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chapter seventeen
"IT'S SAFER TO JUST GO"
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"And then," said Melanie, chewing on a piece of toast. Blood-red strawberry jam sat on top of the butter, and it kept on falling onto the plate underneath. Em sat opposite her, as the other half of their quartet were busy finishing some homework. She can't remember what. She thought it would be a little ironic, though, if it was something set by Slughorn, considering both Carmilla and Dinah were members of his weird club.
Well, Em was technically a part of it, but she was incredibly aware that she only got the invitations because Slughorn felt sorry. Sure, she was good at Potions, but that was because Slughorn told her beforehand about surprise tests, or homework a week before it was set, so she had longer to complete it. She appreciated it, she really did, but she couldn't help but feel weird. There was a nagging pain in the bottom of her stomach every time he — or any teacher, for that matter — pitied her and babied her because of it.
She knew they were trying to help, but she felt worse. They were going out of their way to make sure that she was fine, but really, it often felt like they were prodding at the alien, figuring that they might be doing the right thing, and it's working so far, so it should be fine.
Emilia felt bad being annoyed about it. It was just that she felt like an alien in those moments. And she knew they didn't mean to make her feel that way, but she did, and she didn't like it.
"He told me that he's in the running for some really amazing job, which I suppose is a good thing, right?" Melanie glanced over at Em, who shrugged. Pulling a face, Melanie continued, "It's at the Ministry, though, but Sage says the job's still a good one, but that's the one drawback. Which is good. He doesn't like the Ministry. Better than some of these idiots, huh?"
Melanie gestured to the boy in the year below, reading a copy of the Prophet. Em rolled her eyes, and the boy seemed to have overheard the comment, to which he looked back and frowned, like he would say something back, but he knew it would be useless. It would just result in his life becoming hell, thanks to Melanie.
"Does this mean you're going to lay off destroying egos?"
"We're not going out," said Melanie. Em raised an eyebrow, and Melanie rolled her eyes. "OK, Em, I love you, but making out doesn't translate to, yep, we're going out. I thought you'd know that. You're not going out with Sirius, are you? You keep on making out with him."
"I mean, I haven't asked — well, no, he doesn't decide, but—" Em let out a sigh. "You know what I mean." Melanie frowned. Em sighed. Again. "I don't know if we are. I don't think so. At least, if we were, I would be aware of it."
"You're adorable," said Melanie.
Em twisted her lips. "You're confusing me."
"Well, you know what, Em, you've got plenty of time to ask, or whatever," said Melanie. She started on her second slice of toast, looking down at the jam lovingly. "We've still got most of the school year left, give or take a couple weeks for Yule."
"Yeah, I suppose so," said Em, frowning at the milk left in her cereal bowl. She had a feeling there were a couple pieces of cereal left at the bottom, but they'd be to soggy now anyway. Her mind quickly fell back onto the topic of the upcoming holidays and she felt her stomach drop with dread. "I'm not looking forward to the holidays."
Melanie paused her eating, frowning at her best friend. She smiled softly. "If you want, Em, you can stay at mine," she said. "You'd be welcome to stay — really, Em, if you don't want to go there, then we'll make sure you don't."
"I don't think I'll get away with not going," said Em. She rested her head in her hand. "I know I say it a lot, but he's really scary when he's angry. And I know he didn't actually do anything to Rupert, but still. Isn't the fact that I thought he was capable of it something anyway? I don't like it, Mel, but I don't know what he'll do if I don't go back..."
"I don't think you should go back — I really don't think it's safe enough — but it's your decision," said Melanie. Her brows were furrowed again. She looked worried on Em's behalf, and she felt bad because of it. She didn't want her friends to worry about her. "Just be careful, OK? Make sure you've got some way to get out, if you need to... Em, I really don't think—"
"It's safer to just go," said Em. It's safer for you and Carm and Di if I just go. It's safer to just go, because if I don't, I don't know what my godfather will do. It's safer to just go, because my godfather can get angry and I don't want you getting hurt because of it. Because of him.
Melanie looked at her in a way that made Em believe that she didn't agree on that. Her best friend had a frown on her face, looking at her, as if the real answer would be sitting on her facial features, until she let out a sigh and continued eating her breakfast.
Em frowned, and said, "You don't mind if I leave you to go to the Owlery?"
"Go for it," said Melanie, smiling softly. She winked at her. "I wonder who your godfather's murdered this week."
Shrugging and laughing back, Em got to her feet, pulling her school bag over her shoulder as she set off in the direction of the Owlery. It had been a couple of days since the last letter from her godfather, and recently, that was a worrying amount of time between each letter.
She was a couple metres out of the hall when she heard a familiar voice go, "Where are you off to, then?" Em raised an eyebrow, and Sirius smiled back at her, catching up to her.
"Where's the fuck, Salvatore?" asked Em.
Sirius moved to put an arm around her. "If you want—"
"I wasn't implying that," said Em. She rolled her eyes. "And I was going to the Owlery. I'm guessing Capulet's sent another letter, so... But my first lesson's close to it, and you've got the same as Mel, so don't come—"
"I'm fine being late," said Sirius.
"I'm not fine with making you late," said Emilia. She stopped in her tracks, pulling his arm off of her and holding onto his hand. "How about you don't get into trouble and we can go together later?"
"Isn't it from your uncle?"
"He can wait."
Sirius' eyebrows rose. Em frowned back at him, as he scratched the back of his neck. "You know, Salvatore, I love that you're less worried about him, but still—"
"I can say I was busy this morning," said Em, shrugging. "And I know he's still dangerous, but he's not here, is he? He can't hurt me for anything whilst I'm at school. And if he does anything in the holidays, then I know the ways out of the house, I can get to my friends' houses in two seconds flat."
"If need be, Em, Prongs' house is opposite the house painted blue," said Sirius. Em nodded, smiling gratefully. "I know what it's like. Are you sure you should go back—?"
"It's safer to just go," said Em. She continued to hold onto his hand, whereas he continued to look concerned. Emilia didn't like this, truly. She didn't like how he was worrying about her, how her best friends were worrying, how she had people — people with their own lives, their own histories and futures — taking time out of their day to worry about her. She wished they didn't. She felt terrible. "I'll be fine, Sirius. You don't need to worry."
"It's not something I can switch off, Em," said Sirius, his brows furrowed. "Make sure you're careful, yeah?"
"I promise," she said, smiling softly. She let go of his hand to put it on his shoulder, leaning forwards to kiss him quickly. "I suppose I should go to my lesson—"
"How'd you fancy a midnight walk later on?" said Sirius.
"Sounds wonderful," said Em, a small smile on her face as she stepped backwards, about to depart for her class. She stepped forwards in the direction of her classroom, but she frowned, figuring that she probably had enough time to head to the Owlery before her first lesson started. Really, knowing what her godfather's letters could involve, it probably was best that she read them on her own first.
She passed several groups of students, and she heard the usual whispers about Rupert and Augustus. It didn't affect her as much. She was slowly building a wall around the subject, and she knew it would be a long time until the wall of iron-built bricks was fully constructed, but it was started to be created. The whispers weren't as piercing as they were when the wound was fresh.
Em had a feeling that Dinah was slowly getting used to it, too, which made Em feel incredibly happy. She hated seeing her best friend in pain, and she understood completely why Dinah would be feeling this way, but she still hoped that she'd be able to come to terms with the situation. She knew it would take time, because Dinah had essentially lost her father, but Em wanted to the grieving to be over, just so that her best friend didn't feel upset anymore.
It made her think, really, about how she'd feel if she was in that position. She'd hate it, if she was in that position. Sure, Azkaban sounded terrible, but so did the idea of her loved ones missing her and feeling agony because she was gone. Alive but not truly; practically dead to them, considering the circumstances. The idea broke her heart. She'd hate to know her best friends missed her like that.
She walked into the Owlery just as a gust of wind pushed past the entrance. Her hair blew backwards, but before the cold could bite and leave a cold, she was in some form of warmth. Not that the Owlery was much of an improvement to standing outside. With wet hair.
Em found her letter, and pulled the usual Salvatore stamp off of the back to pull out the parchment. Two pieces fell out; she picked up the largest one, the one that held her godmother's handwriting. Her brows furrowed. At first, she thought something had happened to her godfather, but she could see his handwriting on the other piece. Still, she chose to read Donna's letter first. They're less frequent.
Emilia,
I'm incredibly sorry to inform you that Chandler's currently residing at St. Mungo's. A werewolf attacked him last night, and although that's caused nothing but a few scratches, when he tried to escape through Apparating, he splinched himself. Don't worry, dear, everything's being sorted out, and I can say that he'll be ready in time for Christmas, I just wanted to let you know.
I hope the rest of your term goes great! I look forward to see you in the holidays!
Lots of love,
Donna
Em's eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right.
Her godfather's letter looked like it had been shoved into the envelope before it was sent off.
Emilia Elodie.
The issue has been sorted. He won't do anything anytime soon.
Capulet.
Her stomach dropped.
She didn't encourage that, did she? She didn't encourage him to try and kill her brother, did she? She couldn't remember the conversation word-for-word, but she didn't think she'd agree to that. Sure, he wasn't the nicest brother, but she didn't want him dead!
This wasn't supposed to happen. She couldn't comprehend how this had all spiralled from the decision to show her family that she wasn't someone to be walked over. Now her uncle thought it was fine to include her in murder? Now her biggest concern was less what food to give her rabbit, or where to hide him whilst she's at home, but rather:
— How do I help my best friend get through the ordeal of her father going to prison, for killing my grandfather?
— Why was my grandfather killed in the first place?
— Why does my godfather trust me with this, but not my other siblings?
— Why am I trusted and included, when I'm supposed to be the sibling that's hated, that caused Marie to leave us, that was a walking burden?
Everything felt like it was closing in on her. Not that she didn't experience that often, but, this wasn't being caused by the normal things. She wasn't getting numbers muddled up. She wasn't struggling to process paragraphs of text. No. Her godfather had tried to fucking kill her brother and, although she didn't get along with either, she couldn't understand this. Why her? Why was she being included? Why wasn't Mona, or Paisley? Why was she, barely an adult, being trusted with the attempt to murder her own brother?
Em was tempted to stay in the Owlery all day and skive off school, but she knew she'd get questioned later on. And what would she say then? Oh, sorry, I was a little preoccupied, because, you see, my godfather tried to kill my brother and I think I had something to do with it and, yeah, I'm a little stressed.
It will be fine. It will be fine, she kept on telling herself as she hurried to her first lesson, sitting in her usual seat and trying her best to tune in to the lesson.
But she couldn't. How could she? How could she sit in her usual seat and pretend everything was fine? Nothing was. If her godfather thought she had something to do with this — which she did, she felt like she did, the guilt gnawing at her insides told her that very damn clearly — then she was going to struggle getting herself out of the future he wanted for her.
And then it clicked.
She remembered why she recognised the name. Tom Riddle. The idiot with those supporters — oh, shit, what was their name? It was something stupid, something that's going to become something different in the future, like Stormtroopers — Death Eaters! His supporters were the Death Eaters!
And, then, it actually sank in.
Death Eaters. The ones that were killing muggleborns, targeting witches and wizards with muggle mothers and fathers. The ones that were still in the shadows, still not causing enough horror that the newspapers would properly report on it, that the Ministry would take further action.
That's what her godfather wanted her to become. That's why he didn't think it was suitable for Carm.
She wouldn't become a Death Eater. She would never cave in and agree to it. Accepting that wasn't as light as agreeing to seeing him in Hogsmeade when she'd rather die.
If she agreed to that, she'd be selling her soul. She'd become a shell of being. She'd be partaking in pain and destruction, the sort that would last for generations. These Death Eaters are already plucking people out of their homes and killing them with green lights. That wouldn't just affect families for a year or so, whilst they mourned — most killed at the moment were young, so the next generation, or the generation after that, would be thinned from it.
She knew not everyone would have families in the future, but still. Who would bring a child up when they don't know what they'll be bringing that child into? It was the same with the muggles, the idea of don't-have-children-during-war.
And they're going into one right now, this side of the world. She knew this. She knew the newspapers weren't saying it yet, but she knew it was going to happen. It was bound to. If they're not serious enough about it, it'll grow and it'll become war.
She fully understand this, and it repulsed her to the core, understanding what side her family would go to.
***
The ice outside the Owlery's doors had been melting, Em realised later on. Her mind slowly processed and accepted the matter at hand, now that the biggest curtain had been thrown off of the rod: her godfather was a Death Eater and wanted her to be one, too, and she needed to find a way out of it, without getting attacked like Chandler had done.
"You could always leave them," said Sirius. Em frowned. They were back in the prefect's bathroom — not for any reason this time, it was just that the room was warm by the castle's standards, and there were spare towels piled up in certain parts of the bathroom, so it was a bit comfier for the back of their heads, lying on the floor in opposite directions, but with their heads next to the others.
"He tried to kill my brother — I don't know what he did, but I doubt it'll be as bad as straight-up leaving the family," Em replied. "It's safer to just go. I can get through Christmas without getting into trouble. I've done that for every school break — well, except for the last one. But it should be fine, right? I'll just be quiet and nod and get out as soon as possible."
"It's still not safe, Em," said Sirius. "If you've got to tiptoe, then surely it's not safe to go back—"
"But what else can I do? Go to Dinah's house, or something, and hope that he doesn't come and kill me? Chandler got off lucky, but I might not..." Em sighed. She put her hands on her face; her palms had been pressed against the stone floor, and the cold was now pressing into her face. It was somewhat calming. "If I die, look after my rabbit for me. Make sure my siblings don't dissect him alive, or something... I bet they would."
"You know, Em, I thought my mum would drag me out of Prongs' house, when I first left home... It's normal to think that, but it didn't happen to me — actually," said Sirius. She took her hands off of her face and turned her head, to find him frowning. "They're different types of evil, aren't they? My mother was a rotting piece of shit, and she still is, as is my father, but, your godfather's something special, isn't he, if he tried to kill your brother for, what? Sneezing at the wrong time?"
Em scoffed. "I've been wondering what was the reason, but, you know, that makes complete sense. He sneezed, he was killed. Almost."
"Almost sneezed or almost killed?"
"You know what I mean."
She sat upright, a small smile on her face. "I bet I'm just making a mountain out a molehill," said Emilia. "Come next term, and I'll be fine, and nothing will have changed."
"Well, you never know," said Sirius. He sat up, leaning and applying most of his weight to his hands, which were a little behind him. "You might get some Christmas presents. You might have an extra jumper or two."
Em smiled. "They'll make nice bandage fabric when I'm stabbed, or something," she said. Sirius looked unimpressed, and she laughed as he shook his head. A smile started to appear on his face, the more that she passed off the joke as what it was, a joke. "Thank you for being concerned, though."
She moved closer to him. "I wouldn't dream of being anything different," said Sirius. "I mean, by this point, I'm less interested in you fucking with your family, but rather, you."
"I'm glad this happened — not so much the whole thing with my godfather being evil, but this. Us two. I like it."
"I do too," said Sirius. He stood up, putting his hand out to help her up, too. A grin sat on his face. "You know what we should do?"
"If you say each other, I swear to Merlin—"
"No! Well — I'm fine with that if you are—" Sirius stopped. Em rolled her eyes. "We should go on a date. A proper one. The sort that are sickening to watch."
"There's one more Hogsmeade weekend before the holidays," said Em. She smiled at him. "I mean, it might be fun."
Sirius said, "Might be embarrassing."
Em nodded. "Probably, yeah."
Both exchanged a look, and they started to laugh. The idea of it was funny, but she was looking forward to it. Or, at least, she was looking forward to a weekend where she wasn't talking to her godfather about something she didn't know about fully.
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ok so i am very very sorry for the slow update, but, hopefully it'll pick up the pace now!! school's settled now, for the most part.
i hope you enjoyed! let me know what you thought! :)
(not long now until the thing from the preface happens hehehehe)
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