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chapter three.
Emilia realises she had a shadow by double Potions on Wednesday morning, a shadow that seems to hover and watch her incessantly as she tried to keep up with her note taking due to Slughorn going off in long, rambling tangents that often made no sense to the topic at hand. The dungeons were cold and the watery pale light of the sun was trying so desperately to reach in through the small windows, casting golden fingers that stretch out across the grey stone.
Slughorn's voice echoed slightly across the room as he made his turn about between the desks, hand in the belly pocket of his suit while scratching at his chin trying to stay on topic as Emilia's pen tapped against the parchment of her notes, ignoring the way her eyes began to feel heavier as time dragged on; if it weren't for the cold, she might have fallen asleep entirely.
Her hand cradled her jaw, eyes glued to the rambling professor as she tried to keep her attention on him instead of letting it wander; beside her, Severus Snape scribbled with his arm hiding his writing and across from her was another Slytherin and Gryffindor who seemed more interested in biting their nails or staring blankly out the window to see the morning fog lift and glow. Slughorn had insisted on each table containing two pairs from each House that were in his class and it made no difference to Emilia – none of them talked to each other unlike some other tables that didn't seem to care about how much of a ruckus they were making. The other Gryffindor, Thomas Kinley, was dazed with his green eyes unfocused as he stared off into the distance and the other Slytherin, Amanda Glass, was a pretty girl with nut brown skin who was chewing on her nails as she tried to survive the double class that was Potions on a Wednesday morning.
Emilia only just managed to stem the sigh building and bubbling in the back of her throat as Slughorn lost his train of thought again and decided to pick up right from the beginning again and Emilia wondered if this class were to ever end; her pen resumed its tapping and from the corner of her eyes, she could see Severus Snape's pen halt in his scribbling as he cast her a glare, a sign that her fidgeting was becoming an annoyance.
For the sake of peace at their table, Emilia stopped and turned elsewhere to stem the boredom settling into her.
Not for the first time Emilia wished that Hogwarts invested in some interior heating for the castle as she had her robes wrapped around her and the skirt she wore did little to quell the wave of goosebumps that rushed over the surface of her skin; the cold sunlight barely succeeded in warming the place up and the entire classroom felt positively medieval.
Probably because it is, she thought, eyes taking to wandering about as Slughorn's voice was completely tuned out from her ears, a background noise like the stereo her aunt would blast at full volume whenever she came home drunk at 3 am.
Her eyes moved from the shelves stocked with ingredients, parts and pieces of animals and insects with herbs and flora that seemed far too otherworldly than what Emilia was used to; sometimes it felt as if they were watching her. Even now it was if eyes were stuck to her, watching her every move and making her skin prickle from the feel of it. It made her suppress a shudder at the thought of someone or something watching her, studying her and analysing everything she did, lips pursed and moving her gaze around and –
Sirius Black was looking right at her.
For a moment Emilia froze, the awkwardness of catching someone staring not settling in yet as they maintained eye contact, his grey on hers and staying, not flittering away at the realisation of being caught but remaining rooted where they were, trained fully on her. She blinked, thinking it was a mistake and thought perhaps that he was looking elsewhere, a fraction to her right, through her to the wall or just completely zoned out and not realising Emilia had caught him but his gaze did not waver and Emilia did not break away.
His face was tight, pulled together as if he was thinking while staring at her and Emilia couldn't help but shift in her chair at how uncomfortable it made her, at having someone unabashedly stare at her in the open with no regard to the fact she knew he was doing so. He shared a table with Marlene McKinnon whose mouth was moving but words did not carry, a whisper that escaped the echo of the stone classroom as Slughorn's voice rose above all else.
A frown was etching itself onto Emilia's lips as she maintained the gaze, trying to ignore the unease it left her as he refused to be the first to break and Emilia couldn't stand it and she once more dropped her eyes to her parchment where there was much that was left blank as the lesson dragged on.
Yet, Sirius Black had still yet to turn his attention away from her.
The entire situation didn't make Emilia feel better; she had hoped that once she had essentially told him to go fuck himself that he would have done just that and leave her alone, that she would be left to her own devices and not have to deal with this unwanted attention. Emilia wondered if she had been misguided in her belief that if she had shown Sirius Black no hint of friendliness by refusing his apology he might had thought to avoid her sour disposition, but now she was second guessing her decision. She held neither hate nor love for him, despite how much she might have revered him as the ultimate 'it' boy of Gryffindor in prior years.
Needless worry filled her mind; what if she did make a mistake, acting like a bitch to him and telling him to shove off? Maybe if they were younger he might have bullied her and pushed her into the mud as had happened in primary school before she attended Hogwarts. Her aunt, in the very few times in which she acted on her almost nonexistent maternal instincts, had told her boys only acted like that because they liked you, but that didn't make Emilia feel any better; in fact, the thought of it all made her stomach turn over and threaten to spill out her breakfast. But they weren't kids, not anymore and he hadn't thrown her into the lake or pulled her hair, even despite the fact that he had dumped an entire litre of orange juice on her.
Emilia took a breath, the cold sharpness of the dungeon filling her lungs and washing her free from the anxiety that was choking her veins and leaving her feel as if her heart was too big for her ribcage. Overthinking always got the better of her but she knew better now than to let it have any power over her – there was nothing wrong, nothing going on and Sirius Black wasn't planning on throwing her from the top of the Astronomy tower any time soon.
At least, that's what she hoped.
Emilia kept her eyes downwards onto her notes, trying once more to tune back in to the right frequency of Slughorn's lecture and pretending that she couldn't feel his piercing stare that was digging into her skin, into the sides of her cheek as she took to writing down anything Slughorn was saying so as to make it appear that she was entirely oblivious to the grey pair of eyes on her. She couldn't even pretend that it wasn't her that he was looking at as not even Emilia could make herself believe that it was Severus Snape that Sirius Black suddenly took to admiring.
Dread filled her, sludge in her lungs as she remembered she had Transfiguration with Sirius later that evening after lunch, but wasn't he with his friends in that class too? Maybe he would find new joy in ignoring her existence as he had done for seven years now, because Emilia seriously could not take this anymore.
Even earlier that morning she had a run in with him and barely managed to rush past him; breakfast had been a dreaded affair and gossip in Hogwarts spread as fast as any disease and stuck around just as long as the infection it would leave behind, and Emilia had lain in her bed with the curtains around her posts drawn, staring up at the darkened canopy wondering if it was entirely worth it to go down and get food. She dreaded the looks, the laughter and the snickering that would follow her but what did it matter to her? Whenever had she let herself be swayed by the masses with regards to problems like these? It wasn't as if any of them had the balls to actually come up to her and laugh at her in her face, and Emilia could withstand the remarks they said behind her back so why did it bother her so much?
No, she wouldn't stand for it, for this – she was bloody well allowed to eat her toast and have her tea and she would be damned if she let Sirius Black ruin that.
Yet that bravado seemed to slip away on her as she drew nearer to the Great Hall, shoes dragging and scuffing the ground as she held her edition of The Hobbit close to her, fingers curling into her fists as her stomach knotted itself into an incomprehensible ball of nerves. She could do this, she would do this and yet it felt like it would be impossible to swallow a bite of porridge past the lump that was squeezing her throat.
Spine straight, shoulders back and biting down on her tongue she walked into the Great Hall as if she weren't trying to pick up any voices that were pointing her out.
At first, none had noticed her, as if it were a normal morning, but as she made her way down the Gryffindor table she could hear the ripple of whispers, of elbows into the sides of their friends and words exchanged behind cupped hands. As she sat down, further away from the closely knitted group on the table, she let a breath leave her, still for a moment as she set down her book and could feels eyes watching her, waiting for something but when nothing happened they went back to their normal, idle conversation, interest in her dying as quickly as it sprouted and Emilia almost sagged in relief; it had all been for nothing, the worry, the fear of people laughing at her but no one cared enough about her to even engage in that kind of behaviour.
Emilia was a nobody to them and she was never more grateful for it than at that moment.
She ate her porridge, had her tea, read a few pages of her book (she was getting close to where the dog ears in the corner of the pages were non-existent again and she would have to flip back to the beginning soon) and life felt... normal. As it should be. Maybe what happened the day before was just a bad dream, a trick of the mind and she had imagined it all. When she had enough and got up, no one's gaze moved to her, no one was talking about her or acknowledging her existence and that twine that was tangled up in her chest was coming undone, loose ends falling away and allowing her to breathe through as she made her way down the space between the tables, book in hand and feeling much like herself again.
And then Sirius Black and his gang walked in, as loud as they were the day before and not even caring for how early it was to be yelling at one another.
Emilia's steps had paused ever so briefly, eyes wide and on Sirius and remembering that the day before wasn't a dream but reality and she really had spoken to him as she had the day before and oh God, the embarrassment.
No – no, there was nothing she should be embarrassed about. Why should she? It meant nothing to her now, just like him and it was in the past and she didn't care. He certainly hadn't acknowledged her being rooted to the ground as he slung an arm around the shorter Peter, mouth moving fast and face taking on a carefree, playful look as Peter's face turned to the ground, round face red and not even trying to get away from his friend's chokehold. Emilia didn't exist to these people and that was perfectly fine – it was just as how it should be.
Having given a quick shake of her head, Emilia resumed her walking, moving forward step by step and keeping her eyes straight ahead and not even casting a side glance as she moved past the gaggle of boys. Her refusal to spare them a look meant she missed catching sight of the way their eyes strayed to her and Sirius Black turned back to watch her walk away, eyes glued to her back and for a moment Emilia thought someone called her name but that was ridiculous; it wasn't possible – no one even knew her name.
She wished that her hopes for him to go back to not knowing she existed seemed to break apart, slipping through her fingers like sand. Her entire body felt on edge, prickling as it became hard to listen to Slughorn again, risking a quick glance through her eyelashes to see Sirius still hadn't torn his eyes away from her but now his face was pinched, a narrowed gaze trained on Emilia as if he was trying to read into her mind, or maybe he was thinking too hard and the act itself was painful on him. Emilia couldn't tell if he was trying to make her uncomfortable by glaring at her but now that unease was rising again; she wodnered if was he worried about being seen as a right arse for doing what he did that previous morning? There wasn't any reason for him to be nervous about that, after all he was the one that did apologise and she was the one who told him to stick it where the sun doesn't shine so, if anything, Emilia would be seen as the bad guy in the situation because of how she acted.
God forbid someone hurts Sirius' poor feelings.
Beside her, Severus' scratching on his parchment was wringing her ear and, despite having never exchanged a single word with the other boy, she found herself liking him a lot more than she ever did Sirius Black at that moment.
Could she confront him? It would be mortifying if she did and he decided to deny the staring, or make her think she was just imagining it. Whatever problem he had with her, he was projecting it outwards and making it her problem too and that was the last thing Emilia needed; getting tangled in any way with Sirius Black was just a recipe for disaster, she had heard too many girls in her dorm curse the man over his good looks and his charm and also gush over the very same qualities they hated him for.
No, it was best to do what she always did whenever a problem cropped up for her – ignore it, grind its existence into the dirt with her heel and pretend it never even happened at all. That's how she dealt with any inconvenience in her life and it had worked well thus far, so no point in changing what wasn't even broken.
For the remainder of their double period of Potions, Emilia kept her eyes trained on her notes, tuned into Slughorn's mind-numbing and tedious lecture, denying herself the urge to peek and risk catching Sirius' continued stare that was trained on her; ignoring him outwardly wasn't entirely that hard for Emilia but it made her unnerved, a crawling feeling on her skin much akin to the way she felt under the stare of the dead insects and animals that were trapped in jars and on display on the shelves.
By the time Potions ended she was ready to leap from her chair, stuffing her notes and other school stuff into her bag and rushing out the door, cold wind catching on her hair and taking the stairs up two at a time that left a burning ache in her calves from the strain; away from him, she felt as if she could breathe and think – Emilia wanted to believe that perhaps it was all in her imagination, it would certainly make her feel better that she was only victim to tricks played by her mind and that it was something she could get under control. Not being able to handle a situation that was happening around her made Emilia frustrated, that she was a mere bystander to her own life and couldn't do anything about it.
Inevitably, this too shall pass and she would laugh at herself for getting so overwrought and needlessly worried about nothing.
With Transfiguration not taking place until later in the evening, Emilia had a few hours of free time on hand and the last thing she wanted to do was fall prey to her over thinking again. Reading and studying was what she needed and lots of it. Nerves had chased away her hunger on its heels and she was left to go nowhere but the library – of all the places to escape under certain watchful eyes, the library seemed the safest.
Perhaps, Emilia pondered, she was blowing this out of proportion; her mind seemed to fall to the worst possible scenario that it could think of whenever something happened. Maybe there would be more than one rat in her bed when she went to sleep that night, or someone would magic some salt into her tea or, or - !
No use, she was just winding herself up. She was like her aunt in that regard, always thinking the worst and feeling either vindicated in her pessimism or delightfully surprised when things turned out for the better. Though Emilia supposed her aunt had more reason to be consumed by her worry and paranoia – after all, her husband and Emilia's uncle was far too fond of weekend trips away and of his young secretaries that were as disposable as napkins to him. Emilia might have otherwise pitied her guardian were it not for the drink, the distance and the distain the woman held for her niece.
The weather had turned for the possible better, the rain ceasing almost entirely and the grey clouds not as fat or dark as they were. Quidditch would start up soon again and the trips to Hogsmeade might be more bearable without cold, sharp droplets of water cutting through them, not that Emilia would go to the small village; it had been a novelty in Third Year when she first went, but it held no excitement for Emilia when she wandered through the assortment of shops by herself and she had never gone back again, preferring to spend her time on things she enjoyed.
Like reading.
Granted, she never really was all that into it at first, it had been the only form of entertainment when growing up and the television was broken from a bottle that was thrown at the screen. But Hogwarts didn't have any televisions or radios or anything modern for that matter, so reading was what she stuck to when she wasn't doing her homework or studying. She was more than content to sit on the arse breaking chairs of the library and spend her hours there turning page after page; sometimes, when it was sunny outside, she might even take to venturing out near the lake to read, though those days were few and far in-between save for later in the school year when it was nearer to summer.
Not for the first time, Emilia inwardly cringed at herself and what she had constituted for fun.
God, she really needed friends.
It wasn't as if she didn't want friends, she did (and desperately at that) but what was the point of it all now? She was already in her last year of school and she wouldn't see any of these faces ever again after leaving here. It felt strange and quite terrifying to remember that by this time next year, she would be an adult and no longer on the train to Hogwarts. Not to mention rumours and whispers of someone, a Dark Lord, rising on the horizon of the Wizarding World; Emilia didn't like to listen to that kind of talk, to hear about a man who hated Muggleborn witches and wizards or anyone who wasn't a pureblood, no use getting scared over a ghost.
She turned the last pages of the book – well, her own last pages. All these years she's been unable to learn what happens at the end, to finally turn the page she needed to in order to actually finish the book but after all this time, Emilia still couldn't bring herself to do it; her father had gifted it to her to get her to start reading, to take an interesting in being literate and sometimes she could hear the echo of his voice as he would curl up in bed with her and read it to her as she fell asleep.
Every night he would do it and every night she was excited because he always told the story best – and now that he wasn't here, Emilia felt any book she did read was lacking and she was forever chasing that feeling that was a lingering memory from a life that was barely a dream now. He had promised he would read it all until the end and then he...
Didn't.
Whatever, what did it matter? If she wanted to read it the book she would – there was nothing holding her back and she certainly didn't have any foolish hopes that kept her from being able to flick the other page to the part that was untouched, unwrinkled and unmarred. No, Emilia certainly didn't let herself be carried away on such nonsense and needless worries and if she wanted to she could, but she didn't so she wouldn't.
Turning elsewhere to homework to distract herself from her rushing mind, Emilia got ahead of her work right through to lunchtime and continued on through the small break, deciding she would much rather get it all done while she was in the right mindset instead of taking a break and not feeling the urge to finish it later. Behind her desk, Pince was eyeing her up, narrowed gaze glued to Emilia as she chewed an apple, wondering why Emilia wasn't rushing to grab some food as the others had done so. Despite the library being a refuge for Emilia, the old librarian had yet to say a nice word to her, or to look at her in any other way that wasn't a pointed glare as if to warn Emilia not to be messing about.
Seven years and the woman still didn't trust Emilia, it almost stung a little.
By the time Transfiguration was creeping up on her, Emilia had finished all her homework for that week so far and she sat biting her nails, leg jumping under the desk as she stared out the window, watching the milling students on the grass, some huddling in groups, others laying on the grass with worried glances cast upwards lest the clouds decide to cough up some lightening and thunder. Emilia was working herself up for nothing – overthinking was drowning her, spilling over the edges and feeling like sludge in her veins and she was contradicting herself at every turn; what did she have to worry about? Nothing, that was what. She could deal with staring, with whispers and giggles and pointed stares – just so long as she was left by herself then it was fine.
Packing her things away and moving out the door with Pince's sharp stare on her back, Emilia made her way to Transfiguration, knowing she would be earlier than most but it was far better than wandering in late; she had barely made it into Astronomy the previous day before her name was called and that was far too much of a close call for Emilia. She had never been tardy, never been late with homework or an assignment, never even had a teacher raise their voice at her and she wanted to keep it that way as the thought of having a teacher even look at her with disappointment was enough for a tightness to catch hold of her heart and squeeze. Hardly a teacher's pet, but nowhere near being a rebel who would flip Flitwick the bird if he chastised her for getting a bad grade.
The classroom as expected is empty with having the previous class being ushered out and Emilia stepped in, walking to take her usual seat near the back of class before setting herself firmly in the furthest end of the bench and plopping her bag down on the seat beside her; the classroom was big enough that she was able to get away with being able to sit by herself as luckily, no one tried to sit in beside her and McGonagall didn't have any qualms with Emilia sitting or working by herself.
Perhaps the older witch took pity on Emilia and didn't want to force her to sit in next to another person, or maybe she didn't even know who Emilia was.
Dorcas Meadowes was the first to walk in after Emilia, followed by a gaggle of Hufflepuff's and their cohorts, some gold and red ties mixing in with the yellow and black stripes. There was a mellow ripple of voices across the classroom as everyone settled in to their seats. No one looked at her and Emilia almost laughed at how worried she had been, that her brief inflated ego was quickly withering away – of course they wouldn't be looking at her, she was yesterday's news or, well, that morning's news which technically meant she was old news since gossip in Hogwarts came and went like a revolving door. They'll probably be talking about a Merman eating a Second Year Ravenclaw or something far more interesting than her. Relief, almost embarrassment filled Emilia as she chided herself.
Feeling it was safe that no one would think to suddenly plant themselves next to her, Emilia took her bag off of the space next her, placing it down on the ground beside her and rummaging for her textbook and parchment. Transfiguration wasn't exactly Emilia's strong suit, she wasn't bad at it per say but she didn't get excellent grades in the subject and sometimes it hurt her head to try and wrap it around the logistics of it all; to say she had done more than just scrape by in the subject in her O.W.L's surprised her and since no other subject had caught her eye enough to trudge through it another two years, Emilia kept Transfiguration on with hopes that she would still continue to surprise herself. So far, she had an average grade that saved her from failing the class entirely so she was quite surprised at herself on the improvement.
The thing about surprises was that Emilia only liked them when they came from her – a surprise when she got her work done earlier, a surprise when she did better on a test than she initially thought, a surprise when she slapped another student across the face on a Tuesday morning. Those were the surprises Emilia liked, those were the ones she wanted.
She didn't feel the movement behind her, the shift in the air as she managed to grab everything she needed from her bag, bent over the side and unable to see behind her until it was too late, placing her things on her table and straightening up and barely managing to stop herself from jumping where she sat she resettled.
Sirius Black was sitting next to her.
No, that can't be right.
Emilia stared for a moment, blinking and turning back to face the front of the classroom, something pulling at her brow and making a crease carve itself there, mind trying to wrap itself around what was happening. It shouldn't be a strange occurrence, shouldn't leave her confused and dazed just because someone was sitting next to her as she had sat beside many other students in other classes before in all her time at Hogwarts; she had even sat next to Sirius for all of Fourth Year, so why was she surprised?
Because... because?
Well, because he chose to sit there. Sometimes the seat next to her was a last resort for a lot of people and now he was choosing to sit here when he had his pick of the bunch and had his own friends to sit next to, so... why? Her eyes moved around the classroom, not missing how some people were looking at the odd pair and even his friends were looking at him confused, James Potter leaning over the desk behind him to whisper something into Remus Lupin's ear but being swatted away as the three boys stared and it made Emilia's skin crawl. Her eyes moved back to the front, ignoring how nonchalant the boy beside her was being as he whistled, taking his things out with no care and he didn't even have proper quills or pens with him and still he was McGonagall's best student.
Emilia didn't like this, not at all, not a bit; was it a joke? Maybe he wanted to tease her and make fun of her and –
"Do you have a spare pen?" He asked, not even realising how bothered Emilia was and his voice brought her eyes away to meet his, at how they curved from that playboy smile that seemed too dazzling and made Emilia's throat burn with something that tasted awfully like her breakfast.
He was asking her for a spare pen – that's it, no explanation, no hello, nothing.
Emilia had forgotten her bravado on the steps to the Astronomy tower, at how unaffected she had been but it was different now – she didn't like this, him, it was beyond her comfort zone and it made her frustrated and those feelings were hard to temper. Had he just completely disregarded the fact that she didn't want him around her? That she didn't care about what he had to do or say, anything? There it was again - that overthinking that was leaving her blue in the face and she needed to calm down, there was no point in trying to understand why he decided to forgo his friends and sit next to her no point at all.
A thick, choking breath forced its way down her throat and her hand enclosed a pen, giving it out to him. Maybe he mistook it for an olive branch as he smiled and winked at her, taking it from her hand. "Thanks, you're a sweetheart."
A rigid breath left Emilia. Lord give me strength.
i currently have 11 chapters done (written and proofread) so i'll be doing updates every four days until chapter seven! i work five days a week so after that it'll be to weekly updates (i havent decided on a day yet).
song of choice while writing: no me queda más by selena
Thanks for reading!