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chapter six

"PIGEONS DON'T LIVE IN PIGEON HOLES"

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     Emilia, admittedly, could've dealt with the situation in a slightly less boisterous fashion. She could've been a little calmer. She could've walked a little slower. She could've waited patiently instead of folding the letter back up, discarding the croissant. She heard someone yelp behind her. She might've stepped on a foot. She felt bad.

     She spotted Sirius about to leave the hall and she quickly caught up to him. She was unable look at the Slytherin table — although it was a lot easier to find her friends nowadays, because Dinah's hair stuck out like a purple light — so she had no clue whether her friends were nearby.

     "Sirius!" she said. She put her hand on his arm. Both looked at her hand. Eventually, she snapped out of it and put her hand to her side. "The letter — Capulet replied to it."

     Sirius' eyes lit up. She saw James walk up behind Sirius. "Hey, Padfoot, we'll meet you in Potions," he told him. Sirius nodded. James looked at Emilia. She felt on the spot. "Morning, Salvatore."

     "Morning, Potter," she said. James smiled at her before walking off. Had she ever properly spoken to him before? Maybe excuse me, but that must've been it. It's not like they would cross paths, anyway. She's still surprised that she's getting along with Sirius. She turned to Sirius, and handed him the letter.

     He looked incredibly happy until he began to read it properly. She could see his eyes move across the words and then back to the start, and she frowned. Did she not read into it enough? She just thought it was unexpected. If she was being honest, until she started to wonder why he seemed to be reading it over, she was just thinking how he looked rather pretty when he was happy. Which she had seen a lot, but, until then, she hadn't really noticed it completely. But, anyway.

     "So, it's unexpected," said Emilia. "I thought he'd freak out, he's got an awful temper, you would've thought this would've been the last straw because all of the other stuff was just at home, but this stuff — the school knew before him! That's bad for his reputation, right?"

     "I mean, it is unexpected," said Sirius. He handed the letter back. "I suppose his reputation's not going to get damaged — he's high up in the Ministry, right? I doubt that's going to change if you get detentions."

     Emilia crossed her arms. "He left the Ministry in seventy-one, the only reason he's still powerful is because he invests in so many businesses," she said. "Especially this one his school friend runs? I don't know what it is, but it's big enough that he's been working on it for the past couple years... Like, he offered me and my friends jobs there—"

     "Who was he friends with at school?"

     "I don't know, some guy called Tom?" said Emilia. She shrugged. Sirius' eyes widened. "I don't see why that's important, though. He'd have enough power regardless of that business. The department he used to run was important, he'd never lose the reputation he got from it."

     "Which department—?"

     Emilia tapped her nose. "I'll tell you later."

     Sirius sent her a quizzical look. Emilia smiled back.

     "I suppose we should head to our lessons—"

     "One second, Salvatore," said Sirius. She raised an eyebrow, a small smile still on her face. "If he's written to Sprout, won't she find out we forged her—?"

     Emilia's eyes widened.

     "Oh, fuck!"

     So, she was dead. That was a given. Sprout was nice, she really was, but she had a thing against dishonesty, which Emilia normally liked. But, in this circumstance, she hated it. Sprout's going to confront her, Sprout's going to let Capulet know that she made it up, and then everything in the future — even if she actually did it — would be treated as a lie.

     The whole thing will be destroyed. Useless. She'll never be able to shake the reputation of being the stupid youngest sibling. She just wanted to get rid of that, she wanted them to stop messing around with her. She sounded silly saying it, but she wanted to be treated like an equal. She wasn't less than them because she has dyslexia, she just learns differently. And also can't read a clock. Or add up in her head. But that's fine. She's used to it now. She's fine with that.

     You know what she isn't fine with? This.

    "Okay, easy," he said. He put his hands up, as if he was about to hold onto her arms to steady her, but then he let them fall back to his sides. She frowned. Weird. "Sneak into her office during lunch, if you need any help, I'll try and distract her."

     I should've thought of that. Emilia felt her stomach twist. She wasn't going to have that conversation with herself. Not now, not again. She shouldn't be harsh on herself, she knew that, but she couldn't help it. It was a habit she couldn't shake, and she hated that she did it, but she often didn't realise that she was doing it until it did.

     "Yeah, um, thanks," she said. Her thoughts had gotten so muddled up that she felt exhausted. Just another Tuesday. "You know, you don't have to help out."

     "Oh, no, I'm too invested now," said Sirius. Emilia scoffed. "I am! And, anyway, I don't mind it. Like I said — Hufflepuff gone bad? I've got to see that."

     Emilia shook her head. "I don't think I'm doing very well at it," she said. "I mean, you're the one that does all of those pranks! Sending one forged letter doesn't equal the countless mornings I've heard McGonagall shouting at you and the other marauders."

     Sirius grinned proudly. "Yeah, but, none of us gave ourselves a tattoo," he said. Emilia smiled back at him, glancing at her arm happily. "But — do you mind, maybe, helping me out with that? I've been wanting some for ages, but I didn't realise there was a spell for it, I figured I'd have to wait to go to one of the shops."

     "Me and Dinah found it in some old spell book," said Emilia. "And I'd be happy to. Though, it was Dinah that did mine. I did the tester one on her—" She smiled at him. "I've done one, just not this one. But I know how to do it."

     Sirius nodded. Emilia rocked back and forth on her feet. She felt calmer than a couple minutes ago. "I best go to Potions," he said. "I'll see you later, or something, yeah?"

     "Yeah," she said. He walked off, and she finally spotted her friends. A part of her brain was stirring. She didn't want to leave it. She couldn't leave it. She'd be worried about this until she sorted it out.

     She let out a sigh, and as she got up to her friends, she smiled.

     "Fancy skipping first period and breaking into Sprout's office?"

     Dinah and Carmilla's face lit up like a sky of stars.

***

     As a member of her house, Emilia was accustomed to Professor Sprout's timetable. She knew it in case she and her friends wanted to sit in the Hufflepuff common room instead of the Slytherin one (which was often the case in the summertime). Students from different houses weren't supposed to enter the Hufflepuff territory, likewise the Slytherin dungeon was supposed to be Slytherin-only. Same with the towers owned by the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors.

     So, technically, detentions were supposed to be handed out if students trespassed onto the other houses' soil. But, most of the time, they'd let you off because they understood why you'd be sneaking into Slytherin if all your friends were in Slytherin. And, since the confrontations would last forever and then you'd have to leave the common room, it was easier to figure out the times where you could sneak in, and the times where you couldn't.

     Emilia knew that Professor Sprout would be busy that morning, because every morning, Professor Sprout would be either in her classroom or the staff room. She steered clear of the Hufflepuff basement until the afternoon, because by then she'd be awake enough to deal with whatever drama was going down. It was also more acceptable to drink wine after lunch, but Emilia didn't know if that had anything to do with it.

     But, Sprout's office would be clear all morning. Emilia had managed to find her friends in the hall, which she hoped would end in them encouraging her. But, no, oh no. The three girls were downright determined to include themselves in Emilia's attempt to break into Sprout's office and destroy the letter. (She'd read the letter first, of course, she was intrigued as to what her godfather wrote.)

     "We're grabbing the letter and going straight to whatever lesson we've got," said Emilia, letting the lot of them into the Hufflepuff basement. Melanie looked disheartened by that. She sighed and nodded in agreement.

     "But, then, surely her post goes to the staff room, in the pigeon holes?" asked Carmilla. "They have pigeon holes, right?"

     "Why are pigeons in holes?" asked Melanie. "That makes no sense."

     "They're in the holes to stop them from shitting on people," said Dinah. She frowned. "I don't know why they're being kept in the staff room, though."

     "Does that mean the white in Dumbledore's hair is caused by the pigeons?" asked Emilia. "That would make sense."

     Carmilla tilted her head. "They don't have actual pigeons in the holes."

     "Then why would they be called pigeon holes?" asked Dinah.

     "And anyway," said Emilia, "Sprout gets her post sent to her office. Probably to stop getting pigeon shit on them."

     Carmilla let out, "There aren't actual pigeons—!"

    The four walked through the common room, past discarded rounds of toast and essays that'll be resumed in the evening. Their common room was right next to the kitchens, some of the students ended up grabbing something from the kitchen so they can take longer to get ready. Emilia would do this, but she preferred to avoid her dorm room as much as possible. She liked to avoid the conversations about her grandad and his friend Grindelwald, thanks.

     "What do you think he wrote to her?" said Dinah, arms crossed and gaze dancing from one section of the common room to another.

     Carmilla scoffed. "You know him, it'll be a threat."

     Emilia let out, "He wouldn't—!"

     Melanie asked, "Didn't he run the department that got rid of—?"

     There was movement. Sprout's office was ahead, down a little corridor behind a cozy-looking sofa. Emilia squinted. Dinah, Melanie, and Carmilla did the opposite.

    "Well," said Dinah, "we're fucked."

     "No we're not," said Emilia. She frowned. On the nearby sofas, there were a few black-and-yellow ties lying around. "Swap your ties with those ones, and hide your robes. Just sit down or something, pretend you have a free period, I'll see if she's in."

     Dinah began, "But—!"

     "It'll be easier," said Emilia.

     Dinah scowled.

     Emilia walked down the narrow corridor. Near it stood the ones that led into all the dorm rooms, down slightly larger corridors decorated with plants and paintings. She reached the office door, and behind her, she heard Melanie yelp. Emilia span around, to find Melanie being held in both Dinah and Carmilla's arms. One of Sprout's plants was waving a leaf at Melanie.

     And Slytherins are meant to be scary. Pssht.

     She knocked on Sprout's office door. No sound. Emilia tilted her head. Was it just one of the plants making the noise? Maybe. Sprout liked to leave them everywhere. Not that Emilia minded. Sometimes it was funny to see the plants go after the older students, the one that kicked the first years off the sofas to make space for their greedy arses. Served them right, at least.

     Emilia turned the door handle. Slowly. Slowly. Very slowly and very carefully. Who knows, maybe Sprout's napping in her office chair and didn't hear her knock on the door? If that was the case, then at least Emilia could try and grab the letter, and then run back out?

     She opened the door. Emilia peered into the room, and realised that it was empty. She sighed with relief. She saw the usual pile of post sitting on the desk. Emilia began sorting through the letters, checking the back of them for Capulet's wax seal; it was a mustard yellow with the Salvatore crest, a series of flowers and thorns looping together. Mostly thorns.

     Emilia began to give up hope when she spotted it. In neat, cursive writing, the envelope addressed itself to Professor Sprout. She flipped it over. The Salvatore crest sat proudly. Emilia, without thinking, tore the letter open.

     Dear Professor Sprout,

     It has come to my attention that my goddaughter and adoptive daughter, Emilia Salvatore, has found herself in some trouble. I would like to remind you and your co-workers that my goddaughter does not deserve any of this punishment, and in fact, encouragement should be carried through by her teachers. Emilia Elodie is a smart young girl but she still needs to get out of her shell. I encourage you to allow this to happen, regardless of property damages, because she doesn't deserve the detentions caused by wanting a simple thing — to find her footing in this world.

     My four godchildren have gone through a lot. All of them have come out strong, but even an idiot could tell that the youngest, Emilia, is the brightest and the one that will become most successful. I personally find it unjust to hand out detentions simply because she is trying to experience things.

     Of course, I don't like to say this casually, but I have no choice. If you and your co-workers believe it is acceptable to punish a student as brilliant as my goddaughter, I frankly need to state this. You see, you may know that I, Capulet Salvatore, was once the leader of a very important department in the Ministry. I helped take care of any problems this country could've faced. I still hold this power amongst the Ministry. It would be unwise to cross me.

     If you need to contact me further, please do so. However, I will be most displeased if I'm contacted about detentions being given to my goddaughter.

     Signed,

     Capulet Salvatore

     Her head tilted. Her eyes narrowed. She didn't expect that. She was the best out of her siblings? In what world is that the case? She's the youngest, she's the weakest. They're all smarter than her, they're all more independent, they're better than her in every way possible. The reason why they treat her like shit is because she's the worst! Why would Capulet think she was the best?

     He must be lying. He must be making it up, so that Sprout would clear off with the detentions. Yeah, that makes more sense. Capulet was just being kind and reworking the truth to make Sprout more likely to lay off the detentions. Which don't exist, by the way, Emilia reminded herself. The confusion from the letters kept on tricking her and making her believe she had detention for however long she first said. She can't remember. She can barely remember what's left and what's right without trying to make an L with her fingers.

     She didn't like, though, how easily Capulet mentioned his old job. How could he say that? Everyone knew about that department, but it was one of those things that you just brushed off as something that wasn't really real. Like, don't the Americans have those men in black that sort out aliens? Most people figured they existed but also, they thought they didn't. Which made no sense, but, it was the case.

     Capulet's old job was scary and important and serious enough that it was kept quiet amongst the Ministry. People had the inklings of what his old job was, from the evenings he'd walk into the Ministry with red stains dotted around on his hands and an extra spring in his step. It was like Dorian Gray — people had an idea of how he kept his beauty immortal, but it was treated like a ghost story.

     Emilia frowned. But—

     CRASH.

     She jumped. She swore under her breath. She could hear Sprout's voice rise, and her friends respond to whatever she was saying. Emilia felt her stomach drop. She put the letter back into the envelope and tucked it between the skin on her back and the top of her skirt. She moved her shirt over the envelope and positioned her robes back into place. It was fine. She'd be fine. By the sounds of it, Capulet would fucking deal with it.

     "Girls, I don't know why you're in the Hufflepuff basement — or why you're wearing Hufflepuff ties! I know that you're in Slytherin, why are you—?"

     Emilia opened the door. Sprout turned to her.

     "Miss Salvatore, why are you in my office?"

     "I was looking for you," said Emilia.

     "And you decided to stay in my office after you couldn't find me?"

     "Yes."

     Dinah winced. Melanie bit on her lip to stop laughing. Carmilla was shaking her head. They were all standing behind Sprout, lined up like three criminals. But, Sprout couldn't see their faces. She could see Emilia's, which was fucking fantastic.

     Actually. Emilia didn't feel too worried. She was surprised by that, if anything. A part of her was bitterly thinking that she could easily get her godfather to send Sprout another one of these letters, but then that would be questioned, because most likely he'd mention how he had already told her to lay off Em's case.

     Regardless of that, Emilia wasn't worried, nor was she panicked. She had the envelope carefully hidden. She didn't care if she ended up with a detention. It wasn't a big deal, really.

     "You must think I was born yesterday, Emilia," said Sprout. Dinah gave Emilia a warning look. Emilia would've looked back at her and grimaced or frowned or something, but she decided it was the wrong place and the wrong time for that. "What were you actually looking for?"

     Emilia thought for a couple seconds. "Oh, well, I might've been looking to see if you were in so that we could skip our first lesson and sit in here?"

    Sprout frowned at her. "I'll let you know where detention will be on Friday evening," she said, "and you can let your friends know, too. Go to your lessons, girls."

     The four of them left the common room as quickly as possible, because as soon as they were a hallway away from the Hufflepuff basement, Emilia pulled the envelope out and held it high in the hair. "I got it!"

     They hurried down a couple more hallways until they found an alcove big enough for the four to squeeze into. Emilia read the letter out to them. Dinah spent most of it looking incredibly pissed off. Melanie and Carmilla nodded with intrigue.

     "I still don't like him," said Dinah.

    Melanie frowned. "I think Sage works in that department now..."

    Carmilla raised an eyebrow. "You're talking to him again?"

     "I didn't stop," said Melanie, "we're just friends."

     "At the minute," Dinah muttered.

     Emilia said, "But, surely, he shouldn't be threatening Professor—"

     "The thing is, though," said Dinah, "your godfather is important to the Ministry, even if he doesn't work there anymore. She's not, is she? He knows how many years of problems they've had taken care of? She's just a teacher."

     "I don't get why he didn't get pissed off at me," said Emilia. "I thought he would. He's got such a bad temper, you would've thought this would get that going... My brother and sisters are still scared of him for it."

     Carmilla smiled. She put her arm around Emilia, which would've been a nicer gesture if that didn't make them all feel even more squashed together. "Look, we'll figure it out," she said. "But for now, forget about it."

     "And surely it's good?" said Melanie. "If he doesn't care?"

     "But if he doesn't care about this, then why did he get angry about doing all of the stuff at home?" asked Emilia. "And I wanted him to be pissed off. I wanted him and Donna to be surprised and to mention it to my siblings and for there to be an actual reaction. Not this! This is pathetic. I'm going to have to step up my game. Not that I had any in the first place."

     Dinah frowned. "Okay, how about we calm—"

     "Mel," said Emilia. "Need any help with Sampson and that lot?"

     A massive grin spread across Melanie's face.

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I really enjoy writing the stuff with emilia and her friends. Like (idk if you've read it) but in the other marauder era fic I wrote, the main character was pretty close with the canon characters and I wanted a change for this and I honestly really like it??

i hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you thought! :)

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