Mean Spirits ⋆ Sirius Black

― ix. "TAKE NO PRISONERS"

     "You've never paid an interest in the other three," said Capulet. This had also been the day when Emilia found out where the house-elves' secret corridors were in the house. Because, as she sat in the normal hallway listening in, she saw one of the house-elves (the one called Daylily) peer out of the corridor, but hide back in when she saw Emilia and heard the raised voices downstairs. "Why now? Why with Emilia?"

     "I didn't realise how much I wanted to be a part of their lives until now," said Rupert. Emilia imagined him to be holding the walking stick he saw him for the first time, with thorns and flowers etched into the wood, like the Salvatore crest. "You can't blame me for that, can you, son? All I want is to become a part of their lives."

     "No," said Capulet. Emilia had closed her bedroom door so that Ripper wouldn't accidentally walk into danger; she peered over the banisters, carefully watching. "You know exactly what she might be capable of—"

     They had walked into the dining room, and closed the door behind them. Emilia knew she'd get into trouble if she tried to listen in, so she had given up. The thing about being capable had worried her for about a day, until she dropped it. She was already getting nervous about being around her siblings every day the next September. She was more worried about that than some random thing her godfather said, and not even to her.

     Emilia turned to the page with the full details inside. The main message was that her grandfather had been staying in London (which was news to her — he had been living in Colombia ever since she and her siblings fell under her godfather's care). The hotel staff had, truthfully, thought he might've died of old age in the hotel room when three days passed without the door opening. They knocked, no answer, they peered their head into the room, and nothing.

     They alerted the Aurors when they found blood stains on the carpet. And, now, it was presumed that someone had broken in, attacked him, and taken him elsewhere to finish the job.

     Emilia felt terrible for saying it, but she wasn't particularly surprised someone had gone after him. He had helped Grindelwald. But, he had cleared off before it was made illegal to help Grindelwald, so he got off Scott-free. He was still hated for what he had done, and Emilia figured this was the work of someone Grindelwald had terrorised.

     "He's going to be dead," said Emilia. Carmilla frowned. She was still treating her like a bruised toddler; Emilia had trouble not snapping at her for this. A mixture of emotions swam in her bloodstream, and she could feel it. She could her insides warming in anger but cool down in worry. The energy they held weaved beneath her skin, between blood and bones. She imagined rods of electricity, almost. It was just a little thing that made her feel nice. Special.

     "Maybe, he hurt himself, and he went to a pharmacy, or something, to get bandages," said Carmilla. She scrunched her nose up. "Oh. Spells. I forgot."

     "From what he's done, he's probably been hunted down by someone he's hurt, or someone related to someone he hurt—"

     "Do you think—?" Carmilla paused. She frowned. "Voldemort, maybe? They say he might be the next Grindelwald — even worse, maybe... He could've done this..."

     "What, gone after an old geezer who's barely stepped foot in the UK since the sixties?" said Emilia. Carmilla raised an eyebrow at geezer. Emilia shrugged. "He is. Was. I don't know. I should write to Capulet, see if he knows anything..."

     Carmilla nodded. "I'll come with you—"

     "I'll be fine on my own, Cam," said Emilia. "Really. I'm fine. I was angry and worried earlier, but I'm guessing that had to do with who was telling me. I'm getting a little tired of finding out about my family's drama through the Daily Prophet. The Daily Prophet! Of all the places, it's that newspaper! I can't stand this, I fucking hate this—"