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chapter five.
It was a few short hours before dinner when Emilia found herself outside of McGonagall's classroom, heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach and weighing her down to the spot she found herself rooted on; it hadn't been long since classes ended and the sun was still at a high point in the sky, the heaviness of dusk pushing it down and making it bleed a dark, rusty orange and it felt warm on the back of Emilia's neck.
Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth and she was choking on her own stuttering heartbeats as she raised a hand, rapping her knuckles on the old, dark wood of the door. She knocked on it thrice before pausing to hear McGonagall's voice calling for her to enter.
The Professor was at her normal desk at the top of the room, quill scribbling away at the parchment beneath her, peering over the top of her spectacles and not acknowledging Emilia as the younger witch squeezed herself through the door, closing it quietly behind her; she was trying to appear as small as she could possibly be all the while her feet dragged themselves before the looming figure behind the desk, hands knotted together in front of her.
There was no sound save for the scratching of McGonagall's quill as Emilia tried to stem the nervousness that was gnawing away at her insides before the writing stopped. McGonagall placed the quill back into the ink pot, facing her student with fingers laced between one another and face pinched together.
Everything about McGonagall was sharp – her eyes, the curve of her nose, her lips pressed into a tight light and it felt as if her gaze alone was prickling Emilia with knives from how she was taking in every aspect of her student.
"Is Mr. Black not with you, Ms. Greene?" McGonagall quizzed and Emilia shuffled her feet, unsure of how to answer; she had not realise that she was meant to bring him with her. Butt wasn't her fault if he decided not to show up, but something in Emilia's mind told her that he wouldn't get into too much trouble even if he was a few minute late to his punishment. Emilia offered a shake of her head as an answer and McGonagall gave a pressed sigh, reaching up to fix her glasses, tutting as if she wasn't surprised before standing to her feet. "No matter, now that you're here we'll start. Follow me, Ms. Greene."
Emilia dutifully followed silently as McGonagall manoeuvred her way around the desk, beckoning her student to act as her shadow as she led Emilia to one of the off rooms to the side, jiggling the handle to open the heavy door. It was a large enough room, filled wall to wall with dust covered papers and boxes, books with worn titles and aching spines from how many times they've been read and held; Emilia suppressed a cough as she took in a breath that resulted in dust tickling the back of her throat, reaching down to leave her with a need to scratch the inside of her chest. McGonagall gave a flick of her want and light illuminated the place overhead, no electricity as per usual, and it casted long, unusual shadows on McGonagall's face as her hat left half her face in darkness.
"You will first sort all the shelves on the left hand side by year and in each year, to sort them alphabetically. And no magic," McGonagall explained and Emilia despaired at the sight. There were manuscripts with barely legible writing, half worn and washed away ink that made them just decipherable enough if Emilia squinted her eyes at a certain angle. "When you have that done, you may leave. Hopefully Mr. Black decides not to let you go through this punishment alone."
Emilia bit her tongue to prevent herself making a sarcastic quip about the reliability of Sirius Black and instead gave her a nod in response, swallowing her words and McGonagall left Emilia to it, robes billowing and leaving the door half open, just enough privacy for Emilia to let out a disgruntled groan, shoulders falling and appearing hunched as she glowered at the task ahead of her.
She would have a long while yet until dinner and there was no getting out of this. She might as well power through it, hopefully do a good enough job that she won't be forced to redo it and then be able to leave without ever having to think back on the fact she actually got detention for the first time in her life; Emilia gave a sigh, deciding to start from the bottom, electing to sit on the ground as she pulled out whatever was resting on the dusty shelves, ignoring the thin film of grime clinging to her fingertips as she began to sort through the parchment and papers, not even bothering to read what it was that she was supposed to be sorting out.
Normally, Emilia would love the smell of books but this was something earthy, mouldy even, and it made her nose scrunch up as she tried not to think how dirty her robes might be when she stood. Thankfully, it was silent, which allowed Emilia to half pay attention to her work while also enveloping herself in her own thoughts.
She knew that it wasn't that big of a deal, it was just detention, she didn't even think herself to be a teacher's pet enough to see it as almost a slight that McGonagall would punish her for it.
It was just so unfair – it wasn't even her fault, not really, and maybe if it had been because she forgot her homework or talked back to her teacher, then she wouldn't have been so upset but that wasn't the case. Emilia didn't like to think of herself as someone who blamed all her problems in life on others around her – it was her life, and whatever happened needed to be in her control so if something did go wrong, it would be her fault.
But this was different – he had gotten under her skin, flipped a switch and a fuse had gone off as a result. In such a short record amount of time, Sirius Black had single-handedly ruined her clean record in Hogwarts.
Being a laughing stock or having people talk about her outburst? That Emilia could handle.
She supposed she picked up being such a control freak from her aunt, another bad trait passed down in the Greene family. She would almost prefer an inherited, genetic disease.
That's how it was for a short while and Emilia found herself almost hoping Sirius didn't show up, not even caring that the bulk of the work landed on her to deal with since she doubted McGonagall would make her work through dinner, so a few hours at this meant nothing. Maybe she could even get all of it done before dinner, squeeze in some reading and get some of her homework done. The voices of other students were carried in on waves, a background noise as Emilia finished the bottom shelf, remaining seated as she moved onto the second, trying to ignore how the accumulated dust feels on her skin.
At the rate she was going, she would get this done in an hour and a half tops, and Emilia was making her way through it all, bit by bit.
Then, a loud bang that made Emilia jump where she sat, hand rushing to over her heart and turning around with wide eyes to frantically see if she had somehow managed to knock down something behind her, only to catch sight of Sirius Black through the crack of the door as he sauntered into the classroom, not even trying to appear apologetic for being a half hour late to his own detention.
Stifling an inward groan, Emilia gave a huff as she turned her back away, trying to tune out their voices at McGonagall admonishing Sirius, said boy waving her words away and calling her Minnie (the boy could get away with bloody murder here) and Emilia didn't even bother to turn around when he walked in, hands in his pockets and taking in the sight of the work ahead of him.
"Bollocks, that's a lot," he murmured. If he meant for the words to be for him alone or for her to respond to, Emilia didn't know but kept her mouth shut regardless, dead set on carrying out her plan of just straight up ignoring him and his entire existence, thumbing through the pages, books and boxes and sorting them into their categorised piles. "If I had known we were going to do some cleaning, I wouldn't have come so early."
It almost made her want to roll her eyes at the fact he called this being early, but she get her jaw clamped closed, head bowed down and continuing her work.
There was silence between them as the creak of the door behind Emilia screeched on until the lock hit the frame of the door, leaving the two of them with more privacy than Emilia would have liked. Whatever, as long as she got the work done then she could leave and not have to suffer through this again. Sirius idled for a moment longer on his feet before walking to the spot across from Emilia, reaching up to grab the top boxes which would have been too far out of her reach and sitting himself down in front of her. She kept her attention down on her work, pretending that his presence didn't perturb her in any shape or form, not even giving him the satisfaction of watching him through the corner of her eyes.
Powering through it wasn't enough, she was trying to hurry through the miles and miles of parchment that seemed never ending and was sacrificing the perfection she was trying to achieve, her organisation becoming sloppy as the pregnant silence between them stretched on.
Emilia was on edge, knowing that the quiet wouldn't last forever but she couldn't have a repeat of what happened in Transfiguration; last thing she needed was to get another detention during one she was already doing. Each flip of the page was a cut to her nerves, hoping that the dredging of time around her was only in her mind and that it was really an hour or two that had passed so that she could leave and go get herself from dinner.
Then, a cough.
"So..." he began, pausing in his work but Emilia did not mimic him, did not stop but he didn't seem to be picking up on her signals that indicated her lack of interest towards starting up a conversation with him. She flipped a page in her hand, the edges sharp as she continued to quickly rush through the pile near the bend of her knees. "First time?"
No reply, nothing to say that would carry a conversation from Emilia's end.
"I could tell it was your first time, you looked ready to cry when she gave you detention," Sirius commented and his words stilled her for a moment, actions pausing as she realised that he had actually seen her fit to cry over something so stupid as a detention. She might have felt embarrassed enough if she cared about what he thought about her, but there was something inside her that made her cringe over there realisation that someone, someone very living with a working memory, had seen her get red face and teary eyed over having a teacher hand her out a detention. "Don't worry, she's a big old softie, she'll probably make us do this for an hour or so and then send us off."
Again, no response.
Emilia was spending her energy by channelling it into getting the work done as quick as possible, flipping through pages and parchments, manuscripts and old textbooks that were older than the 20th century and she narrowly missed splitting open the delicate skin on her fingers along the sharp edges of these old things; despite their age, their danger never waned.
There was another heartbeat of silence and Emilia wondered if he was finally being discouraged in his effort to try and talk to her. Part of Emilia was undeniably curious as to why, after seven whole years and even one of those years where they sat next to each other, that he was suddenly afflicted with an interest in her, that he suddenly thought her worthy of his attention and time.
But the other half of Emilia, the stronger half, was too weighed down by pride to lift some of it off to open her mouth and ask and so, she kept herself shrouded in silence and apparent disinterest.
Yet, Sirius was not deterred. For all that she disliked him, Emilia had to commend him for being stubborn and persistent in his pursuit to pull Emilia's voice from her.
"You know it was really embarrassing how you let me call you Emily the other day," Sirius told her and Emilia had half the temptation to tell him that that was precisely why she had let him call her by the wrong name in such confidence. "I might have died of shame on those steps, could you imagine? I'd hate to have that on my headstone."
Oh, the tragedy, Emilia snorted inwardly, not that he could hear her. Let him try to carry on this conversation without her participation. She was putting in more effort to ignore him, trying to get through this as fast as possible, annoyed that he wasn't even trying to at least look as if he was working as she put away the second shelf of organised papers and textbooks, stretching up to move onto the third and moving just as quick.
"You don't need to be putting in so much work you know," he said, lying back lazily with his stretched out arms behind him holding his body up, legs crossed over one another with the pile of manuscripts laying in between the empty circle of his legs. She wasn't working hard for McGonagall, she just wanted out of here, away from him. Her teeth were gritted and she turned a page, putting it away and turning to the next. Please, just be quiet, Emilia pleaded but knew it was of no use. "These have already been sorted by people before, Minnie probably just wants us to inhale a bunch of dust as punishment."
That familiar flame licked the inside of her chest, the same as the one that had reared its ugly head during Transfiguration when she had lost control and exploded in front of the entire class; this time she would have more control, she just needed to ignore him, to pretend he didn't exist and just keep working, next page, next book, next shelf –
She flipped over a piece of paper and suddenly there was something biting into her finger, a sharp sudden pain as the edge of the page slid along her index digit and slicing it open, shallow but cutting enough that blood began to sprout instantaneously. A ragged breath was pulled in as she dropped what she held, wincing at the pain that cut her nerves, watching the blood gather and spill down her finger, holding it up and gripping her wrist with the other hand as her face began to knot together to hide the pain she was feeling but it was no use.
Shit, shit, shit, she couldn't help but curse, clenching her jaw and thinking that was far too much blood for such a thin cut.
In front of her, Sirius was pulled in by her gasp of pain and pulled a face at the blood rushing down her fingers, hand reaching out as if he meant to do something, to offer help but Emilia pulled away, wrapping the cut in the black material of her robe and applying pressure, wincing at the pain. "Whoa, careful there. Maybe this is deadlier than I – "
Her voice was quiet as she spoke. "Will you shut up?"
He obviously had not been expecting to hear her say that, let alone speak to begin with as a surprised look washed over his face. "What?"
Whipping her head up, Emilia's face turned into something of fire and fury, the ember of her irritation fanned and turning into something like anger as she struggled to keep her voice level and calm so as to not alert McGonagall; the last thing she needed was to resort to shouting and then being handed yet another detention. Her jaw was clenched, breathing sharp and cutting and mincing her words into something that she hoped would leave Sirius Black hurt.
"Will you please shut up for the love of God? I don't care what you have to say, I don't care. It's your fault that this has happened in the first place."
He frowned, looking down at where her finger was wrapped up. "I'm not the one who gave you a papercut."
"You know what I mean!" Emilia hissed, keeping her voice low and chancing a glance behind her, relieved to see that McGonagall had not yet decided to see what all the noise and fuss was about; she turned back to Sirius, eyes unkind and feeling frustrated – frustrated at him, at herself, at everything. What happened to her plan of ignoring him? He just had a way of getting under her skin, and maybe it was her own fault for letting him annoy her and rile her up so easily. There was a taste of venom in her tone, dripping from her words, exasperation at the whole ordeal seeping in.
How did she go from being happily a nobody, to suddenly being thrown into a small cupboard with Sirius Black for a few hours? Not to mention the fact he was actively trying to talk to her, which she might not have minded were it not for the fact he annoyed her.
She could feel that bitterness bubbling up, a tightness in her throat as she tried to not let her emotions get the better of her. "I've never gotten detention or been in trouble before! I told you to leave me alone, and you just won't listen, why can't you just leave me alone?"
"I guess you could say I'm not good at following instructions," he sighed, giving a lift of his shoulder. "Well, it's not something you could say because it is quite true."
"God, I don't care. Is this payback? Is that what this is?" Emilia spat at him, getting a confused look in return for her words. "Get me in trouble because I wouldn't accept your lousy, half-arsed apology?"
"It wasn't half-arsed!" Sirius defended, hand over his chest and appearing offended that she would accuse him of ever doing such a thing – even though that was exactly what he did. "I've never been more honest in my entire life."
Emilia unwrapped the cut, seeing the imprints of her robes sketched into her skin and wincing at the pink swelling around the shallow cut, the blood not as quick to flood the surface. It was something small, nothing serious but, shit, were papercuts sore. He was infuriating and Emilia wondered if she even had the energy to keep up this confrontational front. "Can you take this seriously?"
That grin that always left boys and girls alike weak at knees found itself onto his mouth again, a mischievous glint glimmering in his eyes and appearing like stolen stars underneath the light overhead. "I'm always Sir – "
"See? You don't even try. That's why I didn't accept your apology. You didn't even try to apologise to me after everything; the first thing you did after you publicly humiliated me was to make some excuse," Emilia snapped, not at all willing to put up with his jokes at a time like this and he quickly shut his mouth and wiped the look off his face once realising that Emilia wasn't in the mood to put up with his humour at that moment, then again when was she ever willing to do that? There was that crushing pressure in her chest as she tried sort through her thoughts and emotions to put them into words and it was hard, hard for her to understand let alone try to get him to know as well. "It didn't even... matter to you that I was embarrassed and that everyone would be laughing at me. You... you didn't even bother to know my name."
Emilia was half surprised that McGonagall hadn't burst through the door to tell them to shut up but the door being closed kept their voices from leaking out and being caught by her, the level on which they spoke low enough that they could get away with getting into even more trouble but neither of them said anything after Emilia's own voice trailed off, words falling off the tip of her tongue and drifting away from nothing.
They held a stare, something casting itself onto Sirius' features, marring his normally cheerful, boyish looks and Emilia felt like dragging her words back into her again, to shove them down back into the depths of her chest and letting them wither and die.
She turned her eyes down once more, unable to keep level with Sirius' silver eyes and ignoring the sting on her finger that was slowly slipping away on her. Her voice was shaky, wobbling and she hated herself for it, because she didn't want to appear weak and upset but the problem was that she was just that. "I shouldn't have expected any better from someone who sees everything as one big joke."
"I don't see it as a joke," Sirius spoke up and she peered at him from under her downcast eyes, eyelashes crowding her vision as she saw him scratch at his neck, eyes turned down to the ground and looking not uncomfortable but... uncertain, as if these were steps down a path he did not know. "I... I understand that what I did hurt your feelings and made you feel embarrassed."
A shaky breath to steady herself and finally feeling as if she was getting though to him on some degree, Emilia gave a cough to clear herself of the slimy frog that was leaping in her throat. Emilia wasn't entirely great at confrontation, not on this level – yelling and shouting she could do, but earnestly trying to figure someone out and having to reveal all that was within her as well? That left her feeling shaken, upset, teary eyes and cheeks red. "If you get that, then why are you continuing to annoy me and badger me when I clearly don't want anything to do with you?"
"I mean... I guess I thought that if I did that you would... forgive me somehow. See me as being something other than a total git."
"That's it? That's what it takes?" Emilia questioned, pursing her lips and wondering if he was being heartfelt and honest in his declaration that he didn't want to appear an arse to Emilia. Whatever, she thought, as long as it gets him off my back. Giving a shrug of her shoulders, Emilia straightened her back where she sat, ignoring the ache that had nestled itself in her muscles from being hunched over and sitting on the cold, unforgiving harsh stone of the ground beneath her. This entire situation was far too ridiculous for her to even try to understand and she just wanted to be left alone, to go back to her books, to go back to working by herself, eating by herself and definitely sitting by herself in class. "Fine, I forgive you. Now piss off and leave me alone."
"And you're having a go at me for not being sincere?" Sirius tutted, shaking his head in mock disappointment, leaving Emilia feeling entirely irritated. "That was even less sincere than I was being, which was very, by the way."
"What?" she scoffed in disbelief, unsure if he was joking or not but the look on face confirmed her worries that he was being all too entirely serious about what he was saying. She floundered for a minute, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "So, you won't accept me accepting your apology?"
"Precisely," Sirius grinned with a nod of his head, the soft crown of his curls following the movement, the curtain he had tucked behind his ears slipping like water over the lip of a jar. Under the glow of the light, his hair seemed like ink, dripping and dark and reflecting back the shine of the light while taking in none of its warmth. "Now I get why you were being such a tight arse about me being honest with my apology."
Emilia was becoming exasperated, turning to face him head on and not backing down as their eyes met, the silver in his eyes unreadable, much like the grey clouds that often hung over Britain and left you wondering if it was going to start raining at any second. Emilia chewed on her words for a moment, tired of this entire conversation, argument or whatever the Hell it was that was going on at that moment, wondering if she should just let it wither up and die but there was a curiosity lingering beneath, and she wanted to know.
Why was it so important to him about how she thought about him?
Before yesterday, when she ended up slapping him across the face, he had no idea she existed, he didn't even know her name and that had stung.
"Why does it matter to you if I'm earnest or not about accepting your apology?" Emilia asked.
Sirius didn't respond to her and the stare between them lingered on as long as the silence that cloaked the both of them, hanging over them like the light that was casting long, strange shadows over his handsome face, making dark bags smear themselves under his eyes and making him look more tired, his irises no longer a bright, full moon silver but something tired, storming that left Emilia half thinking lightening might strike.
Then, a look flickered overs his face, briefly touching his features in a gentle moment that might have been in Emilia's head were she to blink but her eyes picked it apart – there, the sincerity she thought him not to be capable of, blanketing itself on the crease of his brow, the curve of his eyes, tugging at his lips.
For all her hobby of people watching, she had never seen him like this, it almost made her uncomfortable to witness it, as if she shouldn't be here to see Sirius drop that playboy façade that masked him. "I don't want for you to just forgive me to leave you alone. I want you to forgive me because... you see me as a good person who made a stupid mistake. Several stupid mistakes. That... I'm worthy of your forgiveness."
Well.
Emilia hadn't been expecting that.
Emilia was the first to look away, dropping her eyes to the sliver of red on the pad of her index finger, a long, thin ribbon that curved around the bone as the stinging subsided, the bubbles of red ichor not as fat or rushing to the surface as they had when the skin first broke. Once again, she messily wiped it against the black material of her robes, smearing it and trying to wrap her head around Sirius' words; was that all? He didn't want her to think of his as a bad person? She didn't necessarily hate him, not in the way that she thought she had - she just held no love or even fondness for him in her heart.
But Emilia knew he wasn't a bad person, not in the way that constituted that definition; he didn't call her mudblood, he didn't put rodents in her shoes or bed, he didn't laugh at her like all the others had at breakfast the previous morning even if the shock of the slap had left him incapacitated to do so. She did not hold him in high regards, but he wasn't a bad person.
Yet, she couldn't deny she was still reeling from the hurt of being embarrassed because of him, at having people laugh at her because of him, to have gotten in trouble and be forced to go through her first ever detention because of him.
No, Emilia didn't hate Sirius. But she certainly didn't like him. He was right in the sense her forgiveness hadn't been true, hadn't been in earnest because she didn't forgive him and, God, she thought she was being a bit of a drama queen but she was only seventeen and a teenager and she was publicly humiliated and at that moment, only the world collapsing in on herself could make her feel better about the entire situation.
A breath built up in her chest, bleeding out of her nose as something akin to maybe a shaky laugh left her lips before she spoke, looking up once again with an amused look on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Fat chance."
"Alright, your choice. I have absolutely no control over my actions, by the way," he told her before shifting closer to Emilia and the girl had no room to try and shuffle away as her wide eyes took in the way he pulled himself closer to her to the point their knees were firmly pressed against one another and he had that grin again, all white teeth and glittering, silver eyes. There, in the left side of his cheek, was a small dimple that was barely discernible digging itself into the surface of his skin, and he leaned in close enough that she could see soft freckles on his nose. He smelt of wood, of fresh air, grass and the faint scent of some cologne she couldn't name. "Guess I'm going to just have to sit right here and talk your inner conscience into forgiving me."
Emilia pulled back, trying to gain some distance between them but he followed her as if pulled on a rope, keeping the same amount of space between them. A wispy lock of hair was kissing his temple and his eyes were curved and Emilia thought it fitted him better than the frown he had been wearing earlier. He was close, too closer for her liking and she wanted nothing more than to ask him to push back if she knew he would listen to her.
Before Emilia could give a response that was somewhere along the lines of that's definitely not how forgiveness works, a shrill voice called out to them, making the two of them jump and nearly bumped heads against one another. "Ms. Greene, Mr. Black, I do hope you're working hard in there."
"Of course, Minnie!" Sirius called back before Emilia had the chance, tossing Emilia a wink that she returned with a stone look on her face. "I never have a moment for slacking off, working hard as always!"
As she continued turning the pages, sorting through the ancient books and manuscripts, Emilia wondered if there would be any way she could die by way of papercut to get herself out of this very unforeseen and very unexpected situation.
song of choice while writing: all eyes on me by bo burnham
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