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chapter eight.

The orange hues of September had turned darker, the stain of October already creeping in as a cold bite found its way into the air. The weekend hails the brief respite from classes and for Emilia, she spent what free time she had on working on her assignments, powering through essay after essay until an ache found its way behind her eyes, muscles stiff from the wooden chair she had been sitting on since nine that morning and she leant back in her chair, arms stretching above her head to alleviate the pain burrowed there.

Second week of Seventh Year done and so many more to go before she was finished entirely and it felt strange to think that by this time next year, she would be a graduate and thrusted out into the world, unsure of what to do or what comes next. Going back to school (Muggle school, that is) was her next step, then on to university and then... Emilia didn't want to think about what came after.

There was only so much work and studying that Emilia could do before even she got sick of it, her brain in overload as she finished the essay due for Professor Henrik that wasn't supposed to be on his desk by the end of the week. Her usual seat in the library granted her a view of outside, of students lounging on the yellowing grass around the lake out of uniform with some very brave souls deciding to don a skirt in the cold, highland weather that was exposed to them.

Quidditch was starting up again and a game was happening by the end of the month, though Emilia didn't keep up with it despite her fascination with it in the beginning; it only took the third match she had attended in her First Year when she had witnessed a Chaser get a bludger to the back of her head and it split her skull in two before Emilia quickly realised at the turn of her stomach and the taste of bile in the back of her throat, that Quidditch wasn't for her – either as a participant or a watcher.

It was nearly lunch time and Emilia felt too tired to continue on working so she decided to call it a day, packing away her things and returning the books she was finished with.

Her bones felt stiff and sore as she shook the tiredness away from her, book bag around her body and Emilia was sure she would be left with a permanent impression etched into her skin from the weight of the satchel.

The castle was quieter than usual, though that was probably down to the fact it was still only 11:30 in the morning and some took advantage of the weekend to have a sleep in while others stayed confined to their Common Rooms, few like Emilia deciding to waste their free time pouring over books and homework in the quietness of the library. A nap was what Emilia felt like she needed to give herself that new spike of energy to continue her work after the lunch, eyes far too heavy as a result of electing instead to lie in bed awake at night, the inside of the canopy more interesting as Emilia had lain there, too wrapped up in her thoughts.

And of who was wrapped up in her thoughts.

She had not seen head nor hide of Sirius all morning, but the day was still young and he would sniff her out eventually.

Though with the return of Quidditch, she had put her hopes into the possibility he would be too caught up on practise and future games to spare her thought.

She had changed her plasters in the morning, wincing pulling the ones off of her hands and replacing them and watching how the burnt pink-red colour rippled to become washed out and match her skin tone, half impressed at them and she wondered how on earth that Sirius had managed to smuggle them out from the infirmary without being caught red-handed by Madam Pomfrey; did he have to fake an ailment in order to do so? Emilia doubted that since if he had, the nurse would not have let him even leave bed to go to dinner that evening.

Despite her best efforts, she was undeniably curious and might have asked him about it if she were more weak willed.

The castle was quiet and Emilia enjoyed the peace that the weekend brought, drinking it all in and taking in a deep breath of the fresh, highland air that surrounded her before a sound came rushing in behind her; she paused in her steps, brows drawing together as the sound grew louder – running footsteps, laughter, a voice yelling and she turned around in time to see none other than Sirius Black and James Potter, all geared up in Quidditch regalia, come bursting around a corner, large grins on their faces as they ran straight towards where Emilia was.

She stayed rooted to the ground, confused and half afraid that the two boys would run right through her before they rushed past her like a breath of air, leaving her spinning and Sirius' heels dug into the ground at last minute, turning to face her with his eyes wide, hair a mess with the wind he ran against combing through his curls and his cheeks were red, like blooming rose petals as he jolted to a stop.

"Emilia!" he wheezed, chest heaving up and down to pool cool air into his lungs to push away the burn that was accumulating there and Emilia opened her mouth – though what to say she didn't know because she was unsure if the words she wanted to say was a hello back to him or to ask him what the Hell was going on.

However, she had no time to as another shout came from behind them and she turned again and she knew that voice – Argus Filch, and her face scrunched up in disgust as she turned back to Sirius and an out of breath James Potter, who was currently holding a hand to his chest and looking close to throwing up.

"I'm going to die," James coughed out, face all too entirely red. "Or I'm going to throw up."

"No time to do either, Prongs," Sirius hissed out, grabbing his friend by the scruff of his collar and jolting him upright. "We need to hide!"

"No, can't move – go on without me. Leave me here to die, please," James complained and Sirius gave him a shake, fisting his robes in his hands and the voice behind them was only getting louder.

Emilia felt her mind work in overload as she pursed her lips, face drawn together as she thought for a moment; Emilia did not like getting into trouble in any shape or form, she did not like even brushing shoulders with trouble lest it might grab a hold of her and draw her in and she already had a taste of that with Sirius.

But, a wrench was thrown into the works and Emilia had no love for Argus Filch and even knew he went out of his way to make a student's life Hell, often managing to find a way to land them into detention to scrub floors until the skin of their hands were peeling.

It was her first rebellious thought of her own conscious mind, almost in disbelief she had spent so little time deliberating over the situation and how she could affect it. Filch had made her cry once in her Third Year after she accidentally spilt her ink all over the ground and he had yelled at her that he was going to make her clean every square inch of the castle to make her learn her lesson about respecting her surroundings and not making a mess. Emilia had been too afraid to go to any teacher but when a week had past and nothing had been brought up, she had realised he had been all wasted air and no conviction about his threats but it had made her more wary about making sure not to spill any of ink ever again while a long held, deep resentment for the caretaker took root in her heart.

A nod of her head and she took a step closer, trying to ignore the teeth of hesitancy nipping at her heels as Sirius dropped James' collar, his friend going back to heaving with his hands on his knees.

"Go, hide in the corner," she ordered and Sirius turned to her, her words clearly confusing him before she gave him a pointed look and gave a wave of her hand to usher him away lest he get spotted by Filch's beady eyes.

"Whatever you say," Sirius returned, giving her a grin before once more yanking poor James' collar, a choked sound leaving him and eyes nearly popping out from behind his glasses as he was dragged off around another bend to hide, a sweat on his brow making his black, messy hair stick to his forehead.

Emili noted that for captain of the Quidditch team, he didn't seem very athletic.

Recollecting her thoughts, Emilia turned on her heel and began walking back the way she came, trying to keep that nervous jitter beneath her skin at bay as she gripped the strap of her bag; she knew this was vastly out of character for her and part of Emilia was screaming at her, asking her what she was thinking getting involved and risking having to mop the floor for the next month should she be caught out in her lie.

Her steps did not waver and neither did her certainty about helping out the very person she had sworn to dislike; the tittering nervousness was making her feel nauseous, mouth becoming dry as her hands began to clam up, yet she kept herself focused on her task. Every fibre of her being was resisting against this change, demanding why she was acting so out of turn after she had promised to never stray into the path of trouble ever again and Emilia could not give a proper response.

Then, a whispering voice in the back of her head began murmuring words to her, words that were telling her that perhaps the reason she was doing this was to show her gratitude for what he had done for her – helping him out when he had done the same for her. Saving his hide in return for him stealing her plasters, though she was the one heading into the lion's dead and her fear spiked as Filch rounded the corner, hollow cheeks huffing and puffing and he looked as if he was ready to collapse as his pace slowed, beady eyes zeroing on Emilia as she froze to the spot.

His greasy hair stuck to his sweaty skin as if he had been chasing down both James and Sirius for some time and she gulped, trying to shove her heart back down into its original place as it had leapt into her throat, trying to not pull a face when the caretaker stopped only a few inches from her and he was seething with his yellowed teeth gritted. Emilia desperately tried to maintain an air of innocence as she stared up at him, an ignorant look playing on her face as he glowered down at her.

"You!" he hissed and his breath was as sour as his demeanour, forcing Emilia to suppress a gag as she tilted her head to the side.

Emilia made sure to lay her ignorance on thick, pointing to herself and taking a look around even though she knew there was no one else he was referring to, the only other two souls in their nearby vicinity were probably holding their breath to remain silent.

She turned back to him, eyebrows raised and trying to appear confused. "Me?"

"Where'd they go?" he scraped out, narrowed eyes trying to pick her apart.

"Who?"

"Don' play games with me, girl," he threatened and to Emilia's despair, he took another step to bring himself even closer to her. "Not unless if you don' wanna be scrubbin' them floors for the nex' month."

Emilia gave a sigh, one that appeared as if he had caught her red-handed and that she had no choice now but to tell him the truth. Giving a lift of her shoulders, she pointed in the opposite direction that Sirius and James were, down a long hall that was also the furthest away from the Quidditch pitch which effectively would lead the caretaker on a wild goose chase and allow the two trouble makers to not have cross paths with him. "That way. I saw them running down that hall."

He followed the direction her arm went, sharp eyes bouncing back to her but Emilia maintained her straight face, trying to hold her breath so as to not breathe in the foul stench of his sweat and he lingered for a moment, trying to see if she would break but when she did not, he took off without another word, pace picking up into a jog. His keys jangled as he moved further and further away from the suspects and his wheezy breathing echoed around him before he turned a corner and the sight, sound and smell of him disappeared into nothing.

Emilia waited with bated breath to see if the caretaker decided to turn tail and come back to grill her again but instead she was met with silence and she deflated, the gust of air she had been holding leaving her body and the sound alerted the two boys that the coast was clear, all but stumbling out from behind the corner; James leaned against the stone wall, hand to his heart and looking a little green while Sirius' face shone from the sweat he had worked up from running in the heavy Quidditch gear he was wearing, looking at her with something new in his eyes – something akin to respect, or perhaps he was seeing her in an entirely new light.

He brought his hands together and began clapping, stepping closer to Emilia and she shifted on her feet, feeling almost shy at his reaction. "Bravo, I had no idea you were an actress!"

She gave a breathy laugh, feeling slightly embarrassed at his exclamation and feeling her cheeks turn red, offering a lift of her shoulders and trying to retain some of her usual, disinterested composure. His reaction made her feel even more awkward. "Yeah, well."

"Cheers for that," he said and she met his eyes, unable to ignore the honest sincerity that lingered in them, that was laced into his words. It made something turn in her stomach, a tightening in her chest – she hoped that because she had done this didn't mean he thought he was succeeding in his plan to get her to change her opinion about him. "I don't like to think of what might had happened if he found us out."

"Maybe don't do anything that would give you something to be afraid of."

"Where's the fun in that?" he rebutted, shifting his weight to one leg as he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head and pursing his lips. Emilia was quite mesmerised by his curls as they swung around him, catching on the scattered rays of light that were stretching in through the windows. "Besides, the old geezer has it out for me, I'm telling you."

She couldn't help but give a roll of her eyes at him. "Probably because you always manage to get on his nerves and make him have it out for you."

Emilia had only been witness to a few pranks that were thought up by Sirius and his friends, with stories of their other adventures being greatly exacerbated in the public mind. While she might have been lucky to not have been caught in one of their stink bombs, she was unfortunate enough to have been in the room during History of Magic in Fifth Year when they Charmed paper birds that would not stop screaming as they continued to shit ink all over the students as Flitwick tried to do damage control.

"I mean, you're right, but it isn't that big of a deal," he all but whined, trying to prove his innocence to her, only for Emilia to look up at him with that pointed stare before he clicked his tongue in defeat. "We only glued all keyholes on the fifth floor floor shut. He's overreacting, honestly."

Filch must have been chasing them up and down the stairs if they decided to do that on the fifth floor and she took a peak at James Potter behind Sirius, noting how he looked close to throwing up his lungs.

A huff of air left her, shaking her head in amusement at him.

"And yet you ran away," she countered to his excuse.

"Excuse you, I quite like living and if he had his way, he would have had us skinned in First Year to use us as a nice rug," he shot back, a visible shudder running through him at the thought and Emilia thought he was only half exaggerating with regards to their very unlikable caretaker. Sirius paused for a moment and brought his eyes away from hers, drawing them down to her chin and to her hands, his studying of her making that tight feeling in her stomach appear. "I see you're putting those plasters to good use, and yet you chastised me for stealing them in the first place."

She looked down at her palms, the band aids looking much like her own skin save for them being entirely made of a woven, plastic material. Her pants covered the cuts on her knees and her turtleneck was high enough that some of the plaster dipped behind the neck. "Might as well use them, I feel bad for throwing them away."

"Still not hearing a thanks," Sirius commented, voice taking on a sing-song like quality and Emilia gave him a dead-pan look.

"Thank you so much for robbing Madam Pomfrey of her supplies and then lumping me with the evidence," she said and he pondered over her words for a moment, as if mulling over the gratitude and unsure if it was heartfelt or not before giving a shrug.

"Eh, I'll take it," he finally decided and Emilia thought that that would be it, taking a glance over to see James Potter regaining some colour in his face and breathing going back to normal as he leaned against the wall before Sirius moved himself into her line of vision again, looking at her with an expression of disbelief on his face as she was forced once more to turn her attention on him. "Don't tell me you're studying on a Saturday?"

His words came out as a splutter and she was befuddled, looking down at her book bag and back at him. "So?"

"It's Saturday!" he repeated as if it was the most obvious thing in the word and she had no idea how a calendar worked.

"Your point being?" she asked, a sigh bleeding out of her.

"You're supposed to, you know, relax?" He retorted, emphasising the last word and Emilia felt a frown tug at her lips.

"Not all our brains hurt from trying to concentrate for a minute," she shot back but he only gave her a laugh, a clear, deep sound that echoed around them. Sirius had a nice laugh, a friendly one that was almost intoxicating to anyone around him. Everything about Sirius was beautiful but it was as if he had no idea just how much so.

"Yeah, well, my brain has me in the top five of our year, so I think it's doing pretty alright," he replied and she knew he was right. She wondered if he was naturally gifted with intelligence or just studied when no one was around; if it were the latter, had Emilia not been born with pride, she might have thought to ask him for help with her studies but her own vanity held back her tongue from letting slip those words.

"Right," she said as if not quite believing his own words. "How many bludgers have you had to the back of the head?"

"I stopped counting after the first eight," he responded with a shrug of his shoulders before his spine straightened as if a lightbulb moment had occurred for him, smile on his face growing wider. "Speaking of, we're going to practise for the next Quidditch game. You want to come?"

Emilia flickered her gaze outside to the window and saw storm clouds rolling in, a darkness encompassing the castle and the surrounding highlands. Already whatever students had decided to brave the weather to laze around on the grassy knolls were rushing inside, retreating into the safety of the castle.

The thought of getting caught in the rain and being soaked to the bone did little to entice Emilia of Sirius' offer and her face scrunched up, turning back to him. "What, go and watch you sit on brooms for three hours and fly around?"

"You make it sound like it'll be pure shite. You should come! We'll be practising until lunch, you could at least come for a few minutes," he said and didn't wait another moment for her reply before he began walking away from her backwards, grin wild and wolfish and he grabbed the arm of the only just recovered James Potter who opened his mouth as if he had meant to join in on the conversation before Sirius hauled him off. Emilia opened her mouth to argue but he would not allow her the opportunity to refuse him as he quickly left in a hurry.

"I'm not your pup that you can drag around with you, Padfoot!" James protested, trying to pull himself free of Sirius' grip but his friend paid no heed to him as he turned around to give Emilia a wave goodbye.

"I'll see you on the stands!" Sirius hollered and Emilia's hand rose of its own accord, as if to return the wave goodbye but she halted in the move, hand half raised and stilled before Sirius turned the corner as James berated him for holding onto him for truly acting like a dog and grabbing him by the scruff of his neck.

Emilia listened to them go, their loud voices shrinking away to nothing, a silence befalling Emilia once more as she stood rooted to her spot, hand half held up from when her body had thought to betray her and return the wave goodbye he had given to her. This was only a small deviation from the plan and she could get back on track, she just had to remember not to fall victim to his charm and his infectious friendliness.

Emilia remained rooted to the spot, frozen as a grimace flickered on her features, pressing her lips together as she shook her head, the fact that she had lied for Sirius to get him out of trouble dawning on her. To Emilia, she might as well have thrown her entire rulebook out the window; she was always such a stickler for the rules, regardless of her own feelings for them, and she couldn't believe she had just straight up lied to Filch and saved Sirius and James' hide.

She had lied.

A giddiness began bubbling in her – this was the first time she had done anything rebellious, had even gone against authority in any shape or form and there was a drunken feeling of excitement coursing through her.

Too caught up in her own thinking, Emilia jumped when she heard the clap of thunder, a booming sound that tore her attention away and she peered out the nearest window to see that the storm clouds that had been rolling in were blanketing the sky, covering it entirely and gentle rain drops were falling down onto the earth below with promise of it becoming heavier and less kind.

Did Sirius really expect her to go out in this kind of weather? Her face screwed up and she crossed her arms around herself; she hadn't even intended to go before the weather took a turn for the worst but now she was even more determined to remain indoors where she was safe and wouldn't be subjected to the freezing rain cutting straight through her into her bones where a chill would become rooted.

By lunch, the elements outside had taken a turn for the worst and the wind howled as it forced itself through the cracks and breaks of the old castle, rain battering against the windows and leaving the students with naught else to do but to remain inside. Emilia didn't mind the rain all that much when she was inside, the sound of it pattering against the glass had been a soothing sound when she had taken her nap, waking up a half hour before lunch and cleaning herself up before deciding to go for some food.

She wondered how badly Sirius and the other members of the team were caught up in the storm; they were probably drenched to the bone and she could imagine his hair being plastered to the sides of his face, looking not unlike a drowned rat caught in a puddle down a drain. The imagery in her brain made an airy chuckle leave her, corners of her lips turning up at the thought of Sirius Black looking any way like a rat, that was the only way he could look any way less handsome than he was.

Emilia nursed her cup of tea, blowing on it to cool it down as her vision became unfocused, lost in the sea of her thoughts; she couldn't help but wonder if the team went ahead with practise even during weather like this. She supposed that it made for good experience should the elements decide to turn on them during an important game and Emilia was glad that she never had an inclination for sport, either Muggle or otherwise. She had an affinity for getting broken bones and getting hurt when she was growing up that she preferred to not put herself in place of any kind of danger that would do the same to her, however interesting Quidditch seemed.

Too caught up in her own thoughts as per usual, Emilia didn't see Sirius until he moved in across from the other side of the table, hair damp and looking more curly from the water the strands held and her eyes focused in once more, taking in his face that looked a lot paler than usual with his cheeks splotched with soft, blooming pink and his nose was stained with the same colour as the cold had nipped at him.

On his face he held a pout, looking none too pleased and Emilia could guess that he wasn't happy about being caught up in the rain and cutting wind.

Sirius gave a cough and took a cup of tea between his hands, using the hot liquid to regain some feeling in his long, frozen fingers, sipping at it while maintaining eye contact with Emilia and she could see something accusatory lingering beneath the grey clouds of his irises and she was confused. Surely Sirius wasn't blaming her for the weather? He placed his cup down, ceramic clinking against the plate before he opened his mouth to speak.

"You didn't come to see me play."

Her eyebrows jumped up her forehead in surprise at his words, confusion mingling in with her features at his words. That was it? She hadn't thought that was what had made him pull such an expression. "Evidently as I'm currently not in risk of a cold."

"I thought you would!" He whined.

"What gave you that impression?" she asked him, genuinely unsure of if he was truly upset about her not coming.

"Well, I asked you to come, didn't I?" he shot back at Emilia, crossing his arms and placing his elbows on the table, leaning closer towards Emilia.

She gave a shrug back, taking a sip of her own tea and savouring the taste of it. "Yeah, you did and I never replied that I would."

"You also didn't say that you wouldn't."

His words pulled another gentle, breezy laugh from Emilia as she placed her cup down, eyes unable to hide the amusement that twinkled in them. The boy was at risk of pneumonia and he was upset at her not coming to watch him play? No, that couldn't be it, he was probably only just pretending so he could sit across from her to annoy her about something. "Something not being a negative doesn't make it a positive."

He gave a scoff, rolling his eyes at her jibe as he began to stuff his face with food, the silence welcoming for Emilia as she fiddling with her cup, small, nimble fingers twisting and turning it from where it sat on its plate, the golden brown liquid steaming. She could almost see her reflection in the surface, of her hair looking slightly messy despite having combed through it after her nap and the plaster on her chin loose from where she was tilting her head down. Emilia was half worried that Sirius would choke on his food with how much he was shoving into his mouth, reminding her of the stray dog that would roam around in her old estate when the other kids would give it their left over McDonald's to eat from.

The colour in his face was returning too, and as he gulped down his food, he calmed down with each bite as the initial hunger for food became sated. It was almost mesmirising to watch him eat as if he were afraid it would go on him. Sirius didn't seem embarrassed that Emilia was watching the way he ate, taking a drink and meeting her eyes as the silence stretched on between them again as it was wont to do due to Emilia having as much of an ability to hold a conversation as a chicken was able to fly.

He was doing it again – studying her through narrowed eyes and it made Emilia uncomfortable, wiggling in her seat under his stare. Was he doing it consciously because he knew how it made her feel, or what he so unaware of how sharp his own gaze was?

Emilia held back her voice lest she might end up spurting out the question, trying to enjoy the silence before he swallowed the food in his mouth and his shadow stretched further across the table, forcing Emilia to look up and see that he had risen off his seat so that his face was closer to hers, those silver eyes inspecting her and not caring for Emilia's own personal space. She couldn't help but to reel back until she was under the threat of falling backwards off her chair, looking at him in a pressing manner at his strange behaviour. She could smell the rain off of him, fresh Autumn air and the earthy ground; had he taken a fall from his broom? He didn't seem to be injured and the smell of him was surrounding her, smothering her entirely.

"How're your injuries?" he finally asked and Emilia clicked her tongue, settling back into her seat and trying not to be intimidated by how close he was to her.

"They're hardly injuries, Sirius," she tutted, brushing his question off and he sat back down, pursing his lips and seeming displeased with her response.

"Let me see," Sirius insisted and before Emilia could leap away, he was reaching over the table and he took her hands in his, gripping the tips of her fingers. She made an attempt to try and yank her hands out of his but his grip was steely and his touch was freezing, numbing almost as he took her hands closer to him, forcing Emilia to lean over the table.

Once more, she felt how rough his hands were and he inspected the plasters that only barely covered the broken skin of her palm, pink and puffy with dried blood clinging to the surface and she saw the way his face screwed up. Emilia didn't think it was that bad and thought that maybe Sirius was just overreacting because it didn't even hurt all that much despite the marrow deep ache that nestled there after her morning of writing essays and transferring notes.

She made a show of trying to tug herself free from his once but Sirius would not allow it, pulling them closer to his face as he continued his examination that he was subjecting her to. Emilia didn't even know what he hoped to gain from looking at them, especially considering the way his face would pinch at the sight; his hands were leeching the warmth from hers and soon his touch became bearable without feeling as if she was going to lose fingers to frostbite, though the edge of the table was digging into her ribs and she could see some flickering eyes casting their way towards them.

Yet, Emilia found herself not caring as much as she used to; much like this morning, it was another moment of her being out of character but she realised it didn't really matter to her what they would say because it wasn't as if any of them would have the gall to say so to her face and as long as she didn't hear it, she realised she didn't care all that much.

The feeling of Sirius' fingers brushing over her palm sent a jolt to her, jumping a small bit but he seemed not to notice as he cradled her hands in his; his hands were larger than hers and Emilia wondered what it was that fascinated him so. She let him do as he wished for the time being so that it would be over sooner, blowing a whisp of hair that had fallen into her eyelashes away to settle against her temple, studying Sirius' face as he studied her hands, neither being aware of what the other was looking for.

His hair was still full of rain, curls weighed down and looking longer with some trapped behind the shell of his ear, leaving the side of his face clear, the curve of his jaw looking sharper with the shadows cast from his back to the light. His eyebrows were furrowed and there was a thoughtful expression carved into his features and his hands were burning hers now, sharing the warmth they had stolen from Emilia as he gave a whistle, peering up at her with those silver eyes under those thick, dark lashes that any girl would kill for.

"Looks septic," he finally declared.

Emilia gave a lift of her shoulders, not all too bothered about the surface level scrapes she had received. He had yet still to let go of her hands. "It'll be fine by Monday."

He kept his hold on her, eyes spotting the one on his chin and he let one hand of hers go and he rose from his chair, not having to go far to meet her half way and Emilia became instantly aware of him being far too close to her liking, and it seemed Sirius did as well, hand halting in the air as if he had meant... she wasn't sure what he meant to do, pausing away from her face; Emilia took the moment of distraction to sit back straight in her seat, pulling herself away from him and he remained stunned for a moment, as if he was playing catch up with himself and then he slammed himself back down into his seat.

He must be recovering from being subjected to the harsh rain and biting cold as more colour began to return to his face all the while he shoved his face with a cucumber sandwich, looking more interested in the cut of the bread than Emilia.

"You really should go to the infirmary," he insisted, nearly choking on his food as he spoke through it, the sight being enough to make Emilia wonder how anyone ever thought Sirius Black was handsome. "Don't want to lose your limbs due to stubbornness."

She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. "I won't."

"See? That's just like how my Uncle died, pure stubbornness," Sirius shot back in a gotcha moment as if he had caught her in a corner. "Well, that and the chronic illness he'd been suffering for six years, but I bet the stubbornness didn't help."

Suppressing another roll of her eyes that might end up forcing her eyes into that position permanently, Emilia let a forced sigh of exasperation seep out through her mouth, looking at him as he shoved yet another sandwich in his mouth. "Don't you have friends to go annoy?"

"They're gone to dry up. Peter and Remus came to watch us play to support us, unlike some people, and Peter was sneezing non stop. I'm pretty sure Madam Pomfrey is hunting him down after she caught him nearly sneezing his brains out through his nose," Sirius snorted, rubbing his hands together to brush off the breadcrumbs that clung to his palms, before he turned to her with a sharp expression, as if trying to see if she had an ulterior motive. "Why'd you ask?"

"You always seem to be around them," Emilia finally forced out, not looking at him as she continued to fiddle with the handle of her cup. She could feel his eyes narrow at her and there was a heat in her cheeks. "But... also not."

"That doesn't even make any sense. Why? Are you using me for my friends?" Sirius gasped, eyes wide and shaking his head in disappointment, as if he was hurt by this – though what this was Emilia wasn't sure as she continue to look at him out of bewilderment. Why would she ever use him for his friends? He slumped in his seat, as if relenting and ran a hand through his damp hair, curls catching on his long fingers and soft droplets of water slipped free, catching on the pale light seeping in through the windows and giving him a halo of crystals that clung to the dark strands. For a moment, Emilia was caught up before his face came into view again, cheek resting against his hand. "Who is it, tell me, I won't tease you. Remus? Peter? James? Bloody Hell, I hope not, that's a losing battle you didn't even have a chance in."

Emilia stared at him, beyond the realm of being confused as he stared at her with that shit eating grin on his face, feeling as if she was lagging miles behind of his racing mind. A crease formed between her knitted brows as she tried to come up with an answer, brain scrambled but she at least knew that Sirius was teasing her, that wasn't hard to see. "What? What are you raving on about?"

"Oh my, is it me? I'm so flattered but I'm not really looking to date anyone right now," Sirius explained, holding up both of his hands towards her and Emilia's face fell into one of bemusement before into one of distaste.

Making sure to not waste another moment, she pushed her plate away from her, amber liquid of her tea spilling out and pooling around her cup as she turned without wasting a word on him, silently making a move to go.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sirius asked in a hurry as Emilia spun her legs out from under the table, only twisting back around to shoot him an unamused glare.

"Away from you."

Instead of being offended, Sirius gave another round of laughter, smiling from ear to ear and before Emilia could look away from him, he gave her a wink, the long thick lashes dusting the top of his cheeks as that charming smile turned into a playboy sneer. "Playing hard to get, I see."

Sirius gained no reaction from Emilia as she stood, back facing him and turning to go before he let out a groan.

"Oh, come on," Sirius said, trying his hand at back tracking. "Don't leave, you barely even ate anything."

Facing him again, Emilia looked down at her own plate, seeing that he was right but instead of relenting, she turned away from him. "I lost my appetite."

"Got a hunger for something else, huh?" Sirius teased, voice calling after her and she could picture the face he was making without having to turn to see it; eyebrows wriggling, that sneering grin on his handsome face and her response consisted of her giving him the middle finger over her shoulder without looking at him. He gave a startled gasp, and she knew he was being overdramatic and that he was sitting there with an aghast look on his face, hand over his heart like an old woman who was just greatly offended.

She didn't even bother to suppress the smile that flittered across her face because it wasn't as if he could see it anyways.

song of choice while writing: brutal by olivia rodrigo (which is also currently emilia's anthem)

I want to thank you all for all the feedback i've been receiving on this story! reading all your reviews and comments mean so, so much to me and they make my day! i write this story for me, but also for you guys, so i love hearing all your thoughts on this story!

also i want to make a note that i'm irish and we share a lot of slang with britain but sometimes i end up writing irish slang/irish way of speaking (specifically with regards to hiberno-english) into dialogue so if at any moment sirius or anyone else starts sounding like that they're from fucking balla or loughrea that's completely unintentional and my bad.

also rip me i got burnt tae fuck and back in this 30 degrees heat everyone pray for me im working all this week in this kinda heat

Thanks for reading!