last words of a shooting star

by toniestark

Emilia Greene could have gone the remainder of her last year at Hogwarts with Sirius Black having no idea she even existed until he managed to publicly humiliate her in front of the whole school. In her defense, she thought he deserved more than the slap she gave him.

32. chapter thirty-one

i do not own any characters or places unless stated otherwise.

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chapter thirty-one.

The day Emilia had been dreading had finally arrived.

It had been settling uncomfortably in her stomach and growing with each passing day, unknowingly counting it down in her mind as she woke up every morning and as it drew near, she was forced to start packing more and more of her clothes away in order to prepare for being sent home for an entire two weeks. At first, she had tried convincing herself that the week left between now and then was long enough for her to not start fretting about it and that she should at least enjoy herself with what little time she had left.

And then she woke up earlier than anticipated on the morning of the train leaving for King's Cross and she had laid in her sheets, staring up at the darkened canopy with her guts in knots and she hadn't trusted herself to not vomit.

In previous years, she hadn't exactly been enthusiastic about going back to her house, but it was never met with this level of apprehension; two weeks, fourteen days, before she would be welcomed back and it felt like an eternity because how on Earth was she supposed to survive that long? Emilia tried not to let it show, tried to ignore the twist and churning within her that soured her mood and cast a gloomy expression over her as she readied herself for the journey; Marlene was finishing the last braid on her head, Mary was still snoring, Tamara Blessing was silently packing her things away and Yvonne was already out of the room.

Marina was gone too, making herself scarce before the sun had risen. Not that Emilia spent too long trying to wonder about her disappearance.

Logically, Emilia knew that time was linear and two weeks were nothing and it would all pass as soon as it had come to be but still it could not give her comfort that she tried ticking herself into believing; two whole weeks spent alone when not with her neighbour, Mrs. Halabi. Two whole weeks in an empty house that bounced back the echo of any movement she made in it. Two whole weeks of complete silence. Two whole weeks without Sirius.

She was being ridiculous, honestly; something must be wrong with her, maybe she was nearing her time of the month and that's why she had a dark cloud swirling about her head and was overreacting as much as she was. It wasn't as if they were going to cease all forms of contact with one another over the holidays as she had given him her address so that he could write to her just as he promised he said he would. And Emilia knew that Sirius would keep to his word and she held no shadow of doubt regarding it. Sirius would write to her and she believed him.

It should have been enough to ease her discomfort.

It wasn't.

She was a fool if she tried to say that she wouldn't miss him because of course she would; they had rarely spent a day apart from one another since September and these last few months had seen to them taking any free moment that made itself available by the scruff of the neck even if it meant sharing only a brief few seconds together, relishing in it if that was all that was allotted to them. It was routine, it was normal, and she had become so used to it that the prospect of not having that… it made her skin itch, made her palms sweat because that was the way it was and now this whole nonsense of going back for the holidays was breaking that.

Two weeks without seeing him or hearing his voice, it did not appeal to her in the slightest. She was going to miss it, miss him, and it was more than she anticipated. More than she could deal with.

Coming back from the holidays and returning to school were always the most difficult periods for Emilia to adjust to but this time was proving itself to be especially heinous to deal with. She tried blaming it on the fact she was being wistful about this being her last Christmas at Hogwarts, that it no longer held any of the magic it used to have, not that it ever did before.

But that wasn't the truth. She was never a good liar, even to herself.

Two weeks without being to see Sirius, to be around him, to talk to him, to touch him - it struck her sharply, a knife's edge twisting in her chest the more she ruminated on it; how could she already miss someone who wasn't even gone? Sirius was most likely still in his bed, fast asleep, and unaware that he was wasting precious time before the train arrived. He was only a few metres away, and she would eventually see him with her own eyes soon enough on the platform as they waited, so why was she already dreading his absence?

Emilia rubbed the heel of her palm against her chest, hoping to smooth out the tangles knotting behind the cage of her ribs that refused to lessen even despite her best efforts; she was being unreasonable, but simple recognition was not enough to rid the emotion as it continued to afflict her to the best of its abilities. The balming prospect of his letters was not enough to soothe her anxiety just as a single drop of water was not enough to quench a dying thirst. It pierced straight through her and nothing she did helped to shed the pain that was as dull as it was deadly in her heart.

Emilia grit her teeth, biting harshly on her tongue in the hopes of dispelling the grim countenance that had sunk its fangs into her as she knew dwelling on it was not going to help her case; she was being over dramatic, that's all it was. Two weeks was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and she had spent long enough without Sirius before September had happened.

But that was a lifetime ago and she was a different person then.

The longer she waited about, the worse her vein of thinking would become and she would become so dour that she would risk missing the train back to King's Cross; staying in Hogwarts without Sirius was an even worse possibility because she would be tormented by his absence at every turn and corner. With great reluctance, Emilia hauled herself to her feet, luggage in hand and trudged her way out of the dorm as Marina tossed her a quick goodbye and a grin, Mary completely dead to the world as her snore was all that she gave in parting to Emilia.

She half wondered if she should wait for Sirius in the Common Room, but the arrival time was ticking ever closer and she feared about the train leaving without her, and then where would she be? He might already be on the platform waiting for her, though she could not be so sure; he had failed to mention anything the previous day and so dedicated she was to not thinking about the fact they were fated to parted soon that Emilia refused to even let the question cross her mind.

It was a double-edged knife that stabbed her relentlessly; the more she tried not to think about it, the more she did and in turn tried not to do so, an endless cycle she was caught in that could not be broken. Each thought propelled forward by the previous of how she was being ridiculous, it was only two weeks, but two weeks was so long, was he going to miss her, was he going to write to her often, was he going to think about her as much as she was sure she was going to think about him - all swirling within Emilia and making whatever joy this time of the year should bring decay within her.

The brisk winter air was unkind as Emilia waited at the platform, endlessly searching for the familiar figure of Sirius, washing over the huddled bodies of students that clumped together to ease off the cold; her hands were buried in the pockets of her jacket, scarf bundled high as she worried about his absence. Where was he? Had he slept in? Why was he not here? She should have waited, even if it meant risking not being on the train by the time it left the platform.

She had half a mind to send a frustrated kick in the direction of her bag in retaliation for her forgetfulness, glowering at the ground when she heard a shout, an ache in her neck as she turned to see Sirius running towards the platform, dressed in black save for the puddle of gold and red draped around him and she couldn't even prevent the grin that spilled across her face at the sight of him. Relief ebbed throughout as he drew near, a flush in his cheeks that she was not sure was a result of the cold or because of his rush to make it on time. Either way, it graced his face, bleeding across his skin like pink petals and she doubted he would ever appreciate it if she called him beautiful even if it was nothing but the truth.

He was wheezing, heaving for air as he all but stumbled to a stop before her, throwing his case down on the ground without much thought for the contents within, hands on his knees, doubled over to catch his breath that continued to run away from him. Some Quidditch player he was. Like she had room to judge when she knew making her way up to the Gryffindor Tower often left her huffing and puffing.

"Here you are," he said, and stood straight, raking his hands through his hair to push it back from his eyes and Emilia watched as small dustfalls of snow filtered through the strands and, in her pockets, her fingers twitched with a memory of doing it before for him, how she had felt the strands against her skin. It would be sure to haunt her. "I was wondering if you were still in the dorms, I thought I was going to be late if I waited any longer for you. I didn't know you were already here."

"You waited for me?" she asked, eyebrows darting up her forehead in surprise; had the both of them just assumed the other was waiting for them? She reached up to tug at the scarf around her mouth to stop it from being muffled, slipping it beneath her jaw as Sirius kicked his luggage upright, burying his hands deep into his coat as he drew his body near to her; it made sense to do so, everyone else was doing the same so it wasn't odd. Their feet knocked together, his boots nearly stepping on her converse as their arms pressed together and still it didn't feel enough. "I thought you were already on the platform, that's why I'm here. I didn't know you were waiting for me, Sirius."

She didn't mention how she was fretting all the while, cursing at herself for not asking him the day before about it all. It wasn't important, anyhow.

They were both here now, and Sirius was dressed in darkness, cutting a striking figure against the pale world that winter had seeped of colour; upon his head, a gathering crown of snowflakes piled together, glittering in the molten light of the trapped sun and Emilia had to temper the urge to reach up and shake him free of its burden. Would he care all that much? She wished she could ask, wished she could know what was too much, what was too far, too much.

But it all shrivelled up within her, firmly locked in the depths of her chest because she knew asking such things was strange.

"Woke up a bit late, so had to leg it all the way here. Might end up coughing up a lung, but I'm here now and that's all that matters," Sirius explained, his teeth chattering as he sniffled, reaching up to wrap his scarf tighter around himself, his ears tipped with pink and seeing him like this, it plucked at her heart and she had to bite fiercely down on her tongue so as to not remark just how cute he looked. "Waking up this early is never worth it. Not even the train is worth it. Why couldn't they have picked a more reasonable time for us to go home? I want to go back to bed."

Emilia stretched her numbing fingers in her pockets, blood freezing the longer they stood out in the cold and she slipped them free, bringing them together and rubbing her palms up against one another, hoping the friction might help to ease the nip of the sharp air sinking its fangs into her.

And also, she hoped keeping her hands occupied might deter the urge to reach up and brush through Sirius' inky black strands.

Always so selfish, wanting to take and take what was not hers to have.

"You'll be glad for it when you're back in your own bed sooner rather than later."

His own bed, away from Hogwarts.

Her own bed, tucked away in that big empty house.

Complete with a single bed, and a shabby wardrobe that would have been too small for anyone but her, everything that she was had been packed neatly into the small space that was her bedroom. Bare walls, the cream colour not at all what a child's bedroom should be; once, she had stuck a Casablanca poster up on it before she realised the thin paint was being peeled away and her aunt would have thrown a fit had she seen it. When she had pulled the poster away, it had taken some of the dull beige with it, revealing only a few speckles of a soft pink colour that was hidden beneath.

She couldn't remember a time when the room was ever that colour, so bereft of any sort of life since her time staying in it. The room remained completely stripped since then, empty of anything that might have reminded her aunt of a child living in it. It was enough - a roof, a bed, her own space that she could hide within during the summer.

She wondered what Sirius' bedroom was like; was he messy? Was he neat? Did he plaster the space with all those rock bands he liked? Were his sheets always a tangle, did he simply kick his clothes beneath the bed? Was his bedside table complete with paraphernalia of junk and mugs and things he didn't bother to file away?

Sirius drew nearer to her, like he wanted to fall down on top of her, akin to two birds sharing a twig branch and trying to keep warm against the relentless winter that wanted to knock them down. Her fingers felt no warmer clasped together than they did when she had them buried in her pockets, huffing her breath over them but no fire would start. With Sirius standing over her, he bore the brunt of gentle snowfall that was too weak to stick to the ground.

"It can't come soon enough. I feel like I'm going to turn into ice the longer I stand here. Do they not care about the health of their own students? It's like they want us to freeze to death on purpose, honestly," he griped, putting on a show of a shiver tearing through his body and she had half a mind to click her tongue at him that he needed to dress warmer, that his jacket was hardly enough to fight back against the briskness that was given free reign on the platform. He tried to mimic her moving hands, breathing over them to no avail, the pale skin dipped in rouge, warm air bleeding through his lips curling into a silver mist that disappeared. It was a mistake to not wear gloves. Sirius gave up, eyeing her for a moment before his hands broke apart and reached across and she had no time before she felt his palms cover both of hers, keeping them together in prayer. "Here, give me your hands. It's better to share body heat to keep away the cold."

Emilia felt grateful for the scarf that hid the splatters of warmth that rushed across her skin, ignoring the flutter and stutter of her heart as Sirius encased her hands with his, trapping them but she could hardly be considered a prisoner as no one would gladly enjoy the feel of their own cage. His skin didn't exude the heat it normally did, but it was much better than any of her attempts to return life to her icy limbs, feeling it pour throughout her.

"I'm already colder than you, Sirius, I don't think that you're going to get any warmer by holding mine."

So hypocritical and trying to save face for no other reason but her own dignity because it was the natural response he would have expected; that's how it always was with her - pretending she didn't want it, pretending she didn't want the feel of his hands against her, his body pressed to hers until there was not a single piece of them that could be considered to belong only to them. Sirius was not the least surprised by her lacklustre protests, letting them rush over his head like water over a rock from how used he was to them.

Maybe he already knew by now that she never meant them, even if it would kill her to ever admit that to him.

How mortifying it would be to even say the words that she wished for nothing more than to feel him touching her.

"It's basic science, Emilia. You should know it better than me," he said and she had no idea where he got that impression from. Maths and science were never her strong suit even at her old primary school, and she still struggled with her times table to this day; Emilia could only be helpless and compliant to his ministrations as he tried to make the ice within her flee, the heat of her body gathering in her face. "I learned this when I watched a documentary over the summer about penguins and how they survive in the cold. You know they keep together to stay warm? They also mate for life apparently. Don't know how that works since they all look the same so who's to say they can even tell each other apart."

She didn't know that, and she didn't really care for fun facts about penguins, not when Sirius was being far too casual as he leaned down over their laced hands and she felt the wave of his breath beneath the cuff of her jacket, sticking to her skin and promising to stay forever. Her throat felt too tight and how her voice managed to wriggle out of it, she'd never know. "Since when have you ever been interested in science?"

"What do you mean? I've always loved biology."

"Really? You do? I never knew that before, how is that?" she asked with genuine curiosity and his eyes flickered up to her, trapped beneath his lashes from where he continued to breathe over her skin and she could spy the curve of a grin cutting across his mouth, a slight waggle of his brows letting her know that this was not merely an academic topic of conversation, prompting her to roll her eyes. "Of course that's what you mean. I can't believe I thought for a second you could be capable of having an educated conversation without thinking about it in that way."

"I'm able to have many educated conversations, I just don't want to because they're always boring," Sirius shrugged before standing up with his spine straight, tossing his hair back with a flick of his head, hands too occupied to do so themselves as his fingers wrapped around her, the grip tight and searching for the result of his efforts. "Do you feel any warmer?"

If she felt any warmer above the neck, her scarf was going to burst into flames and he would be glad to melt the ice on his bones because of her.

"Just a bit. I should have worn gloves, but I forgot to take them out of my trunk. It doesn't feel like I might lose any fingers any time soon," Emilia admitted, mouth far too dry and the air cutting through her, painful as it pooled in her lungs and Sirius frowned, unsatisfied at his failures before he adjusted her in his palms, Emilia's arms following him limply before he pried them apart, each split between him and then promptly stuffed them into his pockets, tucking them in tightly to the space; he had done it before, during their trip to Hogsmeade and he was sure not to let them suffer alone as his own hands delved in after hers, taking each to clutch them tightly but the angle was awkward, unkind on her as she tried to wriggle but Sirius did not relent, denying her any movement. "Wait, my wrists, don't do it like that."

"Why? Is it not comfortable?" he asked, as though the idea had not come to his mind. Emilia attempted to twist her hands around but found no give in the tight pockets. Instead Sirius had to tug at her, stepping impossibly closer and eased the ache of her bones, fingers splayed out against her skin. "Any better?"

No, it was not better because she could smell the scent of his familiar cologne, the earthy, musk of it as it pooled in her lungs and Emilia nearly sent herself into a fit of coughing as she realised she might have been purposely been trying to suck in a larger gulp of air into her chest because of it.

How mortifying - what was wrong with her?

Emilia dropped her eyes, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. "A bit. I would prefer not to have early onset arthritis, please."

Sirius gave a hum, showing no indications that he had noticed her off putting behaviour. "You don't have to worry about that. Well, you won't if this bloody train decides to show up soon."

"Patience is a virtue," she chided and Sirius scoffed.

"If I had any, I would spend time trying to find who ever came up with that saying, hunt them down, and strangle them with my bare hands," he grumbled and Emilia risked peering up at him, unable to deny herself a glimpse of him for any longer than was physically possible. She didn't mind so much that the train was not here; it simply meant that they had more time together, that she could continue to feel his hands wrapped around hers, that she would not have to go an entire two weeks without him at her side.

He didn't seem to share the same sentiment.

"You're really grumpy in the morning sometimes."

"They never serve coffee at breakfast, I miss it," he sighed and Emilia hadn't known he was a coffee drinker. As if he was someone who needed any more caffeine in his body. "When is the damn train coming?"

"How should I know? I don't control the railways, I know as much as you do. I swear, sometimes you're like a little kid. It'll come at the time we were told it would come," Emilia muttered, and silently hoped Sirius could not feel how clammy her palm was, how her fingers twitched around his that he had confined to the pockets of his jacket. There was little space in the material, pressing the connection of their bodies impossibly close to one another and Emilia could feel the whisper of his pulse fluttering beneath his wrist. Every dent and callus of his skin scratched over her, printing itself into memory and Emilia diverted her attention elsewhere, overwhelmed with too many thoughts surrounding the feel of his hands wrapped around hers. "Where are the others? How come you came down alone?"

"James has to go off with the Head Boys and Girls and Prefects so he was already gone by the time I woke up. Remus and Peter are always late. They were sleeping last I left them," he replied nonchalantly, not the least bit worried about whether or not his friends would make it in time from the castle and down to the platform in order to be on the train for when it would depart.

"You didn't even wake them?" She didn't mean for it to come out as a chastising remark but it must have been as Sirius shot her a disbelieving glance, shaking his head and letting loose a few, unwanted snowflakes that were too weak to hold onto the strands of his hair.

"You try and wake Remus from sleeping, then get back to me on that. The man is scarier than a hippogriff, at times. If you can get him to wake up, you'll forever earn my respect," he shot back.

"Not a morning person, I assume." As if this morning was anything to be delighted about being out in; the threads of dread sewing itself into a heavy stone in her stomach became all that more pronounced as Emilia shifted on her feet, a stiffness in her fingers that remained trapped within Sirius' jacket and his hands and she tried not to bring too much attention to it all, half fearing he might remember what it was he was holding on to and might toss it away. Not even the sensation of a part of her being cradled by him could rid her of the ever present trepidation. "I relate to that."

"I can tell. Your hair usually looks as though you've spent the entire night tossing and turning some mornings. Not to mention, I've had to stop you from falling into your own breakfast more than once before. I've saved you from certain death by drowning in porridge more times than I can count on both hands," Sirius pointed out and her brows furrowed together at the comment; she hadn't realised it was something he had made a note of as she usually tried to not make it known just how much of unsettled deep sleeper she was, her hair taking the form of a rat's nest when she woke up. Had he really noticed that? What about now? Had she combed through her hair enough that morning for it to not be evident?

"What? My hair isn't that messy," she said, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips as she resisted the urge to wriggle a hand loose so that she could try and smooth the strands down in fear that he might be right and she looked ridiculous.

Why had he never said it to her before? Not that she would have appreciated it anyways.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he teased and she gritted her teeth, trying not to let the bubbling concoction of self-consciousness boil over into her voice. Was her hair truly that unkempt? She could remember growing up and how there were days, if not weeks, she would go without running a brush through the strands, leaving it an untameable mat until it was completely unsavegable and the teachers had told her that her appearance was entirely inappropriate for school. She could feel the itch of unkind scissors at her neck, a faded memory of her mother forcing her down on the ground between her legs and hacking through the mess until it was completely gone, prickling her ears as ashes of her mother's cigarette fell down onto her bare legs. Emilia swallowed thickly, forcing herself to find footing in reality as Sirius' fingers idly moved against her skin, tracing unseen and unknown patterns that she feared would never leave her. "We'll have to be fast and get on quick to have a cabin to ourselves when the train comes. I'm not sharing with a bunch of Third Years again."

Emilia had spent every single year forced to share with other students, forced into the corner of the seat and burying her nose into her book, trying to block out the noises and loud chatter that grated her nerves.

"You poor man, what horrors you must have suffered through. My heart bleeds for you," Emilia said, the blunt sarcasm oozing from her words and Sirius' eyes captured her, reeling her in as he leaned in close to her, pushing against the distance and making it bend to his will until he was so near to her that she could just about see the reflection of herself in the silver of his eyes.

"So long it's only for me that it bleeds," he responded and Emilia's stomach twisted uncomfortably because he was far too near, shadow encompassing her and everything about Sirius was bleeding into her system, fearing he would be able to notice the dark shades of scarlet her cheeks had adorned. She was always indecisive, always unsure if she wanted him further away from her or nearer, each bringing its own agonising effects. A sudden screech tore through the frozen silence and Emilia jumped, whipping around to see a familiar bellow of steam trailing through the sky and the Hogwarts Express began to crawl up the length of the tracks, a collective sigh of relief escaping all who were shivering in their wait. "There it is, finally. It's about damn time it showed up."

"Told you to be patient. You should listen to me more often, it might do you some good," Emilia reminded though that stone slotting itself into the space of her ribs didn't exactly bring her any ease. The trains halted with a shriek and gave a cough of its engine, cutting a striking black shadow against the grey clouds and she wriggled her hands out from Sirius' pockets, an air of reluctance lingering as she did so and Sirius' fingers attempted to fight her on her way out, eventually conceding victory to her.

"Yeah, well, I wish it came sooner so that certain parts of my body hadn't jumped back up into my stomach," he said and Emilia tried not to pull a face at his comment. She definitely did not want to think about anything of the sort about him, not at this time in the morning. Other students began to swarm the train, congestion making it difficult as Emilia bent to scoop her luggage up, Sirius doing the same but as she made way to move closer, she felt his hand scramble for her free one, snatching it and denying freedom as he stepped out in front of her, acting as a knife as he began to cut through the crowd. "Here, come on, let's move fast. If I spend any longer out here, I'll turn into an ice sculpture."

No one said anything to him as Sirius pushed through the front of the line, everyone was either too busy hauling their luggage that was packed with far too many things for a two week stay at home, some even tossing him a hello and have a good Christmas, Sirius.

None of it was directed at her, though she expected no less.

They forced their way to the train door and Sirius was first on board, hauling his case up onto the step before pulling his own body up, keeping his hand wrapped tightly around her own and Emilia was about to follow along when he swung back around and bent to grab onto the handle of her luggage, pushing aside her own grip on it but Emilia battled him on it. "I got it, Sirius. I managed to get myself and my bags on and off this train for seven years before you, I can do it by myself."

"Just let me do this, Emilia. It won't kill you to let me help you," he responded, not giving in and Emilia's fingers had begun to become icy enough that he was able to pry her grasp away and pull the case up, and then swivelled around once more, reaching out to take her palm in his and helped her onto the carriage; Emilia bit her tongue, knowing that it was a battle she would not win because, for whatever reason, he was being stubborn with her on this. She tried not to stumble against the force he was pulling her at, finally out of the brisk air and swaddled by the warm cocoon of the Hogwarts Express, stopping short of knocking into Sirius who grinned with glee as he steadied her. "See? Now, was that so hard?"

She restrained herself from rolling her eyes as she tugged at her scarf, worming one of her hands free but keeping the other firmly clasped in his. "Just keep walking until we find a seat."

Sirius did as commanded, grasping her hand tightly in his as they began to weave their way through the hall of the train, pressed tight to the walls in order to prevent a crash of bodies. Others were attempting to find a free space to have to themselves, piling into empty cabins and slamming the doors shut. Emilia recalled how awkward it used to be having to stick her head in and hope that someone would take pity on her and allow her the edge of a seat to sit against until the train rolled into the station.

This time, there was none of that to worry about.

Sirius moved with determination, long legs picking up the pace Emilia was forced to match and he spied a set of open doors, hauling Emilia with him but she glimpsed a gaggle of Third Year Hufflepuffs who had the same goal in mind to occupy the dwindling free places on the train.

"Quick, in, in, in!" Sirius urged her, yanking her along and all but bundling her inside the cabin without a care of her falling into it, throwing his luggage in and fast to occupy the space before he slammed shut the doors on the faces of three young children, their excitement crumpling immediately at realising their failure, before Emilia spied who two of the girls flushed a deep red as Sirius grinned at them. She didn't blame them; Sirius was one of those people who could make anyone blush without even trying. Then, he held a hand up to stick out his middle finger at them, taunting them through the glass. "Ha! Try next time, pricks! This is our cabin, you're not allowed in! Piss off and find somewhere else to sit!"

Emilia stood straight and used her hand to send a smack flying into his arm, shooting an apologetic glance towards the younger students who didn't seem at all incensed by the fact they had been flipped off by Sirius, scuttling away in a huddle of whispers. "Sirius! They were, like, twelve!"

Sirius shrugged, leaning to make sure that they had truly disappeared before turning around, picking up his forgotten case and scooping it up, balancing it on his shoulder. "They're younger and have more stamina than we do so it's their fault if they weren't fast enough."

"We're hardly geriatric age."

"I don't know about that. I think my hip is about to pop out at any moment if I move too quickly. I swear, I can't get out of the bed some mornings because my back is aching or if the mattress is too soft," he said and turned, propping his luggage up with ease on the racks overhead.

Emilia could not stop the way her eyes washed over his stretched form, how it was able to reach the height with ease and ever so briefly did she notice a flash of skin peering out from where his shirt lifted above the band of his jeans. The sliver of pale skin peeked out and Emilia's gaze stuck to it, unable to look away as Sirius shoved his case to the back of the rack lest it tumble out and crack open their skulls due to the bumps of the train. Her throat seized up and feeling nothing short of being completely horrified, she immediately turned away but was denied when Sirius reached down to yank her own trunk from her grip. "Here, give me your case, I'll put it up for you."

Oh, absolutely not, she did not want to be caught staring if that happened again and Emilia tugged at the handle, refusing to relent. "I can manage just fine on my own."

"Yeah, that's not happening. I don't fancy missing the train back because you fell off trying to get up on the seat to put it up by yourself and then have you fall, break your neck, and I'll have to carry you all the way back to the castle to Madam Pomfrey," he retorted and she frowned at him, once more ready to remind him that no such thing had ever occurred in the seven years she had been taking the train without his help but Sirius was fast to snatch her case from her grip, wasting no time to place it in the space beside his own and her eyes once more -

Stop it.

Emilia snapped her gaze away and sat down into the seat against the window, fiddling with her scarf that itched at her skin as she tore it from around her neck, attributing the rising warmth in her face to it. Sirius fell back into the seat, unwinding the length of his own gold and red scarf from around him and tossing it aside without much care as he relaxed. The snow clinging to his hair had already begun to melt, sparkling in the pale fingers of the sunlight.

"Great, now that that's sorted, we can finally relax. Moony and Wormtail should hopefully be along at any moment. That is if they've managed to wake up on time."

Emilia kept her eyes trained on the fogged up window, watching drops of condensation dribble down the glass as Sirius lazed back, not caring for any sense of propriety as his legs ate up the space, spread out wide and the soles of his boot pressed to the underside of her seat, trapping her between them. One swift kick upwards and she was sure he would have been on the ground whimpering. "Maybe we should have waited for them."

"And, what, miss the train ourselves and end up stuck at Hogwarts for the break? Absolutely not. No way I want to spend my New Year's with Dumbledore of all people," he snorted and stretched his arms over his head, and once more, his shirt inched its way up, a slice of pale skin on display against the dark wash of his clothes and Emilia was sure he was doing it on purpose, trying to draw attention to the exposure that she had never witnessed before and couldn't deny her curiosity of. She refused him any victory as her eyes remained firmly latched onto his own. "They're big boys, they can manage themselves. They don't need me to be looking after them, I can barely look after myself at times. I could end up putting them in a worse situation if I tried."

She wondered how any of that was true since he had been living by himself for over a year by this point and once more, Emilia tried to temper her growing, uncontrollable need to know what kind of home Sirius had made for himself. She might have had a mind to ask but was distracted when Sirius swung his boots up onto the seat, pressed right against her thigh and she scowled at him. "Don't put your feet up, that's rude."

Sirius raised a brow at her admonishment. "Should I do this instead?"

Before she could react, he was swift to place his feet onto her lap and grinned wickedly.

"Sirius, stop it! You'll dirty my clothes!" she exclaimed, wrenching herself free and patting down her legs to prevent any scuff or dirt marks on the material and he once more tried to rest himself in her lap, forcing Emilia to shove him away again, shooting him a heated glower. Prick. "I don't know why I'm even friends with you. You're so horrible, you know that? Completely unbearable."

"Only took you this long to notice?"

Emilia huffed, arms over her chest as she watched him with a sharp eye, ready to bat him away again if he tried once more but, by some saving grace, he kept himself firmly planted on the ground, knocking against her ankles. The rumble of chatter filtered through the doors and Emilia never knew that sharing a cabin with someone could be so peaceful. "Give me back my address, I don't want you to write to me over Christmas anymore."

It was an empty threat, one she knew Sirius didn't believe in the slightest as he gave a bark of laughter, sitting up and rifling through his jeans' pocket before producing a familiar piece of paper that Emilia had given to him a while back; it was still cleanly pressed, the only creases being where she herself had folded it in half and then in fourths and Sirius jumped across to steal the spot beside her, jostling her as he pressed himself tight to the side of her body.

"Oh, you mean this one? This address? The one that you gave me? The one that I have in my hand and definitely don't have memorised so even if you try and get it, it won't matter?" Sirius taunted and opened it up, her neat writing on display and her hand tried to retrieve it from his possession only to grab at air as he was quick to hold it up over his head. She hated it when he did that, and he seemed to only do it more now that he knew it was the only way to win against her whenever she wanted to take something from him. The smile on his face was wolfish, eyes curved in a manner of amusement that did not falter as Emilia scowled at him; he even tried shaking it over her head, trying to entice her into making another attempt that would only end in failure. "I promise that you can have it if you can get it from me. Come on, I know you want to. At least give it a try."

It took everything within her to not childishly pout but it evidently was not enough. "Forget it. I just won't write back to you then."

"Aw, don't pout like that, Emilia, you know that it breaks my heart to see you like that," Sirius said as he once more folded the note back to its original form, carefully tucking it back into his front jeans' pocket and patting it firmly in place. His hand crept up and Emilia didn't even bother to swat him away as his thumb and finger grabbed a hold of her cheek, pinching it softly as though she were nothing more than some silly child saying silly things. "I know you will, don't even try and lie to me saying that you won't. Otherwise, you wouldn't have given me your address in the first place."

He knew her too well.

"Shut up." Emilia whipped her head away, diverting her attention once more to the window and pretending to take a great interest in the deadened landscape that was eaten up by frost outside. She could spy Sirius' reflection, the haze unable to hide his face from her as the ghostly specter smiled even wider at knowing she had been cornered and was unwilling, or unable, to deny his words.

"Admit it, you'll miss me over the holidays," he continued on and when she refused to bend to him, his body leaned over hers, eating up what little distance existed between the two of them and he forced himself into her line of vision, though Emilia couldn't even say it to herself the view was better before. His hair spilled over his shoulder, dark tendrils that were still adorned with melted flakes from outside that shimmered and his hand forced itself between the wall of the cabin and her leg, caught between her thighs; try as she might, Emilia knew that even putting on a false air of irritation would fall flat and her heart nearly choked her from how it lurched from her chest. "I know you'll miss me, I can tell. It's all over your face. Don't deny the truth. I bet you'll cry yourself to sleep because I'm not there to hold you. You'll miss me so much that you'll be begging for me to write to you every single moment of every single day."

Begging was such a strong word. Wishing felt more apt.

"Maybe I will. Maybe I won't," she said, pursing her lips but it tasted like a lie. If she told him it was true, if she told him that she felt like she couldn't eat or move without fighting the nauseous sensation wracking her body at the possibility of spending two entire weeks without him, Emilia was sure he would laugh, make a joke along the lines of I know, I have that effect on people and she would swallow her own tongue before that happened. "I might enjoy the peace and silence for the next two weeks without even thinking about you for a single second."

Another lie. It was becoming a habit. She wasn't a very good liar.

Sirius didn't believe her, she didn't even believe herself, and he clicked his tongue, his arm up against her shoulder and there was nowhere to escape from even if she wanted to. He had her firmly trapped between the wall and his body, squeezing up beside her like he wanted nothing more than to merge their molecules and become one with each other.

"Bullshit. You'll be begging for me to be around you by tomorrow and you'll be wishing that I was there. I might even half a mind to come and visit you some time," he stated aloud and Emilia's stomach dropped.

Sirius visit her? Him and her alone in that big townhouse of her aunt and uncle?

Her chest threatened to cave in on her lungs as a bitter tasted swarmed her mouth; she wondered how she would explain it all to him, explain the echo that threw back any small noise she made, the bare walls devoid of any pictures, the endless rows of wine bottles lining the cabinets in the kitchen, the vast emptiness that lacked the hearth every home should have.

It would be awkward, different.

Going back home reminded Emilia that Hogwarts was nothing more than a temporary break from the truth of everything; none of this was real, it was child's play, pretend, and she would crawl her way back to reality soon enough. Once in that space once more, Emilia would again realise that all that change occurring within her was never truly permanent and she would be who she always was once reminded. It made her shift in her seat, the side of her thighs rubbing up against Sirius' and she ceased it immediately, not wanting to start a fire in the cabin.

"Visit me? Why would you do that? That's - you shouldn't, it's not the best idea, Sirius," she explained despite it all. He blinked, surprised by the denial and a stone wormed its way up her neck, stuck there as her voice attempted to squeeze past. Her hands wrung themselves together, trying to sort out her thoughts so that they were more comprehensible. "I live in a muggle neighbourhood. You can't just Apparate in and out as you please. If anyone noticed you, then we'd be in big trouble. Trouble that we can't risk."

"I can if I do it real quiet and don't get caught. They won't even notice me. Or I could get the bus, do it the muggle way so no one would think anything different of me being there. We could find a way, I would make sure to find a way," he insisted but Emilia's lips pressed together, brows furrowed because she didn't want to relent, didn't want to risk it. She tried not to imagine it, tried not to imagine what it would be like having Sirius in the room she slept in that was far too small for even a young child, stifling in the summer and freezing in the winter, taking note of what little she had because he didn't understand she had less before and she never took for granted what she had been given since it could always be worse. She hesitated and Sirius' face softened. "You really don't want me to visit you?"

That wasn't it.

He had no idea that now he had put the thought into her head and it was growing roots and as much as she wished to oblige to his request, she couldn't; if her aunt ever discovered Emilia had ever brought someone over and exposed them to their private life, to her private life, who was to say she wouldn't be chucked out? She was almost 18, and there was no obligation on the part of her aunt and uncle to house her anymore once that milestone was met.

Not to mention, if Sirius ever stepped foot in that house, Emilia knew what he would begin to think about it all and didn't want that. No more secrets, they had promised, but this was different - she wanted to keep pretending, to keep that part of her life separate because it wouldn't matter soon enough.

Emilia shook her head. "I would love it if you did visit, Sirius. Of course I would. But it's not the best idea, unfortunately."

Sirius lapsed into silence, eyes darting about her features as though trying to find a crack in her armour that he could pry apart but there would be no yielding to him this time, no matter how difficult it was.

"Fine. I get it. Alright, I won't try and visit you. I'll just have to be happy with writing to you, then. I suppose you want to spend time with your mum over the Christmas after being stuck with me for so long," Sirius sighed and his words pierced straight through Emilia, looking at him with first confusion over his statement before the thawed ice in her veins cracked, driving through her flesh as Sirius leaned back into his seat, angling himself towards her and completely unaware of what he had just said.

Her mum? Why would he say that?

Her mum was dead and buried and another skeleton in that wardrobe she was still trapped within and Emilia could hear the wet gurgles spilling from her mum's dying form as she lay on the ground; there was no chance of escaping from a ghost that plagued her because she was trapped with the memory of it as it tried to drag her down into its own grave and she had never told him.

She had never told him about it; she had never spoken to Sirius about the broken down council estate house, about the stench of alcohol that invaded every gulp of air her little lungs tried to grasp, about the endless stream of shadowed men who warped the fading image of her father, green eyes to blue to brown to nothing because maybe he never even really existed. Emilia had never told Sirius of the wardrobe, of sitting in her own filth for four brutal days with stabbing starvation gripping at her, of the encompassing darkness that smothered her, the weight of its existence wanting to crush her own out until it was nothing but she was nothing, did nothing as her mother laid there on the ground, dying, dead, and then no more.

How had she never told him? They had said no more secrets, but she had forgotten. Forgot because that's all she could do because thinking about it made it linger and the memory of her mother should have died out long ago but she never did and Emilia still carried the burden of her existence within her. She was over it, stepping over the memory as easily as she would have her own mother's grave, if there even was one, and had simply… forgotten.

Her mum. Probably only bones by this point, probably not even a feast for maggots any more. Her mum. Sometimes, Emilia could find her presence when her aunt got too drunk on a deluge of wine. Her mum. At times, peering out at Emilia through the mirror and she often turned away because it was better to forget then to remember once her mother was her age and had a life to live until Emilia's existence came along to deny her a future that could have been hers.

"My mum?" Emilia echoed, staring at Sirius because they had said no more secrets and she was already breaking such a promise, anxiety needling its way to her heart and he didn't know because she never told him and how could she when Emilia refused to acknowledge the life she had stolen from someone by forcing her own on them? Had she even told him about her aunt and her uncle, how they endured in their hatred that burned brightly enough that they refused to be the first one to break and instead decided to suffer together even if it made them carry their own misery around in their hearts?

Had she failed to mention it? Or had she done it on purpose? Would he be angry if she told him that she didn't mean to? It was the truth this time, but would he be mad at her as he had been when he found out about Marina calling her mudblood? They said no more secrets, so why would this be any different?

Oh, God, what was she to do? Could she spring it on him now? Tell him everything in such a short amount of time? She had to, because they weren't supposed to keep these things from each other and she had to be a better friend, she needed to prove that she was capable of change and that she had meant every single word she had whispered to him in that storage room.

But Emilia had never talked about it to a single soul. Not even her aunt ever acknowledged the truth that was her sister's brief existence in this world before it was wiped away, save for the occasional biting remark that Emilia looked just like her mum. Her mother didn't exist save to serve as a haunting reminder that Emilia could never dig up her own roots, could never hide the truth of where she came from. After ten years of keeping it all within, how could she let it out? How could she -

It didn't matter because the door snapped open with a rattle and in poured a panting Remus and a beetroot faced Peter, sweating and gasping for air as they piled in, slamming the glass and wooden panes shut behind them and slumping into the row across from Sirius and Emilia. They both looked as though the clothes had been thrown on them in a haphazard way, Remus' shirt half tucked in and his hair a mess. Peter was sweaty, cheeks a deep scarlet colour and wearing odd socks as he fell back into his seat.

Emilia's mouth wired shut, swallowing all she was ready to vomit out of her as Sirius tutted at his two friends.

"Well, it's about bloody time you both showed up. I thought I was going to have to throw myself on the tracks to stop the train from leaving," he said to the two other boys, the epitome of a disapproving mother. Emilia shot him a disbelieving glance at his words; it was her idea to wait for them and here he was trying to take the credit for it all.

Peter wiped his forehead, groaning as he sat straight into the seat, jabbing a thumb to a fatigued Remus. "Remus couldn't find his wand."

"Where have I heard that before?" Sirius muttered and Remus attempted to send a flying kick to Sirius' shin, missing by a few inches as Sirius moved away, pressing further into Emilia to escape the punishment.

"Shut up. We're here now, that's all that matters," Remus grumbled as he slumped back into his seat, pulling his jacket tight around himself and he looked exhausted. That's just how Remus usually was, Emilia noted, and despite trying not to, she found herself keeping track of it. The smears of blue and purple that hung beneath his eyes, the pale pallor of his skin that left him in a perpetual state of looking sickly - only for a few days, never the same week, but it was a trend, a cycle he was stuck in. She never asked him about it. He probably was sick of people always asking him if he was okay.

"Sirius was ready to leave without you," Emilia announced to the two boys and Sirius whipped his head around to her, a sense of shallow betrayal about him.

"Emilia!"

"So much for loyalty, Padfoot." Remus spoke through closed eyes and didn't seem all that surprised by the revelation about his friend.

Peter caught his breath, swiping a sleeved wrist over his forehead and pushing back the sweaty strands of his fringe from his face, shaking his head all the while. "Can't trust him as far as you can throw him."

"You've only been here for two minutes and you're already turning her against me," Sirius grumbled at the two of them, eyeing them both sharply as though they would be the source of Emilia's betrayal. "Aren't you supposed to be with the Prefects?"

"I am, but I'd much rather be here and make you miserable," Remus responded and there was a tired smile leaking across his mouth, peering through half-closed eyes at Sirius with a knowing look - though what it was about, Emilia was not allowed in on. Remus then turned his attention to her, an air of amusement hanging around him. "It's just so easy to rile him up sometimes."

"It is," she agreed. Rile Sirius up about what, she couldn't tell. And Remus was not eager to tell her.

"How could you say that?" Sirius asked, offended by her change in loyalties. If Emilia was right, he looked as though he was about to pout. As if.

"I'm very easily influenced, sorry."

"You're not the least bit sorry. But it's okay, I forgive you for all your flaws," he sighed and Emilia's gaze narrowed at his poor choice of words.

"Flaws? Plural? I didn't realise I had any," she said and Sirius didn't even seem the least bit put off by the edge to her words as he grinned, sidling up to her and, oh, that bastard just knew how to play her.

"Not to me you don't."

She shoved him away, not wanting to give Sirius any sort of wriggle room in her irritation towards him that he could escape from. Not that Sirius cared, instantly moving back to press the side of his body up against her like a moth drawn to a candle, magnetic to the point of being happily bound by nature.

"Do you have any plans for the holidays, Emilia?" came Peter's sudden query and Emilia was glad for the distraction handed to her, smiling at the boy sitting across from her and the redness in his round face had calmed down a bit, no longer panting for breath. She was glad that he was no longer trying to lend evidence to her theory that he was ignoring her.

"No, nothing special really. I'll also visit my neighbour. She doesn't celebrate Christmas, but she likes to have me over whenever I get back from school," she explained and at least she had a silver lining to this whole ordeal of being away from school and from Sirius for two weeks. No doubt Mrs. Halabi was already cooking up a storm in her kitchen in preparation for Emilia's arrival. Beside her, Sirius had taken to idly fidgeting with the cuff of her jacket, picking at the loose threads snared free from their lining. "What about you?"

"Sleep. Constant sleep," Remus grumbled, eyes kept close as he leaned his head back against the seat and from here, Emilia could spy the pinkened line of a deep scar that curved beneath his jaw.

"And eating. My mum and nan go crazy for baking over the Christmas. Every year, Mum tries to make me bring back at least three puddings," Peter said and Sirius gave a soft gasp, perking up at the information but not releasing his hand from Emilia's wrist, pausing in his fiddling of her clothes.

"Please bring them, I would kill for one of your mum's Christmas puddings."

Peter shook his head, glowering at him accusingly. "You know she still hasn't forgiven you for turning our cat blue."

"That was ages ago!"

"It was last year, and Mum still swears the cat is still growing blue hairs to this day because of it."

"It wouldn't have happened if the little bastard didn't scratch me with its claws then," Sirius spat.

"They do say animals have a sixth sense and can tell good people apart from the bad people," Emilia told him and he scoffed, rolling his eyes back and his head went along with the action until his cheek found her shoulder, peering up at her through his lashes and she was squashed between him and the wall of the train. Not that she minded so much. She knew she would hate herself tomorrow if she didn't enjoy it now.

"Well, my sixth sense is I can tell bad cats from good cats and that cat was ready to kill me in my sleep. She's evil, I'm telling you."

An aghast sound escaped Peter. "Princess Kitty isn't evil!"

"I saw the way she was eyeing up my boots, don't make excuses for her," Sirius threw back, a darkened cloud in the grey of his eyes as though recalling the memory perfectly.

Emilia shook her head and she could feel the barely there tickle of his hair that brushed up against her skin because of the action. For some reason, she found it growing increasingly more difficult to not simply press herself down onto the crown of his head, to rest against him as easily as he was doing to her. "She's a cat, Sirius. She could hardly have it out for you."

Sirius' eyes darted up to her, displeased. "You have to be on my side on this, Emilia, don't let them manipulate you."

A chortle escaped Remus, who was drawn from his attempts of a sleep by the conversation, pushing his mop-like fringe from his green eyes and staring pointedly at Sirius. "So typical that you hate cats. I don't think you could be any more stereotypical."

Emilia's brows twitched in confusion at the statement; she didn't know why it was considered not strange for Sirius to hate cats, or what about him could be designated as stereotypical in his loathing for the animals. Sometimes, even as she spent more and more time around Sirius and his friends, they spoke in these odd riddles with one another but she was no fool to think she had any right to ask for clarification. She was an outlier at times, and not privy to the inner machinations of the group that she had all but invaded and had her existence thrust upon.

Sirius snorted, jutting his chin over at Peter and nearly knocking his skull into Emilia's jaw from where he was resting against her shoulder. "If anything, I'm more surprised that Peter doesn't. He's the one who ought to be terrified of the little demon."

There it was again. Maybe Peter was just someone who believed in superstitions and the bad luck of animals, not that Emilia would ever know. Peter placed a hand over his head, moving his head in enthusiastic denial. "She would never hurt me, she knows I love her and I know she would never do anything to hurt me."

"See? This is why you need to start talking to real girls, not animals, Wormy, " Sirius retorted and Peter's cheeks bled scarlet in odd patches at Sirius' words.

"I talk to real girls!" Peter insisted, though a sidewards glance from Remus and a quirk of Sirius' brow discredited his claim.

"Oh, yeah? Like who?" Sirius prodded and Peter's face grew a darker shade of red, as though caught out on something and immediately his eyes were latched onto Emilia.

"Emilia is a girl," Peter said and all eyes were on her, like all them were suddenly reminded by the truth of his assertion. To be fair to Peter, he had been the first one of the group she had ever spoken to, long before Sirius pushed himself without care into her life; the first time she had ever spoken to him in Third Year during Care of Magical Creatures, she had been left once more without anyone to pair up with and had quietly asked him if they could work together, to which he agreed. That was how it was until the end of Fifth Year, both of them side by side during pair work in class. She never spoke a lot to him, but Peter at that time didn't seem to care that she could barely get a word out from how nervous and inept at conversation she was.

As she was about to side with Peter, Sirius sat up straight, the weight of his head no longer burdening the edge of her shoulder and shook his head immediately, waving aside Peter's words. "She doesn't count."

Something jagged stuck itself into her chest as Emilia looked at Sirius with a bewildered expression, half doubting that it was him that said that but she had seen his lips move and his voice carry it and did he really just say she didn't count as a girl? What did that even mean? She all but spluttered, reeling from it all. "Excuse me?"

A low hiss escaped Remus as his features shed previous humour to take the form of something more apologetic. "You want a shovel for that grave you're digging there, mate?"

An air of confusion descended down upon Sirius as his attention darted to Remus, to Emilia, and then for it all to click as her frown grew deeper and deeper upon the corner of her lips, his eyes widening as though only just realising what it was that he had said. "I didn't mean it in that way."

How could he not mean it that way? Something uncomfortable began to sift through Emilia, settling in her belly and churning. "What way did you mean it then? How do I not count as a girl?"

"You do! You are!" Sirius exclaimed, looking at a loss for words as he stammered. "I meant it in the way that it's because you're… Because you're not…"

"I'm not what?" her voice was veering on the side of being sharp as Sirius became more and more incapable of properly speaking and it only made her mood darken even more.

Sirius quickly turned to his friends opposite, desperate. "Remus, mate, help me out here."

"No thanks, I'm quite comfortable watching this from the sidelines."

"Peter, come on, you know what I meant," Sirius entreated but Peter gave a halfhearted lift of his shoulders, all too pleased to not lend aid to his friend just as Remus had.

"Do I? I'm not sure that I do. Only thing I know is that you meant it in the way that Emilia isn't a girl even though I said she was."

Emilia's eyes sharpened on Sirius as he floundered, unable to comprehend whatever was going through his mind into comprehensible speech; did Sirius not see her as a girl? How could he not see her for what she was? Perhaps she should have been glad that he wasn't limited by old world views like the stupid belief that boys and girls could never be friends, but… did he really not see her as a girl? Or even as a woman, since that's what she almost was now? Her mood darkened as she thought about it because if he didn't see her as a girl, what did he see her as? What else could she possibly be to him?

Emilia didn't like this strange feeling coursing through her; not a girl, he didn't see her as a girl. But she was and she was his friend too, but she wanted him to see her as such. And it didn't feel the least bit right to have that desire.

"How come I don't count as a girl, Sirius?" she pressed on further and Sirius groaned, cursing under his breath, hands rubbing over his face as he tried to find a way to dig himself out of this hole he had found himself in. Seeing him squirm as such was a bit amusing, she had to admit. Then, he perked up, snapping his fingers and grinning a bit.

"Because… you're a friend! And Peter obviously doesn't see you in that way and I meant for him to talk to girls he's actually interested in," Sirius said and turned to Peter who had once been enjoying the scene playing out before him but was now being dragged right back into it, looking a little paler at Sirius' attempts to drag Peter right down into the trenches with him. "Right, Wormtail?"

For a moment, Peter didn't say anything, and Emilia could see the way he swallowed thickly, an inaudible gulp as he cast his gaze downwards to his lap. "Right."

"Lickarse," Remus accused and Peter appeared to not take so kindly to the condemnation, a frigid sharpness about him.

"I'm not," Peter hissed but Remus grinned, muttering in Peter's ear about something that Emilia was not allowed to be a part of but it did not matter because Sirius, now feeling brave, was once more leaning up against her, garnering her attention and he really did make it difficult to stay annoyed at him, especially when peering at her with those damned silver-grey eyes, pulling him in like the frenzied tides of the Atlantic Ocean from which there was no escape.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Sirius said. Emilia forced herself to turn away, giving a huff of exasperation because as much as she enjoyed watching him shift uncomfortably beneath her gaze, she knew her dark mood wouldn't last long if he kept staring at her like that.

"I don't know what you meant to say it as."

"Oh, come on, you're not really cross with me, are you?" Sirius teased but she refused to relent, scowling out the window with her arms over her chest, watching the world pass by through the slick condensation clinging to the glass. She felt his fingers poke at her arm, at her legs, trying to get her to give him the attention he craved. "Emilia, look at me please…"

"Stop. I'm too busy being mad at you," she chided, smacking his hand away when he reached up to tug at her ear and he moved his hand away, sulking.

"Women and their grudges."

"Well, I guess you have nothing to worry about then because I'm not a woman apparently," she shot back, unable to help herself as Sirius cursed once more.

"You are, and don't be mad at me. It's Christmas."

"It's December 20th."

"It's Christmas week, don't be mad at me," he pleaded and she had to clench her jaw shut, mouth pressed tightly together so as to not let him know just how difficult he was making it to be mad at him, even though she could hardly constitute it as anger. "I know you're not really mad at me."

"Just like how you think I'm not really a girl?"

"Oh for - Emilia," Sirius whined and this time she was unable to catch the smile spilling across her lips at his reaction.

"You're a man, disappointment is to be expected," she sighed and he was staring at her with such reverence, begging for a pardon and to be forgiven like only she could give him the absolution he craved in life.

"So forgive me this once?" Sirius asked in a soft tone even though he must have known by that point he was already absolved and he had worn her down, willpower ground to dust by the intensity of his gaze.

"Just this once."

"I only said it because Peter doesn't really have a lot of success with girls and you're the first proper friend that's also a girl that he's made. I wouldn't want him to get any ideas or think about you in that kind of way. He'd know better than to get any ideas about you if he didn't want me to deal with," Sirius murmured to her and she felt her irritation pull away ever so slightly to give way to confusion that flickered within her.

"What kind of ideas?" she asked and he mirrored her expression, as though not understanding how she didn't know the hidden meaning to his words.

"The kind of ideas that teenage boys have towards girls. That's why you need to be careful of them," he clarified and, oh, that's what he meant.

It was usual as they got older, usual for boys and for girls and the most she ever experienced was when she had seen James Dean in a showing of Rebel Without a Cause and had been unable to think about anything else for a week straight. That's just what it was like becoming a teenager and wondering things like that about people and she had heard enough whispered discussions about it all in the girls' dorms. And Emilia had wondered about it too, of course she had; just because her opportunities were scarce to the point of not even existing, didn't mean she hadn't thought about it.

"You're a teenage boy, too," Emilia pointed out with a narrowed gaze, desperately trying not to crumple under the weight of his gaze and how the silver of his irises were like granite against the pale, cold glow of the sun leaking in through the window behind her. The dull, stretching fingers of light fractured the colour, making it appear shadowed and with a depth that mimicked the lake. Just as she had jumped in weeks ago, Emilia felt like she was still trapped and drowning for entirely different reasons. "Does that also mean you have those kinds of thoughts?"

"No, I only think about good things and would never dirty my mind with such impure things," Sirius responded with a flat tone before he gave a short laugh. "What do you think? Of course I do."

Emilia couldn't even deny she was surprised by it.

It was normal, that much she knew. Thinking those sorts of those, thinking it about different people - Hell, she had spent so many years with other girls in the dorm that eventually she had to block it all out with a pillow so that she could sleep without being plagued by their in depth discussions and fascinations with boys and girls and everyone else they thought were good-looking.

It was constant but… How could she imagine something she didn't really know? The most she had ever been exposed to were written on the pages of those trashy romance books she had read in secret, most of which she had learned from when she snooped around the house during Easter of Fifth Year and found her aunt's stash of trashy novels and magazines that went too in depth about everything a woman needed to know about sex and everything that came with it.

But none of that was real. It was all fictional and idealised and exaggerated and Emilia was no idiot to think that was how it actually happened in real life, even if she could also recognise what she knew was little to nothing. Basic biology she understood that much, but outside of it? Sirius had once jokingly called her a prude and he hadn't been wrong even though she wasn't one out of her own volition. What little she knew was either because of a primary school level of science or embellished writings of it. Just because she didn't know much about sex, didn't mean she wasn't curious about it.

Seventeen years of age and she barely understood what went on with her own body half the time beyond bleeding once a month and even when that had happened the first time, she thought she was dying.

Talk about an embarrassing conversation with Madam Pomfrey.

Emilia stared at Sirius, pondering his words carefully. Was it any different for boys? She had no way of knowing; Sirius never spoke about those things with her even if she was curious, and Emilia highly doubted he would be eager to talk to her about it at all if she dared to ask.

Boys were strange like that, Sirius especially. He hadn't liked it when he found out she knew more than she would have liked about him regarding all of that. And Emilia did not want to start thinking about anything to do with Sirius in that vein of thinking. She had heard the other girls talk about him when she wasn't trying to block her ears from it though the meaning of most of it remained a mystery to her; she had heard them giggle before about him before, talking about how handsome he is, how pretty his smile is, how he's such a good kisser, he's so good, I honestly didn't think I was going to be able to walk or sit down for the rest of the day from how hard he made me cum.

Her heart lurched at the recollection, feeling mortified that she was remembering such a thing about him without his knowledge as he sat in front of her.

"Really? You do? So are you saying that I need to also be careful around you?" Emilia said and delighted in the shock that washed over Sirius' face, the playful expression dripping away and his eyes fluttered, reeling from the unexpected toll that her words had on him. She watched how Sirius' mouth parted and something akin to a gasp tore through the gap, his gaze trained on her, latching onto her own and then twitching downwards ever so briefly before returning once more.

She had thought it was a funny joke.

But Sirius wasn't laughing.

She liked it better when he laughed. Maybe she shouldn't have said it to begin with.

"I…" he trailed off, voice stolen from him by an unseen force and Emilia had never seen him rendered speechless like this, especially not by her. Whatever humour either of them might have possessed slipped away and Emilia didn't understand why it was her attempts at making jokes often fell flat. Maybe making jokes just wasn't her forte.

She turned away, pressing her lips together and giving a shrug. "Oh wait, I forgot. I'm not a girl so I don't have to worry about any of that."

Though she didn't see it, Emilia knew the groan was sourced from Sirius and she ever so briefly glanced over to see him falling further into his seat, rubbing his hands over his face in an effort to hide whatever it was that might have flickered across his features. Perhaps her joke was funny and he was being petty by pretending he didn't find it amusing.

"Bloody hell, you're killing me here." Sirius' voice was muffled behind his hands before they fell away to cross over his chest, fingers grasping the material of his shirt roughly, nearly tearing the threads apart.

"I hope you know I am never going to forget this ever, and I will throw this back in your face forever."

"I wouldn't expect any less of you," he grumbled, looking ready to pout at being reminded by his previous words and had Emilia been any more childish than she already was, she might have stuck her tongue out at him. Sirius sat grim for a moment, arms over his chest and glowering at his knees and once more Emilia was left floundering; was what she said wrong? She thought they were joking, just as they always were.

Sirius' jokes weren't funny sometimes, not because she didn't understand them, but simply because… she hated it when he made jokes about her, when he teased her about how he thought she was pretty, or that only she was in sole possession of his heart. They left a bitter taste crawling up from her chest, staining the humour and tainting whatever quick witted retort she could throw back in his face, but she always laughed regardless because it was only a joke and that was who Sirius was.

Making jokes about things she didn't like because part of her wished they were true; wished that they were true in the manner they were not lies, and true… true because it was what Sirius believed. To not have it be some playful prank, but something borne by sincerity.

And that same edge she was ever balancing upon, unable to truly hate it all because his words were ever so sweet and honeyed, pouring warmth into her chest and spilling throughout her. Her discomfort due to simply never having experienced it before, unsure of what the appropriate response was to it all. If she blushed too much or smiled too wide, would Sirius become uncomfortable? Would he notice how her air of disdain for his little jokes was all too shallow? If he did, would it all cease then? Did she want it to stop so she wouldn't deal with this dreadful agony piercing her, or did she want it all to continue because of how much she craved hearing him say such gentle things about her, regardless if they were true or not?

Emilia could never decide.

She barely noticed Sirius glancing at her from the corner of his eyes and his arms stretched up over his head, forcing a pop of his bones and before she could react, he was once more pressed up beside her in a way that was no longer unfamiliar to her; Emilia had enough time to gather herself back together again before his weight shifted, kicking his legs up on the seat to spread them across the space and he flopped onto his back and she was frozen completely as he shuffled downwards before the weight of his head settled itself atop of her thighs, the strands of his hair spilling across her lap, staining her with hues of ink that glittered in the light, catching on him like trapped starlight.

Her breath stuttered and halted to a complete stop within her lungs as Sirius adjusted himself to this entirely new and foreign position, neck curved around the edge of her leg and the heat he exuded was enough to scorch her flesh despite the pants she wore. Her hand was half trapped beneath his shoulder, the other hidden beside her hip and fingers instantly curled into a fist, nails unkind against her palm as a bewildered expression floated about her features, blinking and unable to even ask him just what was he doing.

Sirius had never done this before, he had never been so bold and brave to do something like this and Emilia's heart was lodged like a stone in the back of her mouth, swelling to the point air refused to squeeze past it as she stared down at him, blinking erratically as her brain attempted to consolidate her thoughts that ran wild and incoherent within her.

Sirius, his head was in her lap, his hair leaving no inch of her untouched and she could only gape at the sight of him below her, completely casual and nonchalant about the action that was ripping out the thread holding her together, ripping her apart at the seams until she was left with nothing; air had been torn from her grasp and her muscles were turned to stone, tongue tied and all too aware of the weight of him, the feel of him, and she swatted away the lament of not wearing skirt that morning.

What was she to do?

His eyes were firmly shut, unable to see the way everything bursting in her mind was spreading fast across the surface of her face, twisting and warping, bleeding pink across her cheeks as her hands curled ever inwards, not sure of what they might do if she gave them independence to act on their wishes.

What should she do? Should she react? Should she say something?

It all ran wild within her, unable to settle on the right choice if there was one.

It wasn't as if they hadn't been this close before.

None of this should be new; how many times had their hands been entwined with one another? How many times had she felt his fingers against her skin? Countless and, hopefully, with no limit.

And yet, it was like everything about Sirius was made to steal the very air from her and push it back into her with a sweetness when he was around; it was as though Sirius was designed with the sole purpose of making Emilia become undone. Each time he touched her, it only made her so aware of how little she lacked for all of her life and now was a beggar, desperate for more.

Did he know? Did he know that the burn he left behind never truly went away? He was breathing to life something Emilia thought dead within her and rose up within her, vengeful and spiteful in its yearning and it was so abnormal in its nature that it made her frightened.

She tried to temper it, to keep it confined, but he was unknowingly feeding it, letting it fester in her mind as she grew too weak to fight against her own imagination and wonder; endlessly she thought of his hair running through her fingers, the feel of his cheeks against her palms, the stream of his breath down her back beneath her collar. She couldn't even push down the desires she had in wanting to brush her fingers over the sharp line of his nose, across his jaw, pressing the pads to his eyelids, all of it wreaking havoc inside of her.

And now, Sirius in her lap with his eyes closed was sure to be another thing to haunt her.

Emilia clawed in a breath, telling herself that this was normal for them. Touching, holding, drawing so close to one another that the space between them was near to nonexistent.

This was just who Sirius was. It didn't mean anything else beyond that.

She was building mountains out of nothing and she was overthinking too much on it.

"Sirius, what are you doing?"

He did not open his eyes and Emilia was grateful for it because part of her worried that if he saw the look that was on her face, he would decide to tear himself away and she would be left cold with his absence once more. "What does it look like I'm doing? A juggling act? I'm going to sleep, obviously. I'm still wrecked from waking up early, I need a nap. So don't move."

Sleep? He wanted to sleep? Here? On her?

Emilia's cheeks felt unbearably hot, she was sure she more resembled ripe cherries instead of a girl. Only once she had ever seen him sleep and that was when he had been confined to the bed in the infirmary back in October, but it had been unintentional of her to see such a vulnerable part of Sirius in that light; now he wanted her to witness it firsthand?

Emilia's hand caught beneath his shoulder snaked out beneath its prison, ignoring how sweaty it felt as her body shifted, trying to adjust to this strange new weight that was on top of her.

Deep within her, a part she was finding increasingly harder to ignore, Emilia hoped he would allow her more time to get used to it instead of this becoming another phantom feeling she would chase after to experience in even pale imitations that appeared in her dreams. "Why do you have to sleep on me? I'm not your personal pillow."

"Yes, you are. You're much more comfortable than any pillow. Now, stop wriggling so much otherwise I won't be able to sleep," he chided her, and immediately Emilia ceased all movement in fear he might decide she was too uncomfortable to lay upon, hands now free but unsure of what to do with them as they hovered in the air, trying to occupy herself with fiddling with her shirt that constricted her, smoothing down her hair but it was not the same. Across from them, Peter and Remus engaged in endless conversation and she considered the possibility that they were only doing so in order to not draw attention to the position Sirius had placed himself in. Without warning, his eyes peeled open and she was a prisoner, trapped. "If they start to draw cocks on my face, wake me up, won't you?"

"No," she breathed, hoping he could not hear the shake in her voice. The soft smile he gave her was enough to break Emilia's heart.

"I knew I could trust you," he said and his eyes closed once more, twisting himself so that his cheek was now pressed to her thigh and he faced towards her stomach, the angle making her unravel and fall apart because his breath was bleeding through the material of her clothes, his nose nearly against her navel if he had less shame.

Emilia's chest could barely suck in gulps of air to soothe the ache pooling in her lungs, like waves coming in to kiss the shore and leaving all too soon, and even the scent of him wasn't enough to ease the discomfort gathering beneath her heart; what was she to do? What would be the right thing to do? She should push him away, tell him to sleep on the seat and not bother her because he was like a furnace and he was going to make her legs grow numb if he slept the entire train ride on her lap. Her hands were already sore from the angle she held them at in the air, blood running away from her fingers and leaving them cold as she flexed them, desperately trying to distract her thoughts with something, anything, but Sirius.

As if he didn't occupy her mind all the time even when he wasn't there.

Emilia, despite her best efforts, studied Sirius, unable to help herself as she drank in the sight of him; his nose that was almost perfectly straight save for the only indication of a broken nose that buried itself in the bridge, his lashes that touched the space beneath his eyes in long shadows, the freckles that disappeared the longer winter remained. The sun poured over him, bathing him in light and he shone in the puddle, his hair darkening the frame of his face, inky soft curls that kissed his temple, fingers of dark twilight hues resting against his forehead and Emilia's hands twitched once, demanding freedom to act.

Her elbows creaked as her arms lowered cautiously, not trusting herself to cross some unforeseen line as they trembled closer to Sirius, waiting for him to crack his eyes open and admonish her for daring to touch him; if he could sense her hesitantly closing the gap, he gave no indication of at all.

With bated breath, Emilia's fingers first brushed against the ends of his hair, smoothing them out against the tops of her legs before inching their way upwards, throat closing up as she neared the top of his head, pressed to his crown and when he did not turn away, she grew more steady and curious in her tactile admiration; one hand delving through the strands and his hair was just as soft as she remembered, easing through it with no difficulty, mesmerised as the curls refused to be undone from their gentle spirals. Her thumb found its way to his hairline, hooking on stray wisps and guiding them backwards, exposing the flesh there lest she be denied that too.

All the while, Sirius remained committed to his promise of sleep, eyes kept firmly shut all the while Emilia's touch graced over him; with one hand in his hair, the other took to smoothing over the plain of his forehead, wondering if it tickled him or sparked an itch beneath the skin. She dared not stray too far down past his brow, electing to wander on the outskirts of his jaw but not following the line before it retreated back to join its compatriot once more, curled around the top part of his head as though to protect him from an unseen force.

She tried not to think too much about it all; tried not to think about how her legs began to tingle from trapped blood flow, or that the arm resting over his neck to curve over the back of it might lessen his breaths, or if the train moving beneath jostled him too uncomfortably.

As the seconds trickled on by, Emilia's heart leaped, abound with indiscernible and agonising pricks of deeply hidden things that stung her; it was dangerous, she realised, dangerous because now that he had done this he would make sure that she would never forget it and would always crave for its return and Emilia had never felt nor wanted so deeply in all of her life, not since Sirius Black decided to force his way into her heart and steal what little space there was in it all for himself.

Ever since that day in the storage room, it was like she could no longer keep a cork on all that she tried bottling away inside of her. She was a lost cause, unable to find a name for it that she could find safety in and could not fend off its unrelenting force as it sought to take control of every part of her. It was an inevitable crescendo that had been stoked within her, boiling her alive until no escape.

But maybe it did not need a name.

It just… was.

And whatever it was, there was no getting rid of it now. And Emilia did not wish to be rid of it, even if it pained her in her inability to understand it. Was this what it meant to care so deeply for another person? Was it because she had been so starved of it her entire life that now it was within her, she had no idea how to deal with it? It must be.

She never thought herself a vessel meant to carry emotions as deep as these, but it had been thrusted upon her and she never had a choice in the matter; it was all so new and dug deep, her inexperience worsening the weight within her chest. How could she ever put a name to something she had never felt before, for something that had never existed within her?

Her fingers were entranced in brushed through Sirius' hair, one hand resting at the nape of his neck and she spied how his own had crawled their way upwards without her notice until she felt his tickling touch over her thigh, resting close to her hip. She was grateful for his closed eyes so that he would not be able to catch a glimpse of the fluttering smile across her lips or the deepening scarlet of her flush.

"You're like a little cat. I half think you'll start purring at any moment," she whispered, not sure if he had truly fallen asleep as he warned her he might, but it appeared she had nothing to worry about as a hum left him, disgruntled by her observation.

"Don't ever compare me to such horrible creatures. I'd prefer it if you just kicked me in the balls than ever do that," Sirius murmured and Emilia tried not to pay heed to the fact she could feel the vibration of his voice in her bones, a puddle of heat across her stomach as each exhale washed over her in the same spot over and over again.

Her lips pressed together, doing little to quell the growing grin as she resisted the urge to mock him with a scratch behind the ear, wondering if he might be speaking lies and end up purring at the action. "Not a cat person, I take it?"

"After the incident with Princess Kitty? Absolutely not. I hate the little devils. They're evil, little bastards, I'm telling you. You can't trust them at all. They have it out for me for some reason when I've never done anything wrong to them," was his grumbled reply and she failed in smothering the chime of delicate laughter that escaped her, shaking her head at him, unable to stop herself from continuing the soft stroking of his hair despite knowing he was fully aware of it all. Once, she would have been sorely embarrassed at him, at herself, for acting like this in front of other people, but the shame of it all had died a quiet death so long ago.

Part of her did not wish to become accustomed to it all, afraid that at some point in the future it might be taken from her, yet at the same time she was selfish enough to not deny herself in the moment.

Sirius twisted ever so slightly and she paused briefly as he turned so that his eyes were peering straight up at her, not caring that he might have an unflattering angle of her. "Don't tell me that you're one of those cat people?"

"I don't know. I think I have potential to be an insane cat lady in about fifty years or so," she shrugged as her palm pressed firmly down on his crown, stealing the fever-like warmth that soaked into her skin. His hand atop her thigh graced upwards to wrap around the wrist she had resting against the back of his neck but did not move to pull her away from him; if anything, Emilia pondered over the chance Sirius was holding her there so as to not let her retreat if she no longer felt brazen enough.

"I can imagine it perfectly. You would make a great crazy cat lady. No, you would be the best and craziest cat lady ever," he grinned and it was the same as any other time she had seen him smile, but it tugged at the most sensitive parts of her heart to see him smiling up at her from where he was in her lap. It was like he endeavoured to discover new ways to make her note just how beautiful he was.

Emilia hummed, ruminating on the prospect of being an old woman with a sea of cats swarming her at all times which seemed more likely with each passing day. It was either that or taking the veil with the rate she was going at. "You think? It's unfortunate then that I'd have to say I'm more of a dog person."

She would have to be with the collection of corgis that her neighbour had accumulated over the years since Emilia had started going over. She was sure that there would be more added once she arrived back at the house, all jumping and clawing for a piece of her attention.

"Really? You are? That's a relief then," Sirius sighed, chest heaving high and it gushed across her through her clothes that were doing little to stem the action that fanned against her body.

"Why is that?"

"No reason in particular," he replied and refused to delve more on the matter, the corners of his mouth tugging and making him speak through a concealed smile, as though there was some joke she was not privy to knowing. He turned inwards once more, only allowing her the grace of one side of his face, eyes closing but his hand at her wrist remained in place, refusing her the chance to escape.

As if she even wanted to.

Silence blanketed them, Remus and Peter's conversation kept to a low lull between the two of them and Emilia was almost glad that they did not attempt to rope her in because she doubted she would be able to keep her attention on what to say due to the distraction of Sirius' breath growing warmer the more concentrated it was against her stomach, his fingers pressed to the thin skin where her pulse fluttered uneasily.

Her tactile investigation met no obstacles as she continued to relish in the feel of his ink black tendrils that poured through her fingers, begrudgingly noting how much softer and how silky the strands were compared to her own; what was it and boys having better hair and eyelashes than girls? It was truly wasted on them.

But not Sirius.

Everything about him bled beauty, and she couldn't even fault him for knowing it.

She grazed over his hairline, diverting to slip a lock behind his ear and she was hooked on tracing its curve, wearing a groove as her fingers travelled the length of it over and over again, lost in her own movement until she spied something odd, pausing for a moment and leaning forwards because was that -

"Sirius, is… is that a piercing?"

"What?" Sirius' voice was soft, as though he had been at the threshold of sleep and shuffled against her legs, hand following up her wrist to where she had stopped, poking and prodding the indent in his flesh over her own fingers, knocking them together. "Oh, this? It used to be. I got super drunk one night over the summer and got the great idea to stick a needle in my ear because I didn't want to waste money on a piercing appointment. I woke up with the worst headache in the world the next morning and it wasn't because of the drink."

"You stuck a needle in your ear?" It came out as a splutter as she inspected the barely there evidence of his actions, all that remained was a singular spot that dug deeper than the rest of the skin.

"I thought I was dying when I woke up because there was so much blood everywhere and I forgot to take the needle out before I went to bed," he told her and Emilia grimaced at the picture he was painting for her. The closed hole in his ear seemed so insignificant compared to what he was telling her, a roll of her stomach spurred by the thought of Sirius covered in blood. He twisted his head to gaze up at her, a thoughtful expression carved into his handsome features. "Do you think I would look good with a piercing?"

"I think you would look good with or without a piercing," she said without thinking, without even hesitating and she didn't even have the decency to feel embarrassed at admitting it to him so blatantly because a smile cut across his mouth, a display of white teeth and beaming with delight at how easily she could say such a thing. She couldn't fathom why what she said deserved such a response, but then again, she couldn't really understand much about why Sirius did what he did even after being around him for so long. Her fingers lightly pinched the skin, frowning at the puncture. "I can't believe you stuck a needle in your ear."

A soft sound escaped Sirius. "I've done worse and stupider things in my life."

"More stupid than sticking a needle through your flesh while drunk and then falling asleep with it still in?"

"What do you take me for? A sensible and reasonable person? Of course I've done stupider things than that. I'm honestly quite insulted that you would think that about me." Sirius watched her carefully from where he lay, chewing on his tongue as she eventually ceased her curiosity of the indent, returning her hand once more to lay around the nape of his neck, his own still wound tightly around her wrist. "It didn't really hurt that much, despite the blood. My tattoos hurt more."

Emilia nearly choked on her own spit as she didn't even bother trying to stop the way her mouth dropped open. "Your tattoos? As in plural? More than one?"

"You don't know?" He was confused, looking at her like her reaction was odd.

"When would I ever have had the chance to see your tattoos?" she asked, though inwardly trying to scratch to the surface any memory that might have revealed any of them but none came to mind. Emilia tried not to make it a point to openly stare at Sirius whenever any part of him was exposed lest she die of mortification should he catch her. The most she had ever seen of him lay outside the cuffs and collar of his robes, and the accidental slip when he was shoving her luggage on the racks above them.

Emilia promptly halted that line of thinking because she most certainly did not want to start imagining anything beyond the limitations his clothes gave him. It was positively weird.

He pondered the question, as though he was trying to do the same as she was but failed. "It's only a few. They're only small things. I was thinking about getting more over Christmas."

But how many was a few? Where could he have possibly hidden them? What were they?

Despite her best efforts, Emilia's gaze washed over the length of his body that was splayed out on the seat, legs too long to be laid flat on the worn crushed velvet and up to the column of his neck but could not find any hint of any of these supposed tattoos. She desperately tried to temper her own imagination, snaring them into a tightened ball so that she could throw them into the deep recesses of her mind.

She absolutely did not want to start imagining things about Sirius and his body or anything of the sort.

Still, she was a little curious. "Where are they?"

Sirius' brows jumped up his brow and he did not move for a moment and Emilia was ready to retract the question entirely until he flipped onto his back once more, head kept firmly in her lap before he reached to grab her hand that was still ensnared in his hair, dragging it down the side of his arm until it stopped a point on his bicep, palm pressed flat to her to keep it there.

"There's one there, this one I got when I left home and moved in with the Potters," he explained, rolling her hand against the clothed flesh and Emilia stared at where she was touching him, ignoring the way her mouth grew precariously dry and she had no time to even recollect herself before Sirius brought her hand over the plain of his chest, pausing at a point that mirrored the precious place that housed his heart opposite it. All that separated her from feeling the sensation of his bare skin was a thin piece of grey cotton, but she could feel the heat it exuded, his hand trapping her own down against him. "Another one here that I got last summer, this one probably was the worst to get. The guy who did it was high off his head on something or other, and I swear he nearly tried to kill me with how hard he was being with the needle on the skin."

Emilia's heart rattled in her chest as a flush crawled up her shirt, red tendrils caressing her cheeks and she knew that were it not for the pressure of Sirius' palm on her, she would have been trembling against his chest; for all their odd displays of touching, despite how many times she had been able to feel him against her, to wrap their arms around another, this was something different entirely.

Had he waited for this exact moment before they would be parted from another so that he could do this? To torment her on purpose for the next two weeks as she would be unable to rid herself of the image and the feeling of touching him so - so -

Her vein of thinking was cut cruelly as Sirius did not end her suffering before he shifted her once more to place her right at the centre point of his chest, and she could just about feel the gentle echo of his heartbeat singing out from beneath his ribs that stuck out into her palm. All the while, his eyes never wavered from her face but Emilia could not bear the weight of his gaze should she try and meet it, keeping her focus solely on her wandering hand guided by him.

"The last one I got was just before we came back to school, from right here and all the way down," Sirius said to her in a gentle whisper but did not continue his aid of her exploration, the pressure of his grip lessening and Emilia's hands twitched immediately at the brief presence of freedom.

She might have yanked her hand away if she was capable of even thinking straight at the moment.

She studied the contact, flat against him and her ears were like embers that might have set her hair alight as her fingers spread open on his sternum, the hard bone blanketed by muscle that moved beneath her as she inched her way down, waiting for the moment he might slap her away but it never came.

Bone gave way to soft flesh as Emilia pressed into the dip, trailing downwards all too slowly, lips pressed together as she tried to picture what it was that was embedded in the skin hidden from her; he had described them as small, but it definitely didn't seem as such. She could feel his stomach jump when she reached his navel and could not for the life of her find any sort of strength to go beyond that point, becoming increasingly bashful the longer he observed her in a thick silence that was smothering her. She wished he would push her away, say something stupid like she was being wicked with what she was doing, or that she was trying to steal his innocence, but Sirius' jaw was wired shut.

"Where does it stop? Is it to here?" she wondered aloud, lightly digging into the tissue of his belly. How strange it was to realise that boys had bellies too and that she was currently pressed up against Sirius', right against that spot she had accidentally witnessed earlier. Emilia hoped he would laugh at the ticklish sensation to ease the tension and have it be cut and halved.

He did not.

She was too cowardly to pull away from him, resting against the soft muscle. Emilia worried she was over thinking it and it was her that was the one making it weird, that they had touched plenty of times before. Yet, this was different, it was of a different nature that she could not comprehend and fretted over its aberration. She could pull away at any moment if she so wished, but it was as though every ounce of her willpower had withered away, as often was the case with Sirius. Something about him bred a festering selfishness inside of Emilia that was as embarrassing as it was all-consuming.

Each breath he took raised her hand along with it and the shirt he wore did little to quell the feeling of his body beneath the pads of her fingers, risking exposing skin if she tried to drag her touch back up the path it came from and she knew she would just die if that happened. If her smallest finger dared to squirm, Emilia would have been able to brush up against the band of his jeans and such a realisation was the knock back to reality she needed, ripping her hand away like she had been scorched by something.

What was wrong with her? What had come over her? He needed to say something, to make a stupid joke she would laugh at even if she didn't understand because it was killing her the way he was staring and her palms still burned with the echo of touching him, breath stuttering and tripping on its way to her lungs, failing to ease the ache pooling in them. Please say something, please stop looking at me like that, please stop it, please stop it -

"Yeah. It's the biggest one I have. Didn't hurt so much, I was pretty drunk when I got it," he eventually said, but his voice sounded gentle, thickened by the silence that delved over them and Sirius was still staring at her, watching her curiously in an attempt to gauge her reaction. Could he not see how pink she had become? Maybe he did and elected not to comment on it so that she could save the minced scraps of her dignity. He shuffled, the side of his face pressed flush to her own stomach and how was he able to withstand the feeling of her pressed to his belly when right now it felt like her skin was peeling off from bone because of him? "If you're that curious about them, I could show you, if you'd like. If that's something you'd want."

Show her? Him? Sirius show her his tattoos that were on his body? The way he said it in such a hushed and grated whisper made Emilia's chest seize up, unable to contain the swelling of her heart because she knew that if were to see them, it would mean Sirius would have to talk his shirt off and she would have to see him without any clothes and who was to say she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to feel the ink beneath her fingers? And Sirius without his shirt off - she didn't want to think it, it felt wrong to even try and imagine it - not that she was imagining it.

"What, here? You want to show me here? Now?" The surprised squeak left her and it pierced her ears because what if that is exactly what he meant? She had never seen a boy without his shirt off, not in real life anyways, and it was such a prospect that forced Emilia to reconcile the fact Sirius was more than just a friend, but a boy too, and she had absolutely no experience with boys. All her firsts beyond a boy asking her for a spare pen had been with Sirius and he would think she was a lunatic or - or he would laugh at her reaction because he was just her friend, why would she react in such a way?

It was painful to breathe and the threads of her thoughts unravelled into endless seams she could not keep together, not wanting to end up on paths from which there was no return. Boys were never her thing, mostly because they had always ignored her existence and loathed to be reminded of it, but Sirius was her friend, so it didn't count.

Not in the way that mattered, at least.

"In the presence of a Prefect who would slap me with detention for public indecency? Absolutely not, I don't want anyone questioning my innocence," he said.

"I don't think there's a single person on this planet who would ever think you were anyways innocent."

"Not even you?" He said it so sweetly and delicately and Emilia's teeth were grinding painfully over one another because one more word out of him and she would be putty in his hands.

"Just go to sleep already, please."

It was her last line of defence because if he kept at it, if he kept putting chinks in her armour and wearing her down, Emilia wasn't sure if she would be able to deny him if he offered it up again. Was it better to say yes so that she wouldn't be fighting a losing battle against her mind that refused to submit to her as she desperately tried not to think anything to do with Sirius and his body?

It was hard not to think about something that was currently trying to dominate her personal space to his own will as Sirius grinned and did as he was told. This time, when he turned on his side to sleep, she could feel the press of his nose through her clothes and to her own belly, burying himself there as his hand moved from her legs to worm its way behind her back and the seat, coming out the other side to clasp onto the flesh of her waist.

Sirius seemed quite content in tormenting her even as Emilia tasted blood on her tongue from where her teeth had settled into age old grooves.

None of this felt the same as she had experienced before; what had made him so brazen? What had made her so weak to allow him to do this? Emilia had been misguided into thinking she was becoming more resistant, more immune, to the infection raging within her the longer it festered. She felt each line of his fingers on her waist through the layers covering her body, gripping to the flesh there and she tried not to jolt at the feeling. The warmth on her stomach was pooling throughout her and Emilia found it difficult not to shift so that she wouldn't disturb Sirius.

It was hard to breathe and even as she trained her gaze to the window, it was a pathetic attempt at distraction; she wouldn't survive like this, wouldn't survive him. Emilia forced herself to think about anything else, think about if she packed everything she needed, did she forget anything, would the key be beneath the doormat, was her toothbrush in her case, Sirius' hand on her waist, bunching the material and scratching soothing circles over the layers of clothes and what would it feel like to have him touch her there on bare skin?

Emilia suffered the entire journey, unable to even try and speak with Remus and Peter in fear of vomiting on the spot from how uncomfortably her stomach was twisting and churning, a pain brewing there that she was not used to. Whether Sirius was truly asleep, Emilia had no idea and was not brave enough to ask him because she preferred to pretend that he was so as to save herself the embarrassment in case he could certainly hear her thoughts.

Eventually, the countryside washed away into concrete and the city, the jostling of the train easing to a stop and Emilia didn't think she would feel any sort of relief to see King's Cross once more. The screeching halt of the train was enough to jostle them, Peter cursing when his skull cracked against the wall of the cabin.

The platform rolled into view, an array of excited parents and crowds ready to see their children once more and Emilia tore her gaze away, looking down once more to Sirius who had still to rouse himself from his sleep. Her legs were completely numb, not that she minded all that much, and as much as she loathed it, Emilia knew that they couldn't stay here forever.

Her hand wandered to his hair once more, ruffling it and nudging his shoulder, garnering a sleepy moan from him that made her chest hurt. "Sirius? Wake up, we're here."

Sirius shook his head and he pulled himself tighter to her, the arm wound firmly behind her back knotting itself in place. Already, Remus and Peter were putting their jackets and scarves back on, taking measures to protect themselves from the cold. "No, I don't want you to go."

"You can sleep more when you get home. Also, you're killing my legs. I don't think I'll be able to walk because of you."

"I've heard that before."

Emilia shoved his head off of her carelessly, hearing the soft thump when he connected with the seat and he groaned, stretching himself and Emilia, now trained, turned away from him, wrapping her scarf back around her as she made a move to grab her case that had been safely tucked away out of her reach.

Before she could hop up on the seat to take a hold of it, a shadow appeared and Remus was at her shoulder, leaning over her to help as he slipped it off the shelves. "Here, let me grab that."

"Thanks. I didn't want to risk falling off and breaking my neck," she said, taking it from Remus as he gave her an exhausted, soft smile but another intrusion cut across them both, Sirius shaking the sleep from his eyes and scowling ever so slightly. His hair was not as neat as it usually was, the perfect black curls of his hair out of their shapes.

"Why is it okay for him to do nice things for you, but not me?" Sirius griped, as though it bothered him how readily Emilia was to accept the helping hand from his friend and not from him.

Remus' smile grew wicked, a taunting turn to it. "Jealous much, Sirius?"

"Shut up," Sirius snapped, narrowing his eyes at Remus who did not blanch at the sight of it before he bent down and snatched the handle from Emilia despite her shout of protest. "Give me that."

Emilia grit her teeth, fingers curled in on her palms as she zipped her jacket closed and they filed out after one another into the hallway thick with other bodies. "You all know that I have two working arms and am able to carry things, right?"

"We like to let him do these things because he's not good at much else," Remus muttered to her, falling in step behind her and Sirius turned around, acting as the guide as Peter moved beside him so that they would not get lost in the scuffle.

"I heard that!" Sirius hollered.

"I know, that's why I said it," Remus threw back and was met with a middle finger over Sirius' shoulder. Emilia kept herself to the walls, hoping not to trip over her feet as Remus took the outside, preventing her from being smacked with a shoulder from an uncaring passerby. "Will your parents come to greet you at the platform?"

She tried not to wince at the question. "Um, no. No, I usually get a cab back to the house."

"Is it very far? I'm sure I could ask my dad to drop you off to save you the fare," Remus offered and Emilia blinked at it, stunned for a moment before she remembered that this was who she was now - people talked to her, people wanted to help her, people didn't ignore her existence. She shook her head at Remus' sincerity.

"Thank you, but it's okay. I wouldn't want you to go out of the way," she said and he didn't push her on it. He was very different from Sirius in that regard, then again everything about Remus was very different to Sirius. He was more soft-spoken, even though Emilia knew that he could be just as wicked as the rest of them; she wasn't led astray into thinking that Remus couldn't be as impulsive as his friends, he had said so himself. Still, he was nice and she did like him, not that she would tell Sirius that. He joked before that she was using him for his friends, but for some reason she didn't think he would appreciate it in turn now. "Is it only your dad coming to collect you?"

"Yeah. My mum's a bit ill, so she has to spend most of her time on bed rest," Remus explained and Emilia cursed herself for her prying.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she responded softly as they neared the exit point that was choked with people trying to haul themselves and their luggage off of the train. Sirius was up ahead, cutting through the sea of students, standing tall over their heads. "You must be glad to be seeing them both at Christmas."

"It's quiet, just the three of us, but I like it that way. Last time Sirius and James visited, they caused our chimney to explode. The only casualties were a crow and its eggs."

"So I can put never letting Sirius step a single foot into my house on my list," Emilia muttered and Remus laughed, the sound gentle and tired but he had a nice laugh. It didn't sting her as much as Sirius' laugh did.

They fought their way to the front and Sirius was waiting for them, impatient and suspicious of the two of them as they neared. "I heard my name being said back there, what are you two fishwives nattering on about?"

"We're chatting shit about you," Remus said casually and she had no time to stop the rather unladylike noise that escaped her.

"I knew my ears were burning for a reason," Sirius responded and stepped off the train, dropping the two cases he held in his hands down and Emilia was ready to follow when he turned around to face her, hands outstretched to her and Emilia stared, confused at what he was doing until his fingers twitched, beckoning her to him. "Here, I'll help."

Not knowing what to expect, her hands slipped into his and Emilia thought she was only going to jump down onto the platform with his aid, only for Sirius to guide her upwards, resting her grip on his shoulders and he moved forward to place his hands firmly on either side of her waist, taking her weight and easing her off the entrance way and down onto the ground, making sure that the impact would not make her bones ache. It was all too soon when he pulled away and Emilia had to brush the lingering feeling of him holding onto her, reaching down to scoop her case into her grip before he had the chance.

The sound of feet hitting the platform came from behind and Remus shivered, pulling his jacket that was a bit too small for him tight around his body. "Where did Peter go?"

"His mum scooped him up as soon as she saw him. Another soldier lost to a doting and overbearing mother," Sirius sighed, wiping a pretend tear from his eyes and they stepped away from the train so as to not clog it, delving further across the platform where on display was a thousand images of parents reuniting with their parents and their family, wrapped up in tight hugs and forced to bear a thousand kisses on their faces. She felt Sirius' hand scramble for hers, fingers tripping over one another before slotting nearly into place, tethering them together and she followed after him, Remus walking alongside them. She had no idea where it was they were going, but Sirius' gaze cast over the area, evidently searching for something in particular.

"Prongs say where he'd be meeting Fleamont and Euphemia?" Remus asked, following along as he also started his search for his father. Emilia kept her eyes on the back of Sirius' head, not having anything else she needed to look at.

"Down the line at the front of the train," Sirius said and paused, all three of them coming to a halt as he stretched himself on the tops of his feet over the ocean of bobbing heads, squinting across the distance before he tugged once more at Emilia's hand. "Come on, you should meet his parents."

Emilia nearly choked on her own spit, spluttering at the suggestion. "What? Why do I need to meet James' parents?"

"They're kind of my parents, too. Euphemia would never forgive me if I let you go before she managed to get her hands on you," Sirius explained and it didn't make her feel any better in the slightest. Meet James' parents? She liked James, and he was very nice to her, but she didn't understand why she would need to meet his parents. Her nerves became frazzled, exposed as she was put on the spot without much preparation.

"So you're throwing me to the wolves?"

"In a sense. I'm half afraid she'll squeeze my spine out through my chest from how hard she'll hug me."

Emilia frowned and couldn't help but look over at Remus but he was too busy with looking for his own family, and her eyes darted down over her attire, suddenly becoming too self aware of herself and how she might look. "That doesn't bring me any ease, you know."

"Don't be such a scaredy-cat," Sirius teased, tossing her a grin over his shoulder which she returned with a scowl.

"I'm not a scaredy-cat."

Well, maybe a little. Her stomach was turning and had she been more brave, she would have yanked her hand from Sirius' and made a run for it, but couldn't find it within herself. For whatever reason that was known only to Sirius, he wanted her to meet James' parents, and it wasn't like she could say no to him. He always made it hard to deny him anything.

Then, his feet screeched to a halt and Emilia smacked herself into his arm, nose bumping against Sirius and she scrunched it up as his grin grew impossibly wider.

"There, I see them!" Sirius announced and his hand tightened around hers, giving Emilia no time before his long legs picked up the pace and began to haul her with him. "Come on!"

She had no time and hastily turned back to Remus who was already giving them both a wave goodbye that she didn't return due to both hands currently being occupied. "Bye, Remus!"

Sirius weaved through people, Emilia having to give muttered apologies when he accidentally bumped into a person and she could barely keep up, heart running a thousand miles a minute and her mind doubling the speed as she tried to keep her nerves together; what was so scary about meeting James' parents, anyways? They were just people. New people. Did she even look presentable? Was her hair a mess? She was sure to be out of breath and panting by the time she was meeting them, hardly a good first impression, but Sirius didn't care and eventually his pace slowed until it came to a walk and Emilia desperately clawed in deep breaths to soothe her aching lungs.

She found James first and he was currently talking with an older man and woman, evidently his mother and father; they were in rapt conversation with him, and the woman was tugging at his clothes, not caring when he tried to smack her corrections away. The man was exactly like James, save for his hair that was tamed and streaked with grey. The woman had James' eyes, her long dark hair styled down her back and she was extremely beautiful, the lines on her face showing she was a woman who liked to smile.

Emilia wriggled her hand free from Sirius' clutch, instantly moving to her hair in hopes to tame it lest the wind had decided to ruin her brushing of it that morning and their arrival was met with three pairs of eyes on them, latched onto Sirius and the woman's grin grew wider, a gasp tearing through her as she drew near, hands clasped together as though a prayer had finally been answered. "Oh, Sirius!"

Sirius had no time before he was instantly wrapped up into a crushing hug, bending down to do the same. The man who looked exactly like James gave a small smile at the sight, while James frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hello, Euphemia!"

"Oh, darling, you've gotten taller!" the woman, Euphemia, exclaimed, pulling from the hug to cup Sirius' face, cradling it and inspecting every last detail that was carved there. Emilia fiddled with the handle of her luggage, wondering if she should speak up or stay silent, deciding on the latter so as to not make herself appear awkward. "And more handsome, I didn't think it was possible!"

"You've no faith in me at all."

"And thinner, are they feeding you well at the school? I knew I should have sent some treats to you and James. You're nothing but skin and bones!"

The man stepped forward and clapped a hand on Sirius' shoulder, shaking his head at his wife's concerns. "Euphemia, dear, the boy is the exact same as we left him before September."

"Hush, darling. They're growing boys, they need to eat!" Euphemia tutted, lightly smacking her husband's arm with a reprimanding shake of her head before turning back to Sirius with that same smile on her mouth once more, love pouring out of her in droves. She reminded Emilia of her neighbour, Mrs. Halabi, who was as quick to hug as she was to clip an ear if need be. Sirius was enveloped in a hug once more, the woman petting his hair with such ease as though there was once a time she did not have to reach so high to do so. "Oh, it's so good to see you again, sweetheart. I've missed you so much."

James joined the fray and had a sour expression on his face as he pouted at his parents. "Why didn't I get this kind of greeting? You treated me like I was chopped liver when I stepped off the train!"

"That's because the only one we get letters about from school is you," his father reminded, reaching up to pinch James' ear, the boy stepping out from under and rubbing his hand over the side of his head, looking a little sheepish at the reminder.

Emilia felt positively awkward at witnessing such a scene, feeling more and more like an intruder the longer she lingered on the outskirts of it all, wondering if she should just tell Sirius she needed to get a cab if she wanted to beat the London traffic; but there was no chance to do so as Sirius peeled himself away and stood back, reaching out for her and pushing her centre stage, all eyes now on her and James clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking as he turned away, forcing Emilia bear it all alone as Sirius' hand pressed itself to the small part of her back in order to keep her from hightailing it out of there. She was like a deer in headlights, hoping her face didn't seem as pink as hot as it felt.

"There's someone I want you to meet," Sirius said and the man and woman stared at her, blinking as though they were just as surprised by such a sudden introduction as Emilia was. "This is Emilia."

Euphemia's eyes were wide and Emilia didn't miss the way she and her husband shared a secret glance with one another and it made Emilia want nothing more than to jump onto the tracks, knowing that her hopes of not having the appearance of a ripe apple were dashed as heat crawled up her neck, Sirius' hand at her back doing little to provide her with any comfort even as she felt his fingers etching unknown and unfathomable constellations into her spine.

Emilia cleared her throat and was not sure if she should stick a hand out for a handshake since introductions were not exactly her area of expertise; she wished Sirius had at least told her of his plans so that she might have had time to prepare to save herself the embarrassment of a bad first impression. Her hand unglued itself from the handle of her suitcase, giving a small wave and it didn't help the way James was trying to hold in his laughter, eyes wet with tears from the attempt as he stared at Sirius.

"Hello. I'm Emilia Greene," she greeted, ignoring the warble of her voice and it made her flinch inwardly. God, did she have to be so awkward?

"Oh," Euphemia muttered, as though reeling from the shock of Emilia's presence and she blinked slowly, trying to see if when they opened, Emilia was still there. She turned her gaze to Sirius, curious and questioning. "Oh, and she's your - ?"

"Friend. She's my friend. Good friend. Really good friend," Sirius finished hastily, causing Euphemia's eyebrows to jump up her forehead and James was no longer able to contain his laughter, a guffaw breaking out of him as he wheezed for air, shaking his head and not caring when his father clicked his tongue at him.

Euphemia's eyes darted from Emilia to Sirius and back again and she nodded her head, the corners of her mouth tilting up ever so slightly as she stepped near to Emilia, who was trying to remember she was capable of speech.

"It's really nice to meet you," Emilia said softly, clearing her throat and trying to sound steady.

Sirius' hand was firm against her back, leaning forward to whisper in Euphemia's ear. "She was quite scared to meet you so I promised her that you wouldn't bite."

A horrified expression warped Emilia's features as she vehemently shook her head, scrambling for her dignity as she shot him a glare, in complete disbelief he would say something like that, however true it was. "I wasn't scared!"

Sirius shrugged, not caring that he had made her face explode like a fire spitting embers. "You were a tad."

"Well, it's always lovely to meet a friend of Sirius," the man responded and stepped nearer, sticking a hand out to her and Emilia immediately clasped it, hoping that he could not feel the sweat clinging to her palms as he gave it a shake and his smile was soft if not understanding of the predicament Emilia found herself in. "I'm Fleamont."

When her hand was released, Euphemia took the place in front of Emilia, her white teeth on display and grinning with delight though Emilia had no idea why the woman would be so happy to meet a stranger such as Emilia. The lines along her eyes deepened, like laughter was so frequent it desired to make itself a permanence. "I'm Euphemia."

"Nice to meet you."

Sirius' voice was in her ear, not even bothering to hide his playful tone. "You already said that."

"Leave the girl alone, Sirius," Euphemia chided before Emilia could have the chance to and the woman placed her hands on Emilia's arms, drinking in the sight of her from her shoes to the top of her head; whatever it was that Euphemia saw must have been met with approval as she beamed at Emilia. "Aren't you just the most beautiful thing? And such pretty eyes!"

Emilia immediately flushed, shifting on her feet at the sudden compliment that she wasn't sure was much deserved. From the corner of her eye, Sirius watched them both and his hand traced up and down her back, shoulders dropping as though a tension had buried itself into the muscles there. What did he have to be nervous about? "Oh. Thank you."

"I've never met such a lovely friend of Sirius, it's so nice to meet you, dear," Euphemia stated, giving a waggle of her brows in Sirius' direction and, before Emilia knew it, she was being pulled into an embrace as the older woman wrapped her arms around Emilia, holding her steadfast and she was so shocked that her own arms moved on their own accord to return it, unable to look to Sirius for help. Euphemia held her ever so tightly, the type of hug that Emilia had witnessed time and time again with mothers as they bid farewell to their children, trying to keep them there for even only a moment longer before they would be parted.

Euphemia's hug was just like that, the love of a mother put into something tangible and it was wrapped around Emilia.

Fleamont placed a hand on his wife's arm, giving a small laugh. "You'll crush the girl, love."

At his beckoning, Euphemia reluctantly let Emilia go but her hands remained on Emilia's shoulders, unable to help herself as she idly pushed a curtain of Emilia's hair over her shoulder to expose more of her face to Euphemia's delighted eyes.

"I'm just surprised I never heard about you before! Sirius likes to keep these things a secret," Euphemia's words became more pointed at Sirius who appeared a bit sheepish at being called out on the spot like that. "You should have told me so I could have prepared another room at the house, Sirius."

Emilia shook her head. "No, I'm spending Christmas in the house I stay at."

That was the last thing Euphemia wanted to hear as a crestfallen look washed over her beautiful features. "But you must come visit!"

"That's what I've been trying to get her to do but she hates trying to make me happy," Sirius said and Emilia joined Euphemia in giving him a glare.

"You're right, I do. Making you miserable brings me a greater joy like no other," she retorted and he pulled a face at her, not one bit pleased that he was being denied once more on his suggestion of visiting. She only had so much resolve left in her before she would bend to the insistence of Sirius, and she would be completely helpless if Euphemia also decided to do the same.

"Well, our doors are always welcome if you should ever like to come down for dinner," Euphemia asserted, and Emilia could not find any room for doubt over the elder witch's claims.

"Thank you," Emilia said and Euphemia finally stepped away, her warm touch escaping Emilia and she adjusted her case in her hands once more, knowing that time was ticking and, as much as she desired it to not be so, she would have to leave soon lest she be stuck without any way home. "I have to get a cab before the traffic starts to get any worse."

Fleamont's brows knitted together, his previous smile dripping away and giving way to a downwards tug of his mouth at Emilia's words. "A cab? Has no one come to collect you?"

"It's easier for me to get a cab. London traffic and all that."

"We can drop you home, it wouldn't be a problem," Euphemia insisted, looking a little aghast at Emilia's method for making her way back home and that bitter bile bubbled in her mouth, remembering once more that the truth of it all was not known even to Sirius and if they tried to draw attention to it all, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep it all corked within her.

"No, it's okay, really. Thank you so much, though," Emilia said and ignored how dry her mouth felt, wanting to make an escape before they started to unravel her entirely and she was ready to depart with final farewell but Sirius' fingers wrapped around her arm, moving down to take her case from her once more.

"I'll help you with your things," he stated and attempted to have it in his possession but Emilia tugged on it, refusing to let up because she didn't understand his obsession with it, with helping her when she was perfectly capable of holding her own luggage. Did he think her fragile, feminine constitution was so weak that she couldn't walk out with it to the cab?

"I can do it myself, Sirius," Emilia responded and tried to shoo him away to no avail as Sirius once more yanked on it, not backing down as they tried to gain victory over the other with everyone witnessing it.

"Just give me - " He pulled once more, her fingers nearly slipping.

"Would you let - " Emilia gritted her teeth and was half ready to send a kick flying his way.

"Sirius, let the girl carry her own case, honestly," Euphemia sighed, shaking her head at the two of them and Sirius gave a shout in indignation, sulking at the woman for not helping him.

"Why is no one ever on my side?" Sirius whined but Euphemia's gaze turned pointed and he quickly let go, not wanting to risk the woman's ire but was not one to do things half-heartedly; with her case now belonging only to her, Sirius decided that he needed a balm to soothe his aches and found it in her free hand, wrapping his fingers around her and Emilia hoped that it went unnoticed by Fleamont and Euphemia because no doubt they wouldn't understand that this was just who Sirius was, who they were. Always trying to find a piece of one another to hold onto. "Fine. I'll walk you out and wait with you."

She couldn't squirm herself free, trapped and connected to Sirius just like all other times. "Don't be ridiculous, I don't think waiting for a few minutes will kill me."

"It could, you don't know that."

"It's alright, darling, we don't mind waiting. I'm sure I spied a lovely red-head around here somewhere that I'd like to see again," Euphemia reassured and instantly, James' previous humour was washed away, mouth dropping open.

"Mum," James whined, turning a dark shade of scarlet at his mother's words but Euphemia paid no heed to her son's objections.

"Enough chatter, let's go. We'll wait for you, Sirius," Fleamont said and Sirius shot him a grin, already swivelling on his heel to make way for the exit with Emilia in tow.

"Thanks, Fleamont!"

"It was lovely meeting you, Emilia," Euphemia called out after them, distance forcing itself between them as she raised her hand to send off her goodbye.

"You too," Emilia returned and gave a small wave to James, offering a small smile his way as Sirius began leading her away. "Bye, James."

"Push that git into oncoming traffic me, would you?" James asked and was promptly met with a clip on the ear from his father, a hiss escaping him. "Ow!"

Emilia's feet quickened beneath her as Sirius guided them through the lessening crowd that had begun to swarm the streets, making their way through the congested entranceway, She kept herself close to Sirius, tied to him in more ways than one as they broke through the collection of people to the outside world; grey clouds were gathered overhead, stuffing the sky and blanketing the weakened sun as snow drifted around them, becoming wet slush that could not stick to the ground for long before it fell apart into forming puddles at their feet.

Cars lined the streets, traffic making the air tainted with fuel and Emilia had not missed it whatsoever, the brisk air just as cutting as it had been at Hogwarts as a shiver tore through her and she could not help how she stepped closer to Sirius, only for him to mimic and they were pressed flush to one another as much as they possibly could. The taxi rank was barren, though Emilia did not mind one bit. If it meant having to spend more time with Sirius, she would greedily take each moment allotted to her.

Still, the air was freezing and she peeked up at him through her lashes, catching sight of the flush in his cheeks from the cold, unseen frost nipping at his skin and she diverted her attention to where their hands were laced, the feel of his thumb brushing over her knuckles sure to start fires were it possible. She would miss this, miss him. It sent painful pangs across her chest and it was only going to get worse if she did not rip the bandaid off in one go.

"You really don't have to wait with me," she muttered to him and Sirius' eyes were instant, on her at the mere utterance of her voice. Maybe he knew she was lying from how her nails were nearly about to break the surface of his skin from how fiercely she held onto him.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to," Sirius responded. Their gazes met one another and Emilia couldn't find any trace of the teases or playful remarks that had come so naturally to him when she met Euphemia and Fleamont. His eyes were a reflection of the sky over them, rolling dark clouds that held no promise of sunshine or warmth, lacking in mirth and abundant in misery. "I won't see you now for two weeks, I want every minute that I have left with you."

That all too familiar constrictive and agonising pressure behind her ribs bloomed to life because she was too much of a coward to ever say what he had the courage to speak to life. Emilia didn't want to leave him like this, to leave it all doom and gloom between the two of them and tried to offer him a comforting turn of her lips, hoping it didn't look too demented.

"I'm not going off to fight in a war, Sirius. We'll see each other soon enough. And I'll write back to you, I promise," she assured him but it did little to lessen the darkened expression cast over his handsome features.

"It won't be the same," Sirius grumbled, and a softness washed over him, delicate and desperate on his face. "You sure I can't convince you to let me come visit you?"

He spoke as though unsure. He had no idea that if he continued, she wouldn't be able to resist.

"It's… just not a good idea. I'm sorry," she croaked, wishing she was brave enough to tell him but now was not the time to speak of such things, if there ever was a time to casually bring it up in conversation. But that was for the future, for a different time and a different place. She didn't want to think about that, not when they were on borrowed time now.

"You're right. You'll want to spend it with your family," Sirius sighed and clicked his tongue, forcing a lighter mood upon himself but it didn't reach his eyes, the gleam too weak and flickering for it to be taken seriously. "I guess I'll just have to suffer and languish without you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Emilia answered and the worst part was that she secretly hoped it was true, hoped that he would miss her just as much as she knew she'd miss him. It felt painful to even think about, how might it feel once she actually had to experience it all? She risked taking a glance over the street, able to see the line of traffic and drivers making their way back to the train station, black cabs stretching a line that went on forever. She prayed that they never arrived, as futile as such a wish might be. But they couldn't stay here forever. "She's lovely. Euphemia, I mean. And Fleamont."

"They are. They're the closest I have to a family," Sirius agreed and it was like even talking about them eased his crestfallen disposition. "Thanks for meeting them. I know you didn't want to."

Emilia blushed, shaking her head. "It's not that I didn't want to. I'm glad I did. I know it was important to you, I was just a bit nervous."

"Well, Euphemia loves you, that's for certain."

Emilia peered at him, confused how he could draw such a conclusion. "How can you tell? I only talked to her for two minutes."

"It's not just anyone she hugs, despite what you might think," Sirius asserted and Emilia wasn't inclined to believe him but decided not to fight him on the matter since he clearly knew the woman better than Emilia did. The traffic flowed in front of the station and the taxi rank began to fill up, people ushering themselves quickly to whichever one was free and Emilia felt her heart drop down into the depths of her stomach where it was gobbled up greedily. Sirius' hand was all that could stop her from spiralling further into abject misery. "I'm glad you met. It means a lot. She'll never stop hounding me to try and get you over for dinner now, so be prepared."

"I will," she said and it broke her to turn away, dropping her case at her feet to stick a hand out, waving down a cab crawling its way up to the footpath where it stopped in front of her and it might have been a white horse for the sheer dread it brought it upon her. Emilia's tongue tied itself into knots and she faced Sirius once more but he was already staring at her. "This is me."

She was about to take her case in hand when Sirius jumped ahead of her, taking advantage of the fact it was left unattended and swung it up, daring her to try and challenge him. "I'll do it and don't even think about fighting me on this."

Emilia rolled her eyes and watched as Sirius placed her case into the boot of the car, slamming it shut for her before rounding the car once more to stand in front of her, the two of them unsure of how to go about this; what could she say that that they've not already said to each other? She could see the faint outline of the paper with her address still tucked safely in his front pocket of his jeans, and it was only two weeks.

Two weeks.

How daunting.

Sirius' features screwed up, pulled into a tight expression as he studied her, chewing on his words. "Are you sure you'll be okay getting home?"

"I will. I've done this a million times before," she reassured but it did little to bring him any ease.

"Okay. I'll write to you as soon as I get back to the Potter's."

"It hasn't even been a day!"

Sirius could give a puppy a run for its money the way his eyes were looking at her. "And I miss you already."

"You're such a sap sometimes, I'm not even gone yet," Emilia scoffed, rolling her eyes at his unusual sentimentality, expecting him to make a joke in return but there were no teasing traces in his face, lingering in his voice as he stared at her. It was always strange for her because one moment, she would be accustomed to his endless playful remarks and then a switch would occur without her knowledge and he would stare at her as he was right now like she was leaving him to suffer alone in unknown torment. Emilia's heart clenched in her chest because he was being sincere and here she was, making jokes about it. "I'll miss you too."

"Of course you will."

That's what she expected. It didn't feel the same as any of his other jokes.

Emilia regarded Sirius for a moment, the way he remained on the footpath with roots that rivalled any great oak tree. Wind brushed through his curls, whipping them about him and her hands twitched with the memory of how she had been the one to touch his hair, to feel the strands against her skin. It would be two weeks now before she could do so again, if it ever cropped up for her to take advantage of it.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. She'd survive without Sirius. Not that she wanted to.

It was then the punch of reality hit her chest and Emilia didn't bother to restrain herself as she leaped to wrap her arms around Sirius, his own moving to do the same immediately and he enveloped her, standing to full height and heaving her body to his to save them both the aches that came with meeting at an awkward angle; her face buried itself into his neck, eyes squeezed shut and felt Sirius do the same, his hair tickling her cheeks as she clutched onto him with a desperation that met with his frenzied one. He wasn't even gone and her heart hurt more than it should have.

Sirius gripped at her clothes, holding the entirety of her body up and the hug might have been crushing were it not for the fact that it distracted Emilia from the fact they were on borrowed time and that two weeks was far too long of a time to be without him. She didn't want to be without him. She was unable to fathom it into spoken words because she feared how ridiculous she might sound if she did. Every breath she took was stained with the smell of his cologne that would be absent now and her hands turned to claws, like she was trying to steal a piece of him to bring with her.

His breath spilled hot down the collar of her shirt and Emilia hated that she only now just learned to become used to it just as they were to be parted. Parted, as if it was forever. Ridiculous. Maybe they were ridiculous. Maybe she just didn't care if they were.

"I'll see you in two weeks," she murmured against his throat and his arms tightened around her, the reminder not taken very well.

"Two weeks," he echoed, worn and threadbare by the length of time they would be separated for.

A short whistle and Emilia was glad that Sirius was holding her up because she might have stumbled her way into oncoming traffic from the surprise, whipping around to see the cab driver sticking his head out the window and not looking the least bit pleased by the display they were making. "Oi, lovebirds, I haven't got all day! You getting in or what?"

"Yes, sorry!" Emilia hollered and leaned away, trying to force a smile on her face and Sirius was not one bit compliant as Emilia wriggled herself free until he reluctantly placed her once more on the ground, arms persisting in their hold of her until eventually she pulled away completely, their hands searching for each other until only air was grasped. If she didn't leave now, she was sure that she would take Mrs. Potter up on her offer of staying the two weeks. Instead, Emilia scrambled for the door handle and slid in, slamming the door shut and winding the window down only to find Sirius always standing there, not a trace of the Christmas spirit in his face. "Bye, Sirius."

The cab driver was quick to get the engine on, motor sputtering to life as he pulled out from the parking spot and Emilia had to stick more of her body out of the window as distance pushed itself between her and Sirius. He stood there, hands cupping his mouth as he shouted. "Write back as soon as you can! I'll send an owl!"

She waved a hand out, trying to drink in the sight of him as much as she could before being bereft of it and of him. "Okay!"

"If you don't, I'll show up on your doorstep!" he warned, voice growing loud over the crowds and the further she was driven away and there was no point in trying to yell anything back to him at that point because he wouldn't have been able to hear her anyways. Instead, she waved her hand erratically to show his words were heard loud and clear.

The driver grumbled about pulling up the window and Emilia, not wanting to be left at the side of the road, obliged, rolling it back up before she scrambled in her seat, watching out the back window to spot Sirius still standing there, though she was unsure if he was able to even see her as her cab became indistinguishable from the plethora of other cars that looked exactly the same.

She did not turn to sit in her seat even as they moved further away until they rounded a corner and then Sirius was gone.

Emilia wondered how long Sirius stood there even after she disappeared.

---

"sorry guys we're not going to do long chapters anymore i wont be able to" SHUT UP PAST ME SHUT UP PAST ME SHUT UP PAST ME

n e ways, sorry for being a lil late. as said before, i work 6 days a week until 9pm most nights so most of this was written while i was suffering from being violently and horribly hungover yippeeeeeeeeee but anyways now we are onto our "act 2" of the story! its time for romance, sexual awakenings, and gooey lovey and also horrible and terrible angst yahoooooo i want to aim for more frequent updates i really do but my work schedule is always all over the place but i want to try now that we're onto the main event of romance and emotions gah ive already written the story plan for when it all comes to head and just a hint: sirius is a major loverboy but no surprise there

love u all so so so so so much!

song of choice while writing: forwards beckon rebound by adrianne lenker

Thanks for reading!