emilia opened her mouth.

"It wasn't always this bad," she finally began, barely audible. Like a deer caught in headlights, she couldn't break away from Sirius. "It started in First Year, stupid things like pushing me out of the way, or making fun of my hair. Childish stuff. Then I found toothpaste in my shoes, or my curtains would be stuck with a Sticking Charm. Hiding my stuff, tripping me up, pouring ink into my trunk. I don't know if I was the only one, but it just got worse as we got older."

"And Halloween?" Sirius prompted carefully, skirting around the edges and not trying to broach the subject head on lest it might scare Emilia off and have her retreat back into herself once more. Emilia moved her head up and down in confirmation and Sirius' features warped as if pained. The hand that held hers tightened, though she didn't know if it was for her comfort or for his. "Why did you never tell anyone?"

His voice was strained, as if the truth of it all was far too hurtful for him to bear. Emilia wondered when it stopped hurting for her, when she grew so numb and accustomed to being treated like this, a sardonic and cynical side infesting her as she scoffed at Sirius' innocent question.

"Who could I tell? What good would it do? All that would happen was maybe a detention, writing lines, a slap on the wrist – it would do no good and I would get it ten times worse for being a grass," she grumbled, a bitter taste encroaching on the back of her tongue. Emilia dipped her head, sighing softly and taking an interest in studying their entwined hands, at the scars dotted around the skin of his fingers and palm. "I had no friends, I had no one that I could tell. I think the other girls in the dorm knew something was going on, but no one ever said anything. Lily tried to help a few times but…"

"Wait… Lily? As in Lily Evans?" Sirius repeated with sheer disbelief and Emilia gave a curt nod in confirmation. Sirius sat back against the wall once more, his brows furrowed together in confusion. "And she didn't go to a teacher or anyone?"

Emilia could recall it perfectly; it was Second Year and just after Christmas and she had been stifling her sobs in the bathroom after a particularly cruel bout of words were thrown her way from Marina and how Lily Evans had found her sitting on the toilet, her beautiful face wrought with concern. Lily Evans was always just so nice – she was friendly, kind, beautiful, popular, and empathetic. Emilia had felt so pathetic in front of the redhead with unshed tears and a red face, half gulped breaths catching in her throat.

And part of Emilia had hated Lily back then; hated the fact the other girl witnessed her being so vulnerable in a moment of privacy, at how she tried to comfort Emilia despite the two barely having more than a handful of conversations, how she tried to help, Marina shouldn't say those things to you, you should go to McGonagall, I could go with you if you want.

It was all so terribly embarrassing and mortifying that Emilia had snapped, all but storming out of the bathroom and refusing to talk to the other girl again.

Emilia spent so long wondering what her life at school would be like if she hadn't met kindness with vitriol, if she had accepted a hand extended with a fist full of help. Lily had always been too nice and Emilia had never deserved it for how she acted.

"She tried getting me to tell a teacher once. I told her to drop it and leave me alone. She was only trying to help."

Sirius opened his mouth to inquire further but something stopped him in his tracks, as thought a revelation had dawned on him so suddenly that he was still reeling from the impact of it, his eyes blinking rapidly and he seemed to peer straight through Emilia, his turbulent thoughts turning the gears inside his head quickly and his mouth shut close with an inaudible snap before he pulled himself back from whatever it was he was thinking about and his grey eyes zeroed in on Emilia, a sense of disbelief about him.

"Wait… in the dorm? Emilia, is it… is it someone in Gryffindor?" he asked with an edge about his words, air sucking in through his teeth sharply at the last word, as if he was incapable of even entertaining the thought that anyone in Gryffindor was capable of such horrendous behaviour and had Emilia been in a less dour mood, she might have said something sarcastic in response, but felt unable to.

She pressed her lips together and that seemed to be an answer in and of itself for Sirius, Emilia watching his face darken, like grey clouds casting a dark shadow while thunder rumbled within. The air around Sirius grew cold, deadly almost and his voice had this eerie disconnect, as though it wasn't really him that was actually speaking. "Who?"

Emilia chewed her lip, heart erratic behind the confines of her ribs and she knew he could feel how sweaty her hands had become, shaking from the anxious electricity that buzzed beneath her skin and desired to break out.

Emilia wasn't able to tell what it was exactly that Sirius was feeling – it was cold, icy, separated from the Sirius that she knew; anger? Annoyance? Disbelief? His face gave nothing away and it made Emilia feel as if she wasn't even looking at Sirius, but rather a shell that barely managed to hold back a raging tempest beneath, though she didn't know why. Truth be told, it frightened her somewhat – not that she was afraid of Sirius nor did she believe for a second that it was directed towards her, but the vast change that had come around so quickly it nearly gave her whiplash from witnessing it.

Emilia sucked in a quivering breath, scooting closer towards him and bringing her other hand to cradle the one of his that she held in her own, as if pleading, begging him, but for what Emilia didn't know.

All the while, the mask on his face never faltered, never cracked.

"Sirius, you have to promise not to overreact," Emilia implored, not sure of the reasoning behind it. She wasn't sure why she was so worried about how he might react. She told herself it was because he might get himself into trouble, or maybe… maybe it was because he wouldn't do anything to cause chaos on her behalf. It was a double edged sword and she didn't know which side was causing her to lose her balance.

Sirius appeared incredulous but a softening in his features flickered over. "I'll react exactly as I should when you tell me."

The earnest look in his eyes, practically pleading with Emilia, hurt her; it hurt to think she had been keeping this from him, it hurt to think how he only wanted to listen and she kept it from him, it hurt to think that he might believe she didn't trust him enough to tell him.

So, Emilia ignored her heart that had leapt from the depths of her chest to catch in the back of her mouth, choking her and trying to act as a wedge to prevent her voice from slipping out but she would not let it control her anymore. She didn't have anything to be afraid of anymore, not with Sirius here.

"Marina."

There was a pause that stretched on from an age as the blow of the revelation settled in on Sirius.

"Teagrass?" Sirius finally said, face wild with disbelief at the revelation and Emilia gave a nod of her head, unable to say anything while she observed Sirius grapple with being told this guarded piece of information. Around them, the elves paid them no heed and it felt like they were in their own little world that was quickly crumbling around them.

Sirius looked away from Emilia, turning his eyes straight ahead but he spoke no further, as if he wasn't capable of saying anything. She desperately wanted to push him to say something, anything, but held her tongue as he let it sink in; that sense of relief, of halving the burden that Emilia had expected, had hoped would follow, took its sweet time settling in as unease flowed through her veins the longer Sirius remained silent with her continuing to watch him, inspecting the ever so subtle flickers of emotion that pushed their way onto the surface. She couldn't name them all even if she wanted to, taking her lip between her teeth again in nervousness.

Emilia had expected Sirius to gasp in disbelief, to insist they had to tell a teacher, or even to joke saying they would put tadpoles in Marina's bed, but she had never expected him to launch himself into a hollowed, echoing silence that unsettled her. Sirius always had something to say and that had grown into being one of her favourite traits about him because he didn't care about saying anything embarrassing or wrong, he just said whatever he wanted with such a carefree attitude that at times Emilia even envied him; so, now, with Sirius lapsing into a quiet state, it made her scared.

What could he be thinking? What would he say? Emilia thought briefly that he would call her a liar for trying to slander one of their fellow Gryffindors but that was quickly scrubbed away because he would never do that, he would never doubt her like that because she wouldn't doubt him either.

But the longer he said nothing, the more she worried.

Emilia leaned forward, releasing a hand to place it against his shoulder, trying to bring him back to reality and tear him away from whatever it was that was coursing through his mind.

"Sirius?" she called out, as if he was leagues away instead of right beside her, but Sirius continued to pay no heed, glowering straight ahead and then, as if reaching a conclusion, his teeth bared in a feral way; this time, Emilia didn't have to guess what it was he was feeling as it was plain to see – fury, a relentless, cold fury and Emilia's hand on his shoulder inched away at the sight.

This wasn't the always smiling Sirius that she knew, this was a side to him she had never seen before save for flashes of it that she had been privy to very few times; but this time was different, because this time, it was on her behalf.

"That bitch," Sirius snarled with such ferocity and vitriol it stunned Emilia, the venom in his voice sharpening his words and it left Emilia reeling, blinking at the hatred that stained his words because she had never heard him speak like this ever, didn't think he was even capable of it. Sirius was always so carefree, smiling and happy to join in on whatever fun was ensuing. This was not that Sirius; maybe this was a side of him that always existed and she just never knew it, had only been privy to see one part of him while the other remained in the shadows. "That fucking bitch. I'm going to fucking – "

"What? You'll do what, Sirius? What can you do?" Emilia cut off, and there was a sense of hesitant urgency in her voice, trying to calm him down because she had never heard him speak like that before except that time in Potions, when he had snarled at Snape but even that was like a pup's bark compared to the growl of a wolf. Emilia's hand on Sirius' shoulder retreated and she shook her head. "This is why I didn't want to tell you because – "

"Because what? Because I'll actually do something and put her in place? Get her to stop by any means necessary instead of just letting her do as she pleases?" Sirius barrelled on, his jaw clenched tight and despite the wrath clear on his face, it appeared as if he was genuinely trying to restrain himself, though was losing grip on his temper the longer the revelation of Emilia's tormentor settled in his mind.

"I didn't just let her do it. You think I wanted her to treat me like this? That I asked for it?" Emilia snapped back and briefly, it sobered Sirius, bringing him back from the depths of his anger and into the moment once more, reminding him that this wasn't about revenge or getting back - this was about Emilia unable to take the silence and the suffering any longer.

Sirius' mouth parted, the realisation of what his words implied weighing heavily on him and he appeared regretful for a second. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just – I know you didn't ask her to treat you like this. But… I can't just sit by and do nothing, Emilia. She's harassing you, bullying you. You can't ask me to sit by and do nothing."

Emilia sighed, resigned, having fully expected that this would be one of many potential reactions from Sirius. "I'm not asking you to do nothing."

Frustration wrought Sirius' handsome face, as if he was trying to talk to a brick wall and make it see sense.

"But you are. You're telling me but you're not reaching out for help," Sirius responded, an almost pleading tone hanging around the edge of his words and Emilia cast her gaze to him only to see a dark, desperation within the silver-grey of his irises and it made her throat close up.

His words hit harder than Emilia had expected, swarming her chest and making it hard to breathe; she had always been taught that one cannot fight fire with fire, but how could inaction be any greater than action?

And here was Sirius - foolhardy, stubborn, strong headed Sirius who wanted to take action on her behalf, to ease the suffering she had been enduring all alone these past few years, suffering that was now infecting him as though it caused him agony to know she had gone through all of it by herself.

His brow furrowed, clearly sensing her hesitation, and then Sirius, as if unable to stand it any longer, wrapped an arm around the back of her shoulders, drawing Emilia near and into him, while the other took hold of her legs to slip them atop of his so that she was all but sitting on top of him, her head brought in so that it rested just beneath his chin and she could feel as well as hear the echoing thump of his heart, steady and calming, his arms encasing her like Sirius wanted nothing more to make her whole again.

Her own heart stumbled about in the confines of her ribs, tripping over itself and skipping up into the base of her neck, choking her and her breath halted, caught and rooted in her lungs. Sirius cradled her closely, swaddling her to him and she had never felt so small, so insignificant in the expanse of the universe but none of that mattered in his arms, wrapped up in the essence of Sirius - his touch, his warmth, his smell, his heartbeat, everything.

It was like all those cracks in her soul were fused back together when he tightened his hold on her, fearful that she might be dragged away at any second and the sensation of it all was seared into Emilia's bones, becoming a part of her very marrow that she would never be able to dig out; what a sight they would make to anyone stumbling upon such a scene - the two of them upon the ground and her wrapped up in Sirius' arms, curled up like a small calico cat on his lap, fingers gripping onto his now dried shirt.

Emilia recalled Halloween, when she had flung herself at him, clinging to him so desperately so that she would not drown in the ocean of her own fears but this… this was different.

It felt as if the roles had been reversed and now Sirius was the one who needed her to anchor him, but for whatever reason, she could not discern.

She couldn't remember the last time, if there ever was a last time, when she was held like this; she wanted it to last forever, to remain as they were until the stones of the castle toppled in around them and they were all that was left. Sirius' arms came to stop on top of her shoulder and the middle of her back, fingers digging into her flesh in a way that should have hurt but didn't. Emilia didn't think that Sirius could ever hurt her even if he wanted to.

"I can see it, I can see that you're still trapped in that thinking that you're alone and that you have no one, but you do," Sirius whispered, strained and scratching out of his throat, and Emilia's eyes squeezed further shut at his words. She wanted to deny them, to say they were blatant lies, but she couldn't. It was as if Sirius didn't even have to have a glimpse of her face to see within, to know her darkest, deepest fears that lingered in the corner of her mind at all times, ready to feast on every thought that she might will into existence. "You have me, you have every part of me. I can't sit idly by and let you be alone in this."

She could hear the all encompassing echo of his heart in her ear. She wondered if at any point in time that there was a point their hearts beat in tandem with one another. "I know I'm not alone."

"Do you, though? Do you really?"

With great reluctance, Emilia pulled her face away from where she had buried it into Sirius' chest to place her gaze onto his, trying to convert the sincerity of what she was going to say. "I do."

It was true, Emilia knew that now whereas she didn't before; it had been foolish on her part to think anything otherwise, to not see that Sirius was on her side, he wouldn't turn his back on her or tell her it wasn't that big of a deal. It had been her own ruthless mind trying to isolate her as it was wont to do, but no more. Emilia wasn't alone, not anymore; she had Sirius, that would always be more than enough.

"Then let me do something. Let me help. It's not weak to ask for help." Sirius' voice was far too delicate and he was pleading with her – begging for her permission, for her to tell him to do whatever it was that he wanted to do on her behalf. She was tempted, of course she was tempted; the idea of Marina undergoing even a fraction of the suffering she had made Emilia endure for nigh on seven years made her all too happy to imagine.

But it could not trump the worry she held close to her heart over Sirius; what if Marina told on him? Sirius didn't exactly have the best rap sheet with the Hogwarts staff, so the thought of him actually being expelled because of whatever it was that he had planned out… it did not settle easily in the bottom of her stomach.

"What will you do?"

"No less than what that fucking bitch deserves. If what you said is true, then maybe it's not just you she's been harassing – you could just happen to be her favourite, knowing her."

"Well, you did date her." As soon as Emilia said it, she regretted it, flinching at her own words and held her breath in anticipation, fearful it might come across as rubbing salt in an already gaping wound. But a huff left Sirius, his chest rising and falling, her head resting against him unable to do anything but comply to the action. She never realised hearing someone breath could be so soothing.

"Don't remind me. We didn't even date. Just hooked up a few times," he grumbled as though the memory left a bad taste in his mouth and a part of Emilia felt guilty for bringing it up, unthinking as she did so. For a moment, Sirius stewed in his silence, as though he had a million thoughts all at once that were fighting to be spoken first before the battle finally gave out and a victor emerged. "You don't hate me for that, right?"

Her brows twitched together and she twisted in Sirius' arms, pulling back ever so slightly so she could see his face, perplexed by the question; he appeared sheepish, dodging her gaze and trying to occupy himself with every other part of her face as she tilted her head ever so slightly. "Why would I hate you for that?"

Sirius managed an awkward shrug, his arms still around her and clutching to the robes she wore, both her own and his, like he thought she might try to wriggle out of his grasp at any given second. His grey eyes briefly met hers and it was difficult for her discern the emotion that flickered in the granite like colour of his irises before Sirius took to studying the elves behind Emilia. "I… don't know. I just thought you would hate me or be disgusted."

Emilia blinked at the admission, her bewilderment increasing tenfold; hate him? How could she ever hate him? It was something that Emilia was sure could never be willed into existence even by the greatest witch or wizard as it went against every molecule of her biological makeup. Emilia felt a great many things towards Sirius, things that she wasn't sure had a name yet, but hate could never be one of them.

She moved her head into his view, refusing to allow him to retreat away into himself and keeping him tethered to her, a strange seriousness about her. "I never would hate you or be disgusted by you for something like that, Sirius. Never."

It was true, but Sirius didn't seem inclined to believe her. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, assessing her face, her words settling in and he let a silence stretch out between him. Emilia felt his grip on her strengthen ever so slightly, a small twitch of his hands she could feel even through the layers of clothes she had on her.

Eventually, Sirius let a taut sigh escape him, head falling back against the stone wall pressed to his spine and the frustration leaking outwards of his voice and his features was evident even to Emilia. "If I had known what kind of person she was, I never would have. She's barely even a person, just complete and utter scum."

"You're angry." Emilia didn't know why she stated the obvious, perhaps to affirm her own suspicions. She wanted to get better at this, at understanding Sirius, at learning every single flicker of emotion across his face.

"Of course I'm fucking angry. I'm furious. The fact she thinks she can treat you like that and get away with it? And under my nose?"

"And… at me?" she asked meekly, dropping her eyes to his Gryffindor tie that sat askew around his neck, hastily knotted in a manner that showed lack of care and time in the morning.

"You?" he repeated, brow knitting itself into a knot.

"For not telling you sooner."

She could hear the elves chattering to one another in their sharp voices, the clanging of pots and pans, the hiss of the roaring fire that sizzled meat on top of it, but most of all she heard the lack of Sirius' voice as he ruminated on what she had said. Emilia wouldn't blame him if he was mad, she was mad at herself, at her cowardice and finding a backbone all too soon; if only she realised she had a spine before she decided to go mental and dive into the lake over a book that wasn't really just a book.

They would all look at her like she had gone mad by tomorrow, and Emilia knew they had every right too. She just hoped Sirius would never look at her like that too. At this thought, she peeped up at him through her lashes and he looked like he was in pain from thinking too much about it, too many things wanted to be said clogging at the base of his throat in an effort to be the first thing to be said before -

"I don't know. I don't think it's anger. I wish you did tell me sooner, I wish you trusted me. I was angry at myself, for not making you feel like you could trust me," he admitted, voice threadbare from grappling with his emotions on the matter for far too long. Her heart dropped to her stomach because he was right, she knew he was. Why hadn't she trusted him? Had he not proven himself time and time again? In the end, her attempt at protecting her own heart had caused a wound on another's. Sirius shook his head, the tuft of curls hanging around him moving at the action. "But it's not about me. It's not about how I feel."

"Yes it is. It can be," Emilia urged with an air of desperation clinging to her words and Sirius hesitated, waiting for her to rescind what she had said but no more. "No secrets, right?"

"I just hate that it took for something like this to happen for you to tell me."

"I didn't know how to bring it up again."

"You could have brought it up at any time and I wouldn't have minded," Sirius insisted and it was worse because she knew it was true and perhaps that's what hurt them both the most.

"I know. I know, but…" she trailed off, uncertain and faltering as she tried to understand her own emotions and thought process. At the time, it had made sense to not speak to Sirius about it; now, she could vaguely recall her own distrust of Sirius at the time, but it was hazed by time, like she was looking back into the mind of a different person that she no longer was. She had been cautious, scared even, Marina's hand holding her tongue back from spilling too many truths all at once. Emilia bowed her head, giving a lame rise and drop of her shoulders. "It was just hard."

"Why?" Sirius pushed gently, caught between leaving her alone and his own desires, rock and hard place. Any other time she might have snapped at him to drop it, but that wasn't her anymore. It wasn't them – no more secrets, she had said it herself. That wasn't them, not since the lake. They couldn't be that anymore; they couldn't be people who kept each other at a distance,

"Because I've never told anyone. Sometimes I think I'm overreacting, or that it isn't as serious as I make it out to believe."

Sirius screwed his face up, still trying to fathom the whole thing; maybe he still couldn't believe how another Gryffindor was capable of doing such things, especially to another Gryffindor. "Why did it have to be you?"

Emilia's heart stuttered to a stop as a screeching voice whispered in her ear, nails like claws sinking into the back of her neck and etching the word mudblood into her, showing the truth on the surface as it was in her veins. Her mouth clamped shut, staring at Sirius and she recalled how he had reacted when the two Slytherins in the library had murmured the word between one another, how angry he had been on her behalf. He could have risked expulsion back then and it was all for her, so if he knew now…

No secrets, she had said. But… but she couldn't. She opened her lips but her voice refused to resurface from the bottom of her chest, unable to form around the word that Marina had hissed at her, venom dripping off her tongue and teeth sharpening her voice into knives that pierced through flesh and bone. "I… don't know."

Emilia inwardly winced at her dodging of the question. She needed to tell him, to tell someone, but this was more than bullying, more than petty jabs and childish pranks played on her. Suddenly, the real world was creeping into Hogwarts and poisoning the shadows that refused to be ignored. Mudblood, Dark Lord, blood purists – hadn't Sirius said once that his family, the very family he had cut off like a festering limb rotting away, were such wizards that believed in that nonsense?

Sirius let out an audible breath, clicking his tongue. "It isn't a you thing. She's just a raging bitch who hates everyone that isn't her."

"I guess," she mumbled, occupying her attention to the clumsily buttoned shirt clinging to him beneath his sweater.

"Is that all?" he pressed further and Emilia found it increasingly hard not to look him in the eye because she knew if he caught a glimpse of her face, Sirius would instantly know that, no, that wasn't all. Emilia felt sick, nauseated at realising that she couldn't tell him; if he was angry – no, furious over the revelation that Marina had been tormenting Emilia, how would he react if she told him the whole truth? What would he do in the name of protecting his friend and enacting revenge? Emilia wanted to believe he was rational and she could talk him out of it but…

But.

But there was a part of her that didn't want to. A part of her that wanted Marina to suffer even a fraction of what she had inflicted on Emilia for so many years.

And it was a part of herself that frightened Emilia.

"What do you mean?" she feigned ignorance, hoping her voice didn't shake with the truth resting at the back of her mouth and rattling her to let it out.

"There's nothing else?" he asked once more, unknowingly giving her one final chance to divulge the worst of it, to reveal that there was worse yet awaiting for him to know. Her teeth nearly shattered under the pressure she incited as her jaw clamped itself shut, trying to enact at least an ounce of self control that barely hung on by a thread that threatened to snap at any given second.

Why keep it a secret? Why protect Marina when she deserved so much worse? Why, why, why? She promised – no more secrets. So, why?

Because she was frightened. Because she knew that Marina wasn't the only one. And she hardly expected Sirius to fight a war on her behalf. She couldn't do that to him. She didn't want to.

"No," she finally decided. "Do you want me to tell you everything she's done? Because it's a lot. I don't think I'll be able to recount everything."

"No, I don't want you to remember all of that," Sirius replied in a delicate manner, apologetic for Emilia's assumption that she needed to list all of Marina's terrible deeds. "I don't need to know anyhow for what's coming to her."

"Sirius – " she began lamely but Sirius quickly cut her off with a shake of his head, clutching onto her tightly, trying to stop her from retreating into herself.

"Don't tell me to do nothing, Emilia. I can't just not to anything," he snapped, fire once more roaring to life within him at the mere implication that that was exactly what she expected of him.

"Why do you need to do anything?"

Sirius stared at Emilia like she suddenly sprouted a second head that spoke only in German, pulling a face at her response. In the brief seconds it took to him to speak, so many emotions flitted across the surface that disappeared too quickly for Emilia to grab a hold of an inspect. "Because… because it's you. Isn't that reason enough? Because you're important to me and you deserve some sense of justice."

"That's the Auror in you speaking."

"Maybe it is. Or maybe I just… I just want to help you, to protect you."

Emilia blinked, gazing at Sirius. Protect her? Truth be told, such a concept was strange to her. Who did she ever have other than herself to guard her own being? It was strange, but not unpleasant. In fact, if Emilia were unabashed, she might have said she liked the idea of Sirius protecting her. "Protect me?"

"That's what friends do," he responded effortlessly, rolling off his tongue so quickly that there was no room to refute it because that's what they were: friends. Emilia Greene and Sirius Black, friends. It made this strange feeling spill throughout her, both warm and bitter, like 'friends' was something she should have been content with, if not happy about. Yet… she couldn't. "You protect me from doing stupid things, and I protect you from stupid people."

"I protect you?" Emilia echoed, completely baffled by such a thing ever existing.

"Of course you do."

"Well, I'm obviously not doing a good enough job. I might have to resign."

"Resignation rejected. You're here for life."

She hummed, stifling her smile. "For life doesn't sound too bad."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Is my word not good enough?"

"Fine, we'll make a pact," Sirius stated and Emilia watched as he brought his palm up to his mouth and, to her disgust, he spat into it, holding it in front of her as though he wanted her to actually shake his hand. She tried leaning back but she was still in his lap, the hold less a comforting gesture as she attempted to put as much distance in between herself and his spit covered palm. "Promise?"

"I'm not touching your hand."

"Why? You grossed out?" he teased and brought his hand closer much to Emilia's dismay.

"Ugh, Sirius! Get away from me!" Emilia gagged and scrambled off of Sirius lap, pulling a face as he held his palm out towards her, that all too familiar grin etched onto his mouth. Despite her revulsion, she was glad he was smiling, that she hadn't entirely taken the ability away from him. His laughter rang out in her chest as he eased off on his advance and wiped his hand against his trousers and Emilia shook her head, forcing the corners of her mouth to not turn upwards as she settled into the spot beside him once the danger had passed, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, drawn to him like a moth to a flame before its demise. "That's disgusting."

Sirius grinned at her, a gleam in his eyes that reflected the warm glow of the candlelight in the kitchens, the embodiment of warmth. Sirius was a warm person, and she didn't just mean in body heat. There was something about him that was infectious and made her envious, making Emilia wish she could make him experience this strange tenderness that he inflicted onto her. He always was quick to smile and laugh like he was trying to make up for lost time.

For a brief moment, Emilia could picture Sirius as an old man, wrinkles embedded along his cheeks from grinning so much throughout his life. And Emilia wanted to see it happen, to see him with laugh lines and crinkles.

Sirius bumped his shoulder up against hers, pulling Emilia from her strange thoughts. It was times like this Emilia was relieved he wasn't trained in Legilimency. "Thanks. For telling me, I mean."

Emilia shook her head, her arms looping around her legs that were drawn close to her chest, the chill from the lake long since dissipated from her bones but she still had Sirius' robe clinging to her frame, reminding her of it all. Silver linings and all that. Marina had unwittingly done good out of all her terrorising of Emilia, it only felt bitter because of cause and reaction – Marina had been the cause of Emilia's own reaction rather than it being drawn from within. "I shouldn't have kept it a secret."

"No, I didn't want you to feel like you were forced telling me," Sirius refuted, his arm pressed against hers and Emilia half regretted untangling herself from him so quick. The way his body fell into hers was like it knew no other nature, acting on its own accord and pulled to her like a magnet that could not deny its own nature. He smelled of the lake, of water and air, grass and winter masking the usual musky scent that he emanated. Breathing whenever he was around always felt that bit sweeter. "I prefer you telling me on your own time. But I also wish you didn't feel so alone and that you couldn't tell me."

"It felt silly."

"Why?"

Emilia huffed, heaving a breath as she pondered over the question, feeling like there were too many empty excuses that she had relied on for too long that now felt ridiculous to the point she couldn't understand how she had tricked herself into believing them for so long. "I mean, we're finished school soon, I won't ever see her again after this so I just wondered what was the point? What if they asked me why I didn't say anything sooner? Or if they didn't believe me?"

"I believe you," Sirius said immediately with an odd gravity about his words as one might hear an executioner speak. It might have been Marina's own death sentence. "I'll always believe you."

"You won't do anything to get yourself in trouble, will you?"

"Nah, part of the fun with causing trouble is trying to avoid being caught but this isn't going to be done out of fun," he explained, speaking like a soldier about to walk into battle, solemn and grave. If she were truly a pacifist, she would have told him she didn't needed him to do anything and that they should just go to the teachers but Emilia couldn't deny that primal desire that only Sirius could incite with promises of revenge. She was too much of a coward to take action on her behalf, yet Emilia knew if she gave the word, Sirius would obey and not do anything. But she didn't.

She studied him, the side of his face as he peered down at his lap at his entwined hands, slipping his fingers between the gaps of one another but breaking them apart as though they didn't fit properly, not exactly what he was searching for. In the light of the kitchen, he was bathed in the orange glow reaching out towards both of them and illuminating him in a puddle of bronze light; it was times like these that Emilia became uncomfortably aware of his beauty. It was a thing she knew was true but when she looked at him, really looked at him, she couldn't ignore it.

She was shaken from her unsettling vein of thought when Sirius clawed in a shaky breath and angled his head away from her, staring off to the far side of the kitchen. "You know, I… I feel like a hypocrite."

It took Emilia to process what he had said, words settling into her like a burden on her shoulders before the impact of his confession hit. "What?"

He wrung his hands, nails biting into his knuckles and Emilia could sense his caution, his trepidation about what was currently waging in within him. His pause brought unease, the vagueness of his admission making Emilia fear the worst until Sirius continued on despite his clear discomfort. "I was a stupid kid, I still am but… I wasn't always nice to other people. I know that, I knew it then and I know it now. And now finding out this has happened to you, has been happening to you… I feel like such a hypocrite for being angry."

Her lips parted, sitting upright and spine against the stone as she blinked, a caught sound escaping her throat. A hypocrite? Why would he ever feel like a hypocrite? Unless…

"During Halloween, is that what you referring to?" Emilia whispered, the revelation easing its way through her until it became whole and all Sirius had to do was give her a glimpse from the corner of his eyes for her to understand that that was exactly what it was that he was implying and her face softened ever so slightly. "You asked me if I ever saw you as a bully."

She watched as Sirius bowed his head under the weight of age old regret that continued to haunt him and it made her heart ache, made her want to comfort him as he had done for her. Sirius was many things to her, even in the beginning he had only ever been an irritation that she could not shake no matter how had she had tried; and now? To say Sirius was dear to her would be an underestimate. Maybe they just hadn't invented a word yet to explain what he meant to her, maybe they never would. They just… were. Perhaps there never would be a word that could ever perfectly encapsulate what they were, what he was to her.

And she wanted to explain it, to force it out of her in a manner that could be comprehended but Emilia knew there was nothing in her vocabulary that could ever convey how much Sirius meant to her, could ever carry what feelings she held.

When Sirius spoke, his voice was strangled, choked through the remnants of shame that lingered on within him. "It feels wrong considering how I behaved to people in the past, and now knowing what you've been going through since the beginning…"

The corner of her lips tugged downwards, an aching pain blooming in the confines of her chest, caught behind the prison of her ribs as she drank in the sight of him, the sound of him, just… Him. "I can't say anything for other people, Sirius. I don't know how they feel or what they think but I would never see you as anything like that."

"I just…" Sirius sighed in frustration, bringing his hands up and curling them into fists in an attempt to physically sort out his thoughts to convey them out loud but falling short, an irritated groan bleeding out through him as he slumped up against the wall once more. "I feel like such a fucking hypocrite."

"You're allowed to grow up and realise your mistakes and your wrongs," Emilia stated, hurt weighing down in her heart. She wondered how long this had been on Sirius' mind, how long had he been carrying this around with him. They both had their own secrets, they were allowed them, but it hurt that he had let it fester and rot inside of him for so long. Quietly, she agreed with his statement – Emilia did felt like a hypocrite too, wishing that he hadn't suffered with this inside of him for so long before telling her. What was wrong with both of them? Why was it so difficult to be open with one another?

Was it fear of showing every part of themselves, even the ugly sides, and fearing what might be seen? She frowned, and leaned up against Sirius, reaching out to him the best and only way that she could. She wasn't as good at this as Sirius was, but Emilia wanted to try for him. "People don't have to forgive you, but the fact you even realise whatever you said or did wasn't good, shows you've grown."

"I feel like I've not grown at all, like, I don't know, like I'm stunted."

"I think you're very emotionally mature, when you want to be."

"Me being mature is not something many people would agree with you on."

"Fuck them. What other people think doesn't change my opinion of you at all," she expressed, proclaiming it to not just Sirius but the world as a whole. Somehow, he managed to pull such confessions from her with ease, one word after the other and Emilia unable to stop any of it, not that she wanted to. It left her feeling akin to an exposed nerve, vulnerable and wanting to cover the openness instantly but the fractured warmth of his grey eyes caught on the candlelight put an end to all of that.

Somewhere along the way, Emilia stopped wanting to hide inside of herself. He had helped her to dig herself out with his bare hands, dirt beneath his nails, and she didn't choke on the smothering weight of her own existence anymore. Maybe she was always capable of doing it herself, but that was a possibility that didn't matter anymore. The greatest strength was not doing it all alone, but realising she didn't have to do it alone.

"You're too good, you know that?" Sirius piped up suddenly with no warning.

Emilia faced him, confusion hanging over her like a noose at his statement but Sirius was already staring at her, squinting slightly like there was a bright light behind her that hurt his eyes. She wondered what he saw when he was looking at her, what was going through his mind; was he trying to stitch the image of the person before him with the memory of the girl who used to groan in irritation at his presence? "What?"

"You are. You're just… so good. You always know the right thing to say and you never try to make excuses for me," Sirius explained softly. He spoke as though it was a thought that had occurred to him some time ago and he had finally had the courage to voice it to life now, not at all deterred by the disbelief that was evident on Emilia's face. "You're too good for me. I feel like… like I'm going to corrupt you."

Emilia have a snort that was so unladylike she was sure that somewhere, her aunt shuddered with disgust. "'Corrupt me?' Don't be ridiculous, Sirius. You're not going to 'corrupt' me."

Sirius quirked a brow, an expression of disbelief crossing his face. "Really? Because I didn't have to put in any effort in getting you to mitch with me."

She shrugged, hands wrapped around her knees as a small smile flittered across her face. She had been doing that a lot lately – smiling, laughing, and only for Sirius. The way his eyes were observing her made Emilia feel that perhaps he was trying to understand when she had changed.

She wondered that too, but she only knew the answer to why she had changed. Maybe he knew it too. It went unspoken.

"Yeah, well… I guess you're not the only one capable of change."

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(currently not proofread so if u see any mistakes, no u dont)

Hey guys! Sorry for disappearing for so long! I tried to do a self deletion a few months back but it clearly didn't work and now im moving abroad ! :D

If you read my last A/N, you know i do not have the sexiest mental health, but in the words of queen taylor swift: this is me trying. With fact that i will be moving abroad for work by September, this fic has taken place on the back burner, even though I don't want it to. i wrote this over the last few months while mentally recovering from my attempt so sorry if it's all over the place and kind of shitty lol

But thank you all, truly. For the love, the support, and the waiting. All of it. Truly, it means so much to me. I am just sorry I am a bad writer that cannot return even a fraction of what you guys have given me. I love you all.

Song of choice while writing: the archer by taylor swift

Thanks for reading!