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chapter twelve.

The touch of October had descended over the highlands and grounds surrounding Hogwarts as the weeks stretched on. Rain was pouring down from the Heavens and did not seem as if it were going to change its mind soon and grant them some clear skies for the next while. It was partly depressing being stuck inside for so long with even the first Quidditch match of the year being reluctantly postponed until further notice as a result.

From where Emilia sat she could feel the unrelenting stare of the librarian whose nostrils had flared at the sight of Emilia as she stepped into the library that previous hour, gnashing her teeth to nothing but not speaking a single word to stop her from taking a seat at her normal table. It had taken nearly three weeks before Emilia had mustered up the courage to step foot inside the place for fear she would be chased out from it but nevertheless, the librarian had done nothing to stop her from sitting down and working.

Sirius, on the other hand, was given two weeks worth of detention with Filch, a punishment which garnered a screaming match between Pince and McGonagall as the former was in disbelief that the Gryffindor boy had once more basically got away with causing absolute, catastrophic chaos in the library.

Luckily for Emilia, she had managed to fly under the radar even despite the fact she knew that Pince had seen her with Sirius as they made their daring escape together, though she wondered if it was solely due to the fact the old librarian simply didn't even know her name to bring it to their House Head's attention.

Once again, Emilia was all too glad for her lack of notoriety because she wasn't sure if she was able to go through a whole two weeks stuck under the watchful, beady eyes of Filch as he made her scrub every square inch of the castle. Sirius had said that he had definitely learned his lesson and would never, ever go back to his old ways.

It was a lie that not even McGonagall put effort into believing in but she was hardly going to deprive the Gryffindor team of their best Beater.

Even despite being lumped with two weeks worth of detention, nothing could put a damper on Sirius' mood and he didn't even seem to care all that much about how much trouble he was in and he hadn't even said anything about Emilia being there during the whole ordeal, effectively shouldering all of the blame (even though technically it was all his fault).

He had told her not to worry, that Pince wouldn't dare to try and drag Emilia into this mess and she had asked him how it was he could possibly even know that but all he offered in response was a wink and a sneer.

Sure enough, he was right and there Emilia sat in the library, free to do so despite how Pince glared at her.

What with Sirius being forced into detention after class hours, the only times she had managed to be around him was during class and lunch and she had seen the way his hands were red and raw, aching from whatever chemicals Filch used to scrub the stone floors with.

Guilt ate away at Emilia at the sight however much he tried acting as if it didn't bother him; if she had not asked him to come with her that day, if perhaps she had chosen a different table, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess, forced to forgo any free time after class to have Filch hover over his shoulder to make sure he was doing things right.

She knew that by all logical thinking and reasoning that it wasn't really her fault but, at the same time, her mind took on the habit of forcing the blame onto Emilia even if Sirius didn't because he was paying for the consequences of his own actions; she had never asked him to stand up for her, and yet…

And yet, he did.

After how she acted towards him, brushed him off numerous times, how cold she could be, she didn't understand why he continued to… to be like this, to be nice to her, to act as if they were friends because they weren't.

Emilia could admit that she was wrong – that maybe she had misjudged him in the beginning even after she knew that it was an accident, that he never meant to humiliate her in such a form in front of the whole school as he did. Even if his way of trying to make it up to her made no sense to Emilia, the fact he still wanted to earn her forgiveness, even in such ways that might have garnered her scorn, showed to Emilia that he had been afflicted to some degree with guilt over what had transpired between them.

Her natural paranoia that seemed to be a common trait amongst Greene women, as seen with her dearly departed mother and her unfortunate aunt, gripped her; she conceded victory over to Sirius, wagering her loses in face of the fact that she could no longer hold onto her low opinion of him against all that he had done for her, but now what? Had he not stated that it had been his plan since the beginning that all he wanted was for her to not think he was the biggest git to walk on the face of the planet, and if so, then what was to become of her, of them, now that she had finally bowed to his overbearing and exceedingly friendly nature? Would Sirius finally seize the chance to go back to ignoring her, to act as if she was barely dirt on the bottom of his shoe?

Emilia's writing paused, the thought causing her body to still as she pondered over the question and what it meant for Emilia's barely existent social life that had just begun to blossom.

A month had come and gone since she had slapped Sirius across the face in the Great Hall and she wondered if she was as great an actress as Sirius had told her once as he didn't seem like he was letting up on his promise, his declaration to make her forgive him, any time soon.

Was that truly what his end goal was? Emilia wondered to what means he would do achieve it, what he would do after managing to succeed and Emilia pushed the thought from her mind. Not once did she attempt to try and understand what his true motives were behind his strange actions though she knew it couldn't be that he actually wanted her to like him, or maybe he did – Sirius was confusing like that and at times had made Emilia's head hurt if she tried to use her brain to understand him.

And she had just got used to him, too.

Sirius was like an infection in that regard. An infection Emilia really did not want around or to get used to but was forced to put up with and it was killing her on the inside.

But Sirius wasn't too bad to be around with, even if he had got her in trouble, landed her in detention, made her have to resort to self exile for weekd to avoid the library under the fear Pince might snap her up and spit her out at McGonagall's feet; not to mention Sirius completely ignored how Emilia wanted nothing more than to be left alone and refused to listen to her whenever she begged him to stop bothering her and how sometimes he would wink at her, that boyish grin on his face, the way his grey eyes would glimmer whenever he had a thought that most likely involved in someone's shoes being Charmed to dance nonstop until their feet bled.

Emilia shook her head, refusing to let anymore thoughts of Sirius Black to take root, to grow and infest her mind completely; she had work she needed to do and she would be damned if she spent her time day dreaming about Sirius Black of all people.

Emilia kept her head down, gripping her quill with a frightening amount of strength as the tip nearly broke under the pressure she was putting in on but not one iota of thought could be formulated onto the paper, leaving Emilia pursing her lips as she tried to force herself to keep writing, to keep working and to keep her mind distracted from anything, anything but him.

Maybe Sirius could read her mind because at that moment she spotted him walk in, hands in his pockets and all too nonchalant and even daring to toss Pince a wink as she snapped a ruler in half at the sight of him before he caught sight of Emilia, giving a small wave and turning direction to where her table was.

Sirius settled in the seat in front of her, that grin on his face and something sparkling in the grey of his eyes, reminding her of the stars that would glimmer over head. In her old estate, the street lights rarely worked and she would spend her time lying on the grass looking ever upwards at the night sky and those shimmering, glittering specks in the darkness and for a moment, Emilia was as lost now as she was then as he leaned across the table to her.

"Perfect, just where I thought you would be," he whispered, not caring for the fact the librarian was shooting daggers at his back.

"I see you succeeded in getting in," Emilia responded.

Sirius gave a shrug, not entirely caring all that much that Pince was gripping onto a fairly heavy book and looking as if she wanted nothing more than to chuck it at the back of his head. "Apart from her practically hissing at me, I had no problems."

"That's unsurprising."

"I didn't do nowt," he insisted before Emilia gave him a look, one that he relented to and rolled his eyes at. "Well, nothing wrong anyway."

Emilia shook her head at his denial, an amused huff of air leaving her as she flickered her gaze back down to her essay for Sprout that she was in the middle of finishing, trying to get out the last paragraph before she could say it was complete but seemed unable to do so as a sudden silence enveloped her. Library or not, Sirius not saying anything was enough to put her on edge.

She turned her eyes back at him to see him already staring at her expectantly, lips pressed together as if in an effort to stop himself from talking, fingers laced ove one another on top of the desk as he twiddled his thumbs around each other and she could see him shaking from the way his leg jumped under the desk, as if he was nervous. That couldn't be right – how could Sirius Black be nervous, let alone in front of her? The thought of it made her own nerves act up due to the longer he bit his tongue and made the silence stretch out between them.

It was unbearable and he looked ready to explode from the pressure of it all and Emilia was half worried that he might just combust into nothing right in front of her. She loosened her grip on her quill, twirling between her thumb and index finger, taking in his contorted, handsome features and cast a quick look to Pince to see the old librarian had turned away from them as if she couldn't bear to watch them anymore before a sigh bled out past Emilia's lips, clicking her tongue. "What do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

Her eyes narrowed at his words. "You have that look on your face."

"I have good looks on my face, you mean," he joked but it didn't sound right and it made no sense at all that he was acting like this. God, now Emilia was actually concerned he had done something; had he finally managed to get himself expelled over a harmless prank? It must have shown on her face as a drawn out exhale was pushed out though his nose and the tautness in his body lessened somewhat, cracking under the pressure. "Okay, fine. Quidditch practise tomorrow before the first match the week after."

Emilia's face screwed up at his words, wondering if that was what had been bothering him. She knew the first match had been cancelled, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, and she wondered if he was simply upset over it having been postponed. "Okay?"

His fingers drummed on the top of the table, pausing on his words as he was giving her that look again. "It's first match of the year."

"The one that was cancelled because of the shite weather?"

"The very same," he confirmed and said nothing more as Emilia continued to feel very confused over this whole conversation.

Was it simply because he was upset about the match being cancelled and he was complaining about it to her? No, it couldn't be because it had been cancelled at the start of the week as soon as 9 a.m. hit on Monday morning. And he was looking at with those eyes, those damned grey eyes that reminded her of the poor dog that used to roam her old home and give them all those puppy dog eyes whenever he wanted –

Oh.

Emilia shook her head, finally realising why he took the risk of earning Pince's wrath to sit across from her and why he was looking at her with those soft, silver eyes and trying to sweeten her up with that gentle smile that was trying coax a response out of her, the one that for some reason he wanted her to give him. Emilia placed her quill down on the table, trying not to bend to his will and the rain outside continued to break against the glass of the windows, a reminder as to exactly why the matched was reluctantly cancelled.

"Sirius, I don't – "

But Sirius cut her off, not caring that his voice was rising and would receive the ire of the already irritated librarian whose feathers he had ruffled to the point there were no more left; he was still looking at her like that again, with those wide, deceivingly innocent eyes that she might have let herself be tricked by if she didn't know him any better. "It'll be mad fun, say you'll come?"

Her mouth opened to give her decline, a flat out no that was expected of her but something in Emilia paused, pushing a hesitant block in her words as he stared at her in an unexpected, pleading way; she simply just couldn't understand why it mattered to him that she come to watch him play but it obviously did and it was enough for Emilia to draw back her refusal, reeling the words in as she searched for something else to say.

Her eyes flittered to the window, to the storm rolling on outside before she turned back to him. "It's raining."

"So?" he asked, as if the answer wasn't obvious.

"So – I don't want to get sick by sitting out hours on end watching you play," she further explained, exasperated that she even had to. Emilia held no interest in Quidditch and would have almost preferred to be stuck with only Filch for company as she scrubbed all the toilets in Hogwarts.

"You won't get sick!" Sirius insisted, hand going over to the spot on his chest where his heart rested. "Swear."

Emilia couldn't help but give a snort as his words, rolling her eyes at him. "Oh, you control the weather now?"

An exasperated noise was dragged out from the depths of Sirius' lungs and he slumped forward on the table, a pouting expression forming itself onto his face as he looked at Emilia through his dark lashes, the light from the window melting on his ink black curls that looked softer, as if he had remembered to run the bristles of a brush through the locks. He had hair that was to die for, but then again everything about Sirius Black, of how beautiful he was, was enough to cause envy.

A whine left him, voice dropping a bit so Pince wouldn't snap and haul him out the door by the ear. "Emilia…"

His voice, the sound of he name leaving him plucked at something in Emilia's chest as she tried not to crumble under his gaze, to remember she had a spine that she was allowed to use but suddenly it was as if the foundations of her bravado was chipping away until she was unable to do anything but let herself acquiesce to him. She fought the need to pull the strands of her hair out from her scalp from frustration at how she wasn't able to say no to him; the prick had to be involved in some kind of Dark Magic from how he was able to manipulate her so easily to give him the answers he wanted to hear.

A hiss left her as she shook her head, hand going to pinch the bridge of her nose as she wracked her mind to come up with a solution, an acceptable compromise that she could get him to agree to. "Fine, if… if it's not raining tomorrow and isn't cold, then I'll go. But that's a big if!"

Despite the uncertainty of it even coming to pass, Sirius' teeth flashed at her, a bright grin of his pearly whites that was all but delighted that she had given him some kind of answer that was anything other than her putting her foot down and shouting a no.

His hands clapped together, standing to his feet with his knees hitting the lip of the seat and causing the legs to screech as it scraped against the ground. The sound made a few in their vicinity jump as Sirius' hands reached over to rest on Emilia's shoulder, bringing him close to her and he must have had a jam pasty for lunch because his breath was sweet. "Aha! Great, then I'll see you at nine!"

Her eyes widened at his words. He couldn't be serious. "Wait, nine? As in the morning? That's so early!"

"Yeah, and you'd better haul your arse down there otherwise I'll do it myself!" he warned through a smile, Emilia not even doubting that it was a threat he wouldn't hesitate to carry through. She could picture him slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he carried her to the pitch all the while she kicked and screamed.

Emilia turned her attention to the weather outside, desperately hoping that the elements would not change their mind lest she be forced to carry out her promise.

It had been raining for a week straight, it wasn't going to let up any time soon, not with the way the rain was pouring down.

At least, that was what Emilia had thought.

She had actually woken up earlier the next day despite it being a Saturday and the curtains around her bed was drawn, no sound save for the breathing of the other girls as Emilia rubbed the sleep that clung to her eyes. She knew there was no point in going back to sleep unless she wanted to waste the rest of the day and instead began to stretch, yawning and covering her mouth as she pulled open the canopy of her bed before Emilia was greeted with something bright stinging her vision.

She sat on the edge of her bed, squinting against the light that was searing itself into her eyes as her hand rose to protect herself against permanently becoming blind, blinking rapidly to refocus on her surroundings before she resettled on the window that was beside her bed, the sight of the bright, relentless morning sun reaching in and cradling her face with its warmth.

For a moment, all Emilia could do was stare at it, standing to peer out the glass to see nothing but blue skies and the occasional puff of white, fluffy clouds that were stretched out and dispersed against the clear backdrop, a complete switch to what the weather had been like the day before, her recovered eyes taking in the view of the highlands being so uncharacteristically bright under the exposed sun so late in the year.

"You're taking the piss," she murmured to no one in particular as she stared in disbelief.

It didn't make sense, it couldn't make sense – she wasted no time in in cracking open the window, knee propped up on the window sill as her hand pushed through the opening to feel how warm it was, the occasional breeze rushing over her skin as she was unable to fathom how it was that the rain and grey storm clouds had rolled back and disappeared so soon. She had made the joke that Sirius could control the weather and now wondered if maybe he actually could because it was sunny and blue and it shouldn't be.

Even as she made her to the pitch, still taking precautionary measures and bundling herself up in a scarf and a long, corduroy coat with her hands stuffed in the pockets, Emilia couldn't believe she was making herself watch Quidditch so early in the morning, dew drops still clinging to the grass and sparkling in the morning light, staining the hem of her straight legged jeans and she wished she had worn something else other than her converse.

The warmth of the sun was waning but still going strong considering the time of year it decided to make an appearance during, a loose chill in the air that made promise of picking up later in the day as the light from above did little to melt it. Still, it wasn't raining and Emilia was a woman of her promise, hence why she was trudging her way to the pitch, looking the least enthusiastic amongst the other spectators who, in stark contrast to Emilia, were laughing and actually looked excited about watching the team during practise; she couldn't help but feel somewhat awkward what with being by herself and tugged her scarf up further over her mouth so it rested just below her nose, the material scratching at her skin.

Emilia wondered how long she would have to sit on those uncomfortable benches and lamented over the fact she didn't bring a book with her to keep herself occupied and was resigned to do little else other than to watch the Gryffindor team practise for hours on end. Still, at least it was a little warm and she had been stuck inside for the past week so some fresh air wouldn't go amiss.

Other students were filing into the stands and Emilia kept her eyes down to make sure she wouldn't slip on the muck (she had very nearly done so as she first left the castle and the last thing she wanted was to be covered head to toe in mud and dirt) when a shout drew her attention, forcing her head to look up and it was if it were her natural instinct to meet the eyes of Sirius Black as he jogged on over to her, his broom in one hand and his scarlet red robes for Quidditch fluttering behind him, his thin gold and crimson Gryffindor scarf resting around his neck.

She couldn't see the rest of the team behind him, had he been waiting there? Something tugged at her brow, making it crease at the thought before he stopped short in front of her, a grin on his face. He looked oddly pleased with himself.

"I told you, didn't I?" Sirius said, his straight, white teeth on display.

Emilia gave a lift of her shoulders, admitting defeat and looking up at him through narrowed eyes. "I don't know how you managed it, but you did it."

"Oh it was nothing, just a little Dark Magic and all that," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Who was the poor soul who had to be sacrificed?" she joined in and he gave a snarky grin.

"Let's just say, poor Remus won't be stealing anymore of socks come Winter."

A breathy laugh left Emilia, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "Oh, that's terrible, the punishment fits the crime."

"Exactly!" Sirius agreed, white teeth on display, a shake of his head causing his black curls to bounce around his head, a dark cloud over his bright smile, as ominous as two moons in the sky. "But for a day like this in the middle of October in Britain? Worth it, completely."

"His sacrifice will be remembered," Emilia muttered somberly.

"Left a right mess behind after it all, honestly. That's the problem with sacrificial rituals: they always leave a bloody mess behind."

Emilia stopped herself rolling her eyes at his silliness, his mood far too bright for this early in the morning. She wondered how he wasn't ready to drop dead from exhaustion. "All that to get me to watch you play?"

"Absolutely! Or maybe, just maybe, I'm really in tune with the weather," he joked, clearly taking the piss which coaxed a roll of her eyes from Emilia. Considering how early it was in the morning, he looked too happy despite the marks of a sleeplessness under his grey eyes, deeper and darker bruises of exhaustion as if he had spent the entire night awake. "It's fantastic that you're here, now you get to see all the action before the big match."

Emilia schooled her features to make sure they did not morph into a grimace at his words. She still couldn't get the image of the last Quidditch game she went to, of the girl who got a bludger to the back of skull and nearly caving it in. The memory made a sour taste flood Emilia's sense as she tried not to get sick.

"Brilliant," she said unenthusiastically.

"You could sound happier about it," Sirius said, looking ready to pout at Emilia's frown. "You sound as if I dragged you here."

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "You did threaten to drag me here if I didn't come."

"He says, she says, what matters is that you're here," he brushed off but Emilia didn't understand why it mattered she was here in the first place to begin with. To her, it was as interesting as football - which was to say not at all, but then again the same could be said for him not understanding why she read all the time. What was a few hours of her time, anyways? It wasn't as if she had plenty of other Saturdays to sleep in.

The longer they lingered, the more Emilia realised they were wasting time and that she would need to get to her seat, but Sirius appeared in no rush to head on in to join the rest of the team; thinking that was that and she ought to get a move on, Emilia was waiting for Sirius to leave but he continued to linger in front of her and she wondered if she should say something else before he turned heel into the pitch, gesturing to her over his shoulder to follow him. "Here, I'll walk you to the seats."

A huff left her as she quickened her walk to catch up. Maybe Emilia was being unreasonable, but she thought she was perfectly capable of being able to walk herself to the stands.

"I have two legs and can walk there by myself, Sirius," she insisted but her words were like rushing water over a rock and went unnoticed. "You should be getting ready with your teammates."

"Why, what are they going to do? Replace me? As if," Sirius snorted and Emilia had to break into a jog briefly to keep up with him until he slowed his steps. Walking beside Sirius made Emilia painfully aware of how unfit she was and tried frantically to hide how out of breath she was. "If that knobhead even thought about doing that, he'd end up in a hospital bed."

Emilia admitted that she didn't know much about Quidditch but she thought that, as Captain of the team, Potter would be the one to call all the shots but Sirius seemed pretty confident about his statement, then again when was Sirius Black ever not confident? He practically oozed it to an annoying degree that made Emilia scowl; she didn't know how he was so sure about everything he did and said; she wondered if it was ever tiring to always be so self assured and convinced in oneself.

Walking the steep steps was enough to knock the wind out of Emilia but she kept her laboured breathing quiet, the cool shade that was hidden from the sun feeling a lot colder and settling into the marrow of her bones, making Emilia glad she had decided to bundle herself up and not risk the fleeting thought that crossed her mind that morning of wearing a skirt like she had seen some of the other girls do.

But, bloody Hell, it was cold.

She must not have been as conspicuous as she had thought as Sirius gave her a slide glance, at the way she had her hands buried in her pockets and arms brought in close to her body, legs climbing the last few steps before they inevitably reached the top, the wind feeling that bit sharper considering the height.

"You could have dressed warmer," he chastised, like a mother hen cluck, cluck, clucking at her.

Emilia gave a glance down at her outfit, at her heavy enough jeans that tucked her sweater in at the waist and her jacket was normally reserved for those cold days that promised no rain, a scarf wrapped around her neck and scratching the tip of her nose raw; she thought she was dressed appropriately but her feet were feeling numb and she had been misled by the sight of blue skies into thinking that it would be much warmer than anticipated.

"I'm not cold," Emilia protested weakly, casting a side glance at Sirius in his Quidditch gear, a thin red and gold scarf hanging open around his neck. "How are you not freezing?"

"I am," he said casually. "I think my balls have jumped back up my body."

Emilia blanched, turning away from him. "I regret asking."

"Aw, don't be like that. I know that you care, somewhere deep, deep, deep down," he teased.

"If that helps you sleep at night, sure." These damn steps seemed to go on and on, how was he going to get down in time without cutting into precious minutes of practise? Sirius didn't seem the least bit bothered about missing the very thing he had pressured her into coming for.

"Considering how you've decided to keep your promise today, actions speak louder than words, Emilia darling," he grinned and her face flooded with heat at the term, looking down from him and trying to not let him see how her cheeks had taken the same hue as a pair of ripe cherries; she hoped she would be able to blame it on the cold but he was peering straight at her, through her, making her worried that he would be able to read her mind. Sometimes, it felt as if Sirius could hear her every thought, reading Emilia as easy as she could her own books. "My, my, is that a blush I spy?"

"No," Emilia immediately snapped. "No, it's cold. And I'm tired. Aren't you tired?"

"Me? I thrive off of eight hours of sleep." The bruises of exhaustion beneath his eyes, blues and purples smeared under his eyes, caressing them, seemed to say something different, whispering the truth as if he had spent the entire night awake. She wondered how it was that he even had the energy to drag himself out of bed let alone to practise Quidditch for a few hours so early in the morning.

Sometimes she would be kept up at night by the other girls, with Marlene and Mary doing each other's hair in braids, Marina and her seemingly only two friends, Yvonne Gill and Tamara Blessing and Lily Evans reading her book of choice, her light on until all hours of the morning before she became Head Girl and was allowed her own room. During those times when she would be kept awake, Emilia often felt like a zombie and without her eight hours of sleep, she felt ready to keel over.

But Sirius was always a bundle of energy, always keeping her on her toes and flip her on her head. She wondered if it was true that these types of things would rub off onto other people, she certainly felt like she would need lest she might take a nap in the stands and die of hypothermia.

At the thought a silent shudder ran through her but Sirius quickly took notice. "You sure you're okay?"

Emilia kept her jaw clenched and wished she had brought a different coat as the sun was doing little else than looking pretty where it lay in the blue sky. "I'm fine."

He had that look on that face, that one where he didn't believe her and she watched as Sirius pulled the scarf from his own neck. "Here you should take this."

Sirius made a move as if he meant to wrap it around Emilia but she took a step back, raising her hands with her palms out and shaking her head. She already had one that was covering one half of her face, did he want the other half to be covered as well? She didn't think she was that ugly. "I said I'm fine. You should keep that for yourself."

"Worrying about me? So cute," Sirius laughed, the sound akin to barking as he gave a shrug and wrapped his scarf once more around himself twice before throwing the loose end over his shoulder.

He still didn't look ready to leave and Emilia shuffled, all too aware of how awkward she felt; it was as if everything was flipped on its head, that he was the one who now more comfortable with her not talking and Emilia was the one who found the silence insufferable. It made no sense to her, when had Sirius Black liked not talking? When had she started not liking when he wasn't talking?

"Aren't you going to be late?" she finally asked.

"So what? They can survive without me for at least two minutes," was all Sirius said but still made no move to leave and Emilia knew that she would have to give a more obvious indication that she really did not need his help in finding a place to sit.

"You don't need to walk me to where I sit. I'm not going to run off."

"I know," Sirius told her, a hand reaching up to brush back a fallen curl away from his face, turning away from Emilia to look out onto the pitch where the specks of the Gryffindor team were gathering in the middle of the glass. The wind caught on his hair, coaxing a few lose strands free and twirling them in the breeze and Emilia watched them for a moment, all too lost as he turned back to look at her, his grey eyes warmer in the buttery sunlight. "I just wanted to know where you sat so I could keep an eye out for you."

A choked, yelping noise nearly leapt from the bottom of her chest before Emilia managed to catch onto it, glad for the scarf that was wrapped around her so he wouldn't see her cheeks turning the same shade as his Quidditch robes; she swallowed thickly and quickly looked around before she spotted the nearest bench, all but stomping over before planting herself on it, turning to him with her brows raised. "There, happy? I'm not going anywhere."

It seemed he was happy that she was deciding to stay as that grin on his face returned once more. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you alone. Just sit right where you are and don't move."

Sirius walked away, moving backwards and pointing to Emilia as if he thought that the second his back would turn to her that she would make a bolt for it, and maybe she should have but instead she kept her arse glued to the seat as if someone had used a Sticking Charm on her.

It was a few moments before Sirius joined his team out on the pitch and even from all the way up here, Emilia could hear James Potter's voice shouting as it echoed throughout before a bout of laughter sprung up; she knew it was Sirius that was laughing, probably brushing off James' chastising and it wasn't long before they took to the air. Emilia could spot Mary MacDonald at the goals, her hair scraped back into braids that Emilia had seen Marlene do for her that morning with James hovering in the middle and shouting orders at them as Sirius zoomed around the place with Berty, the other Beater for the team.

Other people on the stands were shouting at the team, some trying to yell at James and offer counter points to how he was trying to strategise against the Ravenclaws. Marlene was screaming at Mary with cupped hands to stop trying to flirt with their Seeker, a girl by the name of Evangeline Frank, before Mary promptly shot back a middle finger at her friend.

At times, Emilia couldn't even tell who was who with how fast they were flying around the place and it left her feeling dizzy if she tried to keep up with them.

Eventually, she managed to pick out Sirius with his dark mop of hair as he flew around, knocking the bludger back and forth with Berty as Potter and the other Chasers continued to handle the quaffle against Mary, who was managing to block every single throw they put her way. Emilia could only think of the game as being like football as she never really understood the rules of how it worked exactly other than stopping the other team from scoring a point.

She kept her eyes on Sirius, watching the way he moved in and around the pitch with ease and she tried not to think about the distance that existed as a void between the ground and Sirius, ignoring the sickening feeling was turning her stomach over; Emilia couldn't say exactly that she was afraid of heights, but she also didn't fancy becoming a crater in the ground.

There was a few close calls where Bertie accidentally hit the bludger and sent it veering off until it nearly knocked into Evangeline, or when one of the other Chaser's fumbled the ball and had to lean off their broom so it wouldn't fall through their fingers; Mary nearly crashed into one of the goal posts, going into a tail spin before steadying herself and Emilia was all too glad that she never decided to give a hand at spots.

She didn't know enough about Quidditch to know if Sirius was good at it, or if their attempt at game play was either, but it definitely wasn't as boring as she thought it would be.

An hour goes by and the sun had risen considerably in the sky, nearly blinding Emilia as she squinted at the team, wondering how much more they could possibly need to practise; they had lost the Cup last year and she assumed that Potter didn't want a repeat of, what she remembered it being called, the steal.

She sat slumped in the bench, somewhat wishing that she had brought something with her to keep herself occupied before a movement caught her eyes, pulling them until she saw Sirius on the far end of the pitch. He looked mad on his broom, his arms moving wildly around him and she thought he was trying to get Berty's attention but the other boy was on the other side of the pitch with the circled team and Emilia couldn't help it when she looked behind her, thinking that perhaps he was signalling to someone else.

A shout pulled her back and her eyes found Sirius again, saw his hands cupped over his mouth but there was too much distance for her to hear what he was saying, looking confused as he caught her attention once more and went back to moving his arm at her.

Oh, he was waving.

Now she felt ridiculous for not realising and was glad that he wouldn't be able to see how red she was. Her arm rose of its own accord, hesitant before her hand stretched overhead so he could see her clearly returning his gesture and even from here, Emilia could see the grin on his face.

She just didn't get it – it was only a wave.

But the moment was shattered when suddenly Sirius lurched forward and something smacked into the back of his head, the force of the impact causing him to fall forward until he was holding onto his broom with only his two hands, dangling with too much space between him and the ground. A ripple of shocked and alarmed gasps and shouts was pulled from the spectating crowd throughout the place, putting their hands on their mouths in horror, and Emilia stood to her feet, eyes widened with terror as she watched Sirius struggle to get a grip. The sound drawn from the crowd pulled Potter from whatever talk he was having with his team to turn and see his best mate barely holding on with ten fingers, tossing the quaffle to Mary as he tried to go and help Sirius.

Emilia's heart dropped into her stomach, further into the earth and rooting her to where she stood in shock, lungs aching as she found herself unable to breathe and all she could see was that girl taking a bludger to the back of the head and making impact with the ground, horrified gasps coming from student and teachers alike as blood began to gush from her skull.

Fright was choking Emilia's veins as she was unable to do much but helplessly watch Sirius as he put his strength into pulling himself up, finally managing to swing a leg over the broom and sitting upright just as Potter arrived at his side, gripping his friend by the shoulders and Berty flew over, face guilt ridden and looking as if he might cry with his mouth moving fast, probably trying to choke out an apology through the worry.

But Sirius didn't even seemed all too concerned that he was far too close to Emilia's liking to making a dent in the earth; in fact he looked to be the one who was least worried about it all, clapping a hand on the back of Berty, laughing while brushing of his friend's concern and looking far too okay for someone who might have not been able to make it off the pitch if he hadn't pulled himself up in time.

That sickening feeling in Emilia's stomach worsened, burning a hole straight through to her chest, an ember that given the chance would have consumed her entirely until Emilia swallowed, forcing it down and drawing in deep breaths, air pooling and washing away the ache in her lungs as relief slipped through her, charting its course around her and leaving Emilia shaken in its place.

It's relief flooding through her – relief that Sirius was alright, that he wasn't a flattened mess of blood and bones against the ground, that for the most part he wasn't hurt and he was smiling like an idiot as if he didn't very nearly just almost fall to his death. Relief that he's laughing like an fool, that he wasn't spread out on a hospital bed in critical condition.

Emilia fell back down into her seat, legs weak at the knees and unable to stand any longer, her breath running amiss on her as the emptiness her fear had left behind in its place became too hollow, shuddering breaths echoing inside of her as she watched him fly around, not a care in the world and the most gorgeous smile on his beautiful face.


I would like to give a shoutout to my fashion expert friend who I quizzed relentlessly about 70s fashion and if converse shoes were a popular enough shoe for emilia to even be wearing. Thank u bestie for letting me bother you for hours on end about every single fashion trend that could have possibly occurred from 1975 to 1981 xx

As of now, much Emilia's wardrobe would consist of a lot of mid-70s fashion ('74-'76) since she considers herself "unfashionable", meaning sweater vests, high waisted straight legged jeans and turtle necks. Emilia is also still very much a teenager so she hasn't really gone into the popular side of 70s fashion like the explosion of patterns, platform shoes, blouses, prairie style dresses, earth tones/warm browns, boots/heels, wedges, neckbows and so on and so forth. What with spending much of her time at school as well, I would assume she wouldn't be able to actually involve herself in the changing fashion trends that would occur over the course of the school year.

I did as much research as I could (ytber Devyn Crimson was another big help!) and I am deeply grateful for my friend for helping me and giving all her knowledge on 70s fashion!

i would like to sincerely thank you all so much for the feedback and comments, they all mean so much to me! you have no idea how happy it makes me to read your thoughts and support, it honestly is the only thing that keeps me going through a work week!


song of choice while writing: first love/last spring by mitski

Thanks for reading!