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chapter two.

They were all staring at her as Emilia trudged her way through the castle, a frown carving its way onto her features and making her unapproachable, if the fact she was covered head to toe in orange juice hadn't done that for her first.

Emilia furiously wiped her face with her sleeve, positively beyond the realm of being peeved as she tried to dry her face of the stuff, not even caring she was leaving little droplets in a trail after herself. Her hair was drying to her neck, long, dark fingers strangling her as she ignored the way her skin felt sticky when she tried curling and unfurling her hands into fists, desperately trying to find an outlet for the energy inside of her that was trying to convince her to turn back and give Sirius Black a piece of her mind before she remembered how ridiculous she looked and how going back now to even give him back talk would make her even more of a laughing stock, if that were possible.

Emilia was seething, completely puffing smoke from her nostrils as she made her way to the Gryffindor tower, a twine knotting itself into an inescapable tangle in her chest that she could barely choke her voice through as she snapped the password to the Fat Lady, who pulled an aghast face and made a remark about how rude students were getting these days, not that Emilia cared much for the portrait's words; the common room was void of any other soul for which Emilia counted her blessings for, not caring to control her irritation anymore as she let her hands wring themselves in front of her, imagining Black's neck filling the gap between her palms.

Emilia knew her frustration got the better of her, it always did when things out of her control began to happen and she felt as if this week could not get any worse; she had always tried not to let her emotions get the better of her, she remembered how she used to cry in primary school when the Muggle children would pick on her for her being all skin and bones and knobbly knees, over how she couldn't do her sums or times table, that she was too short and that her clothes never fit her right even despite her aunt making biting remarks that she would grow into it some day.

God, she would cry and cry to the teachers about how the others pulled her hair and tripped her up and time and time again they would give her a Hello Kitty plaster and tell her sticks and stones may break my bones and Emilia wished she had some so she could knock a few of those bastards over the head with a rock.

She stopped being a cry-baby by the time she got to Hogwarts, her past experiences a stinging reminder that sometimes teachers just didn't care and kids were just sometimes mean and that was the way life was and always would be.

What was it her grandmother croaked on her deathbed as she lit up a cigarette with no regard to the fact she was on oxygen? Life's a bitch and then you die, Grandma Ernestine had managed to choke out through a cough that sounded as if she was going to hack up a lung; it wasn't but four months later the old woman kicked the bucket and left Emilia an inheritance that she wouldn't be able to get until she was 18, officially leaving her in the care of her aunt and uncle who didn't know what to do with a child let alone how to raise one.

Once, she had stood up against her bullies (and won, by the way) but ended up getting her ear wrung out by her aunt who screamed about how it was improper for a young girl to be wrestling in the mud and that she was no better than an animal for letting her emotions get the better of her.

Emilia can still hear the echo of the shrew's words, a shiver running down her spine as she tore open the door to the dormitory, instantly shedding herself of her robes and jumper until just her button up was underneath.

It was somewhat dried into the material, orange and sticky and smelling of citrus that it made Emilia turn her nose up at it, unbuttoning it to toss it with her jumper and robes into the hamper where the elves would deal with it later; another shower was needed and Emilia knew that she would just have enough time to rinse the godawful stuff out of her hair and then rush her way to Astronomy and the thought of being late made her stomach turn.

She's never been tardy in her entire tenure at Hogwarts and she wasn't going to start now, though memories of her time growing up in the council estate with her mother still haunted her when she barely managed to go into school for once a week, severely affecting her studies and resulting in her getting a tutor before she was sent to school when in the care of her aunt and uncle.

She still had trouble with her times table.

Emilia didn't even allow herself the luxury of waiting for the water to heat up before she's under the water, wringing her hair out and watching the watered down breakfast drink slip down the drain, jaw clenched as she tried to hurry up. She cleaned as best she could, trying to rid herself of smelling of it and making sure any sticky residue on her skin was gone before she jumped out, running to get dressed again. She didn't even know if she had enough time to brush her hair, squirming into her spare uniform and robes while shoving her feet into her shoes, electing instead to towel dry her hair and braid it as she moved out the door, multi-tasking to save herself time.

Just as she was about to dash out the door, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the other girls' mirror, grimacing at the sight of her.

Her face was flushed from the exertion of trying to work against time, her freckles standing out against her skin with her eyes being smeared with bruises of exhaustion from not being able to sleep properly these past two weeks; her hair was half dry, braided down her neck with straggling wisps breaking free and hanging around her temples and jaw before being trapped behind her ear. Emilia couldn't help but think of how she probably looked ridiculous when she stood up to Sirius Black, looking just about as intimidating as a corgi.

Emilia could still feel the lingering echo of the slap in her palm, glancing at it to see the redness dripping away from where it had connected with the side of the taller boy's face.

Emilia knows she's probably made it worse for herself – slapping the golden boy of Gryffindor? She might as well carry a target on her back, anyone who annoyed Sirius Black was prone to social ostracisation even if he didn't know it because everyone wanted Sirius Black to like them, and she did too, once. She had read multiple Muggle books that filled her mind with nonsensical thinking that she had actually been excited when he had been forced to sit next to her in Fourth Year by their teacher; she thought of it as being her meal ticket to actually getting friends, that he would talk to her and everyone would see him talking her to and then want to be the one to talk to her and...

Then that never happened.

He probably didn't even know her name.

Well, he definitely knew she existed now.

Emilia has never actually hit someone – she's tackled them to the ground and wrangled with their limbs to stop them from hitting her, but she's never actually thrown a punch. Defence was one thing, but she hadn't even had a second thought before her hand had breezed through the air to crack against his cheek and the thought made her stomach churn in a way that made her feel as if her breakfast would be making a delightful reappearance.

A hissing voice in the back of her mind whispered how maybe she's turning out to be just like her mother and Emilia didn't even entertain the thought before she slammed the monster into the dirt, grinding it six feet under in the back of her mind with her heel where it would gather dust, or become bloated and infected and consume her whole.

Whatever, that was a problem for future her.

Present her had much bigger matters – like getting to class on time.

Emilia grabbed her things, shoving them into the shoulder bag she liked to carry with her instead of lugging everything around in her arms and flitted through the door and out through the portrait; she didn't think she overreacted that much by slapping Sirius, it probably wasn't the first time he felt the scorn of a woman from the stories she's overhead in the girls' bathrooms and the dorms, and he's been slapped for less than publicly humiliating someone and then not even bothering to offer her a proper apology.

Oh, the nerve of him!

A rekindled fire burned in Emilia as she tore her way through the castle to the Astronomy tower, the smouldering ember bursting into consuming flames as she recalled how he attempted to laugh it off and then shove the blame onto his friend's shoulders all the while everyone laughed at her. Emilia was pretty good with dealing with petty things such as the bullying she endured from Marina Teagrass but it was a whole other level when Sirius Black managed to get the whole school to look, point and laugh at you for everyone to see.

Now she wished she had gone back to yell at him, however much she knew that she didn't do well with public confrontation and would probably just end up letting him dump the apple juice on top of her to make up for trying to get him to apologise and appease the masses.

The whispering and pointed looks didn't take long to start as the first classes of the day began to draw nearer by the minute, students gathering outside their classes tugging at their friend's sleeve to grab their attention and murmur how that's the girl that slapped Sirius Black this morning! She got more than a few glares, a few giggles and more than enough confused stares because who was she to do that; God, it wasn't bad enough that the students worshipped the ground he walked on, the teachers did too and they hadn't even piped up after she got drenched.

She didn't know if it was because of him or because of her own actions that she was now going to be branded as even more of a loner than before; any more and she would have to be ousted from the castle itself.

What did it matter to her? Not like she had any friends to feel embarrassed over what she had done, not like any of them even knew her name before then. By the weekend, there would be a new rotation in gossip and she would be forgotten, nothing more than a passing blur in the minds in these young peoples' minds who wouldn't even be able to recall her face years down the line when another classmate asks if they remember the incident that occurred at breakfast during the second week of school in 1977.

Maybe she should feel grateful for it – that meant she would be left alone and being left alone meant she could do whatever she wanted and not have to overthink about it. It also meant that Sirius Black wouldn't even remember her existence at all and that he would go on ignoring her just as he always had, though for him to have ignored her he would have had to have known who Emilia was to begin with. Silver linings and all that.

Emilia's pace slowed down once more when she found herself in the last stretch of the Astronomy tower, trying to hide the fact she was incredibly out of breath as she took her time getting to the steps to ease the burning in her thighs; her class was drifting in around her, some casting her glimpses to see if it's really her, as if she had some nerve attending her own class after the show she put on that morning.

For the sake of her own sanity, she kept her head down, breathing returning to its normal rate as she made her way to class, ignoring the way the voices around her grew louder and louder to the point that it seemed like they weren't even trying to appear as if they weren't talking about her.

Emilia reached the stairs, climbing up the steps as the crowd moved around her, someone jostling her shoulder and catching her foot to slip on the lip of the step ahead of her, hand going out to catch onto the railing as the person rushed on ahead to get to class, ignoring the way Emilia glared at his back. A strand caught itself in her eyelashes and she blew it out of the way, tickling against her forehead before sweeping it behind her ear, ready to continue on her journey when her body stilled.

The sight of him is enough to send ice freezing through her veins, cracking and catching in her throat and burning her when she breathed; he was standing on the turn of the stairs, leaning against the railing, and not yet catching sight of Emilia who stands a few metres away from him.

Sirius Black looked about as bored as anyone who attends History of Magic, a finger tapping an unknown rhythm on the railings, occasionally raising the hand to wave at those who tossed him a hello and a good morning here and there. Desperately, Emilia tries to scrape her mind for a memory of whether he was in her class – she couldn't recall if he was there, it would be hard to remember considering how much he liked to talk during class and how loud he was at talking as well. Even if he was somehow mitching, his name still would have been called out for attendance and nothing could be scrounged up that gave evidence that he should be here at this time.

If he's not in her class, then why was he here?

Emilia's rapid thinking unfroze her body as she dropped her head once more, moving to the far side of the steps conspicuously, wound up and taut as she attempts to sneak past him. She didn't like to think herself so self important to believe that he was here for her – but what if he was? He hadn't been lurking about any other morning she had Astronomy on Tuesday morning, so what was behind his decision to suddenly spring up as if he was rooted here this entire time and she was an idiot for not noticing?

A shake of her head sent her thoughts scattering, deciding that all she needed to do was walk past him and find out whether or not her overthinking was self inflating or not; she creeps up the steps quickly, head down and pretending to be engrossed in her rather empty notes that had not yet been filled since last week was introductory week, trying to ignore that he existed as she successfully made the turn past him and climbed up the steps.

Relief flooded through Emilia as she felt ridiculous for thinking that he was here for her, out of all the possibilities –

"Hey!"

Shit.

Emilia paused for a second, foot lifted in the air to go on the next step as the voice echoed, causing a few people to do the same and look back.

Another shake, Emilia took another step forward when –

"Hey, wait! You!"

This time Emilia's rational thinking was unable to come up with a suitable excuse or reason that Sirius Black is definitely not calling out to her, and she gave out a defeated sigh, shoulders slumped and cursing underneath her breath.

So much for trying to remain below the radar.

Steeling herself and straightening her spine, Emilia whips around, careful not to slip on the stairs and break her neck as she meets face to face with Sirius Black, ignoring the way some students stopped to stare at the interaction before them, trading words behind cupped hands as Sirius grinned up at her, looking every bit as innocent as Emilia knew he wasn't.

She wasn't quick to let herself be reeled in by his boyish smile that showed off his straight white teeth and did not return any smile of her own, face remaining blank and neutral as she lowered herself down a few steps but still wanted to retain the advantage of height over him so as to not be the one to crane her neck up at him.

"I thought you didn't you hear me the first time," he says through a gentle laugh, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck and putting on a façade of awkwardness, the look appearing far too unnatural on him. The last few dregs of Emilia's astronomy class moved past them, barely sparing them a glance that would surely be used in their testimony of how Sirius Black was outside of the Astronomy tower and he was talking with the weirdo who slapped him.

It's strange.

She's never had him even look her in the eyes before and she had never seen him try to appear self-conscious and tongue-tied, that same, faux sheepish look warped into his handsome features as he cast her a glance through his eyelashes, only to see her unamused face that was returning the stare back at him.

Truthfully, she already knew why he's here, knew that he has come to offer her a half baked apology to save face lest he be known as the guy who dumped an entire pitcher of orange juice over a poor girl, though that scenario was probably not helped by the fact he was met with a slap in the face in retaliation. But still, it's strange and the entire situation was almost... entertaining for Emilia.

Her shoulders rose and dropped in resignation, giving him a hum. "I did hear you the first time."

That seemed to be the answer he wasn't expecting and something in Emilia felt a rushing glee as she watched Sirius falter for a moment, trying to collect his words to string them into sentences to respond to her but that lapse was only for a few, shining seconds before he let out another soft, spiel of laughter. "You did? Guess I made a fool of myself shouting like that. Wouldn't be the first time this morning."

She wasn't sure how to answer him, electing instead to stand on the step and stare at him, waiting for the situation to unfold for her to see how it goes instead of playing a hand in it. When she didn't offer her voice, Sirius purses his lips, hands in the pockets of his robes as he scuffs the floor with his shoes and the sight is beyond comical – Sirius Black being the embodiment of humility?

Oh, please, she would sooner see her aunt fit into anything below a size 10 in jeans.

His hand raked itself through the dark locks that appeared like ink in the watery, cold light that leaked in through the long, glass windows, the barely there glow of the lights and candles casting just enough light to make the entire castle viewable and Emilia can see the way he chewed on his words, tasting them to see how they fared before he met her eyes again and beyond those storming irises she can see his mind working as he was trying to get a better understanding of her but was falling up short.

He was taking his time as if he has all the time in the world, time Emilia didn't have and she feels herself becoming crabby as the silence stretches further on, as if he's just unable to wring the words he wants to say out.

As she's about to snap at him to spit the words out, he jumped ahead of her and opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, for what happened at breakfast. I really didn't mean to do that, you know. Me and James were just messing about and you got caught up in it, unfortunately. Completely unintentional. I hope you won't, like, hold a vendetta against me just for getting a bit of orange juice on you."

Once he's finished, Emilia let his words sink in, drinking in his somewhat, barely decent apology that seemed rushed and even his tone of voice came off as if whinging, as if he didn't just publicly embarrass her in front of everyone and, you know, he really was a good guy and it wasn't his fault she just happened to be within the splash zone (even though she tried moving away from him more than once).

Emilia's voice was a corpse in the bottom of her throat, eyes picking apart his face and features and noting how he almost seemed relieved if not proud of himself for being able to regurgitate the almost same words he had already said to her right after the incident occurred.

Her head cocked to the side, curious as she took a moment to let herself think, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her eyes narrowed down at Sirius, at his hands in his pockets, the impatient energy that was rolling off at him as if he had better things to be doing than standing her asking for forgiveness – and maybe he did have better things to be doing, he didn't have to come apologise to her, he didn't have to drag his ass all the way to the Astronomy tower and give her a half baked apology and he didn't even have to do it in person.

But he did.

And Emilia was bitter for the fact he didn't even seem sincere despite appearing to make an effort.

He met her eyes and didn't shift underneath her stare, awaiting for the forgiveness he needed to brush past all this and move on and then never think about her again. Emilia could give it, she knew that, but why should she? Why should she forgive him when he didn't even properly apologise to her? She was being picky, an almost imitation of her aunt who would have been begrudgingly proud of her for not bending to his will and accepting his apology just for the sake of it. Emilia was tired of just letting herself be trampled on, just because she had no friends didn't mean she didn't have a spine that allowed her to stand up for herself.

Emilia takes a step down, and then another and then another until there's only an arm's length between them, two steps being all that was giving her the barely there advantage as she met him eye to eye, watching as he stood expectantly for her to say something, anything that would allow him to finally leave and no longer bother with this niggling problem nipping at a conscience Emilia wondered existed.

Her apathy for him was shifting, moulding itself into something that resembled a burning ember of antipathy as she narrowed her gaze at him. "Sirius."

Said boy straightened up, smile once more returning to his lips. "Yeah?"

"What's my name?"

Emilia watched as his face falls and then warped into confusion. That question seemed to be the last thing he was expecting. "What?"

"My name," Emilia repeated, enunciating each syllable so that he could clearly understand what she was saying as she leaned ever so slightly to close the divide that was between them.

For a moment, his face shifted, as if he was in pain at the act of thinking and she could see the gears turning, the way his face scrunched ever so slightly that she might have missed it had she not been looking for it.

There's a heartbeat of silence as they stare at one another, Emilia expectant and something like nervousness encroaching on Sirius' features before something like relief flooded through his body, a smugness undeniable on his features.

"Of course I know your name. It's Emily Greene."

Ah.

And there it is.

Emilia straightened her back and trains her face to be void, jaw tight and teeth threatening to crack under pressure as he stands as if proud that he had gotten right, as if he could never be wrong and that she was stupid for even asking such a question.

She had been right, of course she had been right – why would a guy like him, popular and so well loved, even bother to remember her name? He didn't even remember her from Fourth Year despite sitting next to her for the entire year, why would he? She probably said hello to him all but one time but the sound of her voice had been drowned out when he got a paper airplane thrown at him by one of his friends that had gotten caught in his hair; people like Emilia didn't exist to people like Sirius Black and his friends, they were beyond popular and didn't have the need to remember insignificant things like her name but...

But it was her name. She always tried to remember the names of people, even if she was unsociable she knew that the least she could was call someone by their right name if she wanted to tell them to piss off.

For some reason, it hurt knowing that he didn't even bother to try and get her name right while apologising to her and it just proved even further that he didn't mean it, he didn't care about apologising to her or that he hurt her feelings and made her feel ready to crawl into the deepest hole Britain had to offer and die in it.

A shuddering breath ripped through Emilia, sharp as ice and just as cutting as she breaks away from his gaze; she can't even bear to look at him and pretend that she wasn't bothered by him, by the fact he didn't even care about what he did to her, accident or not. Maybe that's the type of person he was – the one who didn't care about others who existed outside of him. Maybe Emilia cared too much, maybe she was was being overtly sensitive and just needed to bite out her forgiveness, turn heel and make it in time for class and then never have to deal with it again.

But she couldn't.

Her pride could not take that beating and she would not let herself be reduced to being that kind of person.

Keeping her eyes off to the distance, watching the other straggling students rush in and around the staircase to make it to their other classes Emilia gives a cough, voice lurching from the depths it had been banished to. "Did you know we sat next to each other for Defence Against the Dark Arts for all of Fourth Year?"

Her question threw him off kilter and she can see from the corner of her eye as the question momentarily stunned him, floundering for words before recovering as she snapped her gaze back onto him, cold and empty. He had the decency to appear awkward at this revelation and Sirius knew he can't hide his shock at Emilia's words as he shifted back on forth on his feet, voice trying to maintain some air of stability and calmness so as to not reflect how uncomfortable he was. "We did?"

Emilia gave him a sharp curt nod, glad for the distance between them because she felt as if she couldn't breathe. "I doubt you would remember it. You never used to look at me, let alone talk to me."

A flush crawled itself up from his neck and he glanced down to the ground, a shaky laugh leaving him as a hand once more raked through the soft curls of his hair, the once perfect style becoming bedraggled and catching on his eyelashes, and curling in around his ears, kissing his temple. "Well, I mean, I was an idiot kid. I would be crazy not to look at you!"

The last words out of his mouth left a sour taste in her mouth, mimicking the turn in her disposition as her lips pressed into a straight line and he risked a glance up at her only to see her far from flattered self glowering at him, a wince flashing over his face like the cracking of lightening and that soft, pink haze in his pale cheeks deepened somewhat in embarrassment at his failed attempt to try and sweeten her up in order for her to be a tad more merciful towards him.

Emilia took a step down, losing her equal height status with him and filling the void that existed between them, her movement catching his eye and he looked slightly down her, not daring to look away as they held eye contact; Emilia studied him, the way blood rushed over his cheeks like spilled ink staining parchment, at his soft curls falling in his eyes and how dark his eyes were. She had heard the rest of his family had always been in Slytherin and she thinks of how it would have suited him, green and silver instead of red and gold, maybe he would have called her mudblood like the rest of the snakes for whom she held no love, yet also no hatred.

She didn't care enough to hate them, to hate anyone really. But Sirius Black was wiggling himself into being the first occupant of her hatred.

Emilia knows she's late for class, knows that she'll only just make roll call if she's lucky but suddenly her worry over being tardy has dissipated as she stares as Sirius, cold grey clashing with a deep, earthy dark that is washing over her face for any slip in her mask, for any sign that she'll finally let him go.

A breath fills her lungs and Emilia gave a nod.

"I don't accept your apology."

Her words left him blinking, trying to comprehend what has just happened but Emilia didn't care to stand around and watch his brain try and catch up, turning on her heel and marching herself up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, feeling as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

Yet, before she could get far, something clasped around her wrist and nearly sent her tumbling down the steps as she turned, wide eyed as Sirius refused to let go. "You don't accept my apology?"

Her eyebrows furrow together as she fails to understand why it's such a hard concept for him to comprehend. "Yes, I don't."

Her confirmation made him look even more puzzled and an annoyed sigh built up in Emilia, turning to make her way up the stairs while trying to pull herself free but his grip was like iron, holding her in place as she turned back to meet his confused face.

"But," he begins, at a loss for words and searching for any that would do. "But why?"

Her head tilted to the side, finding how utterly bewildered Sirius was being somewhat humorous. She wrenched herself free from him, fixing the strap of her bag on her shoulder as her arms crossed over her chest, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"Because you – " she began, quirking an eyebrow and he looked to her, a crease forming between his brow as he mentally tries to hop hurdles to get to the finish line and catch up with what was happening, to understand he couldn't just smile his way out of his troubles. "Your words, they mean nothing to me. Nothing."

For the first time since in Hogwarts history, Sirius Black was left speechless, mouth falling open and trying to form words, to formulate any kind of response to Emilia but is unable too, a mental breakdown on the horizon as he shut down completely as his voice cracked in trying to choke out a response.

But nothing comes forth and the sound of sweet silence filled Emilia's ears.

Content, she turns around without a second thought, leaving Sirius Black behind her on the steps to the Astronomy tower, each step spitting out an echo that felt too loud for the smothering nothingness that surrounded them, though Emilia didn't feel smothered – she felt as if she could finally and freely breathe. As she was about to move any further, a thought came to her mind and she spun around to face Sirius who had yet to move from where she had left him standing.

Maybe he'll become part of the castle's decorations with how still he was being and Filch might mistake him for a statue.

"By the way," Emilia called out and his head snapped up to meet her gaze and she had a more playful look on her face that seemed as empty as her smile. "My name isn't Emily, it's Emilia."

The brief look of realisation followed promptly by horrified embarrassment that Emilia managed to catch on his face somewhat made the whole thing almost bearable, that to see that look on his face come as result of having an entire litre of orange juice dumped on top her made it just that bit more acceptable.

Without another word, Emilia spun on her heel and rushed to make it to class; hopefully, she would manage to sneak in just before roll call, being marked down as being late would probably be marked as the worst thing that happened to her that entire morning.

She never wonders how it was that he knew her timetable schedule.

song of choice while writing: would you go with me by josh turner

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