Never Let Go

For her blatant disregard to his orders, Severus took it upon himself to ensure that Emilia would never again make the mistake of disobeying him. Had the old punishments still been permitted, he would hung her by her wrist for a few hours or condemn her to twenty lashes, but fortunately for her, such punishments were banned by the Ministry. And he was therefore left to his usual devices, though to be honest, Emilia didn’t count herself lucky. She hated him, she hated the fact that she was being put to work like a house elf, she hated that she hadn’t had a decent nights sleep in ages, but most of all, she hated herself for having put herself in that position to begin with.

If she’d only heeded his words, she wouldn’t have had to be his personal house elf for a month. She could’ve avoided scrubbing his classroom and chambers, assisting him during the brewing of potions, and venturing into the Forbidden Forest with him to pick herbs and plants that he needed for potions whose names he never revealed to her. She could’ve avoided being deprived of sleep and having her grades suffer, but no, she’d gone to match, and there was no changing that. Not that she would. She had to go to the game, to have not gone would’ve upset Ro, and as silly it sounded, she preferred the punishments that Snape bestowed on her, over getting into a fight over Ron about her not being at the match.

So she endured the detentions. There was nothing else she could do. She had to listen to Snape, do as she was told, and when she’d finish her detention, he would put her through the daily hell of preparing her for war, and at the end of that, she’d stumble into the dorm she shared with those vile Slytherins, and struggle to do a bit of coursework and reading before her body refused to stay awake any longer.

That month was the longest, most grueling of her life, and when it finally came to an end, when November gave way to December, she was so relieved to have actual time to herself that she ran outside into the bitter cold that she detested and jumped atop a small hill of snow. If she’d done that a few hours earlier, there would’ve still been students out, but it was late, well past seven at night, and she was the only one out there. She giggled wildly, moved her limbs to make a snow angel, and after returning to her senses and realizing how much she hated the snow, she ran back inside to take a warm shower.

“Look at the state of you!” exclaimed Sally when Emilia ran into the dorm. “You’ll catch cold, you will!”

“Hopefully . . .” mumbled Pansy from her bed.

“You say something?” asked Emilia, sharply.

Pansy shrunk back, hiding behind the canopy. She’d learned her lesson.

Emilia redirected her attention to Sally. “Nah, I don’t think I’ll get sick. Just have to take a quick shower, and then get some hot chocolate in me.”

“But it’s nearly curfew, you’ll get into loads of trouble if you’re caught outside.” Sally warned. “And you’ve only just finished a month’s detention. You shouldn’t risk it.”

“What’s life without a little risk? Plus, it’s not like the kitchens are that far. It’s just a little walk. If anything, you should join me. It’ll be funny.”

“Oh no, no, no, thank you, but no. I won’t be tempting Snape to give me detention.”

“Alright then, it’s your loss.”

She didn’t linger much longer in the room. She grabbed her toiletries along with a change of clothes, and rushed off to the showers. When she finished up, she grabbed a warm coat, and then walked right out, ready to have a late night hot chocolate and some toast. She thought the kitchens were going to be deserted by the time she got there. Of course there would be a few house elves there, there always was but she didn’t expect to see any students hanging about, but when she walked inside, her warm grey eyes fell upon the hunched figure of her cousin.

“Draco?” she called to him, her voice soft and a smile tugging at her lips.

He looked up from the table, his face looking more worn than it normally did. “Emma,” he greeted her, his voice low.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she took a seat in front of him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” lied Draco. “Everything’s brilliant, perfectly fucking brilliant.”

“I’d have to be really dumb to buy that line, almost as dumb as Crabbe or Goyle.” She expected him to smile, he always smiled when she made fun of them, but no, his lips remained the same. Without even thinking, she rested her hand atop his. “Draco, you know I'm here for you right? Whatever it is that’s bothering you, maybe I can help.”

“No one can help,” he hissed, sliding out his hand from beneath her.

“Does it have to do with . . . it?” She didn’t need to mention the dark mark by name, he knew what she meant.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” he snarled.

“Draco, we’re cousins! You are my business! And if I can help you then –”

“WHAT PART OF NO ONE CAN HELP ME DON’T YOU GET?” bellowed Draco. “I don’t have bloody time for your nonsense. No bloody time at all!” He stood up from his seat and grabbed his cloak.

She should’ve let him go. He clearly needed to work out his frustrations, maybe break a few things to feel better, but her heart – that damn thing – made her chase after him. And before he could protest or tell her off, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, and pulled him in for a strong embrace. He struggled against her at first. It wasn’t dignified to be hugged. Not in public. Not by her. He didn’t need her damn hugs so he thrashed in her arms, but with each movement, her embrace only tightened, and soon enough his hands fell to his side, his face lost itself in her jacket, and he felt himself become undone.

This was different from when he cried in front of Myrtle. The ghost always just floated in front of him and whispered reassuring things in that annoying voice of hers, but Emilia held onto him with a tenderness he’d only ever experienced with his mother. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to, the way she held him, the way she rubbed his back let him know she was there for him, that she truly cared. And when he finally realized what he was doing, when he pulled away from her, she didn’t talk or ask if he was alright. She just smiled softly at him.

“You better not –”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she interjected. “I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well don’t, if you don’t want to. I honestly don’t care. The fact that you don’t believe that I'm gonna keep my word isn’t going to make me not keep it. I'm not gonna tell anyone, because it’s none of their damn business.”

“Why are you like this? Why are you so bloody nice to me?” questioned Draco.

“Because we’re family,” she replied. “And family’s there for each other.”

“You’re not there for Chey!” he pointed out.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me,” she said quietly. “Ever since I punched Harry in the face, she’s fucking hated me. And then I started talking to you and that made everything worse.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t.” She averted her gaze and looked at the bowl of fruit on the table. “You’re the only family I have here that talks to me. You’re the only person that I know that I can hang out with. I can’t talk to Chey, because she hates me. I rarely hang out with Ron, because fucking Harry and Hermione are always with him. Sally’s started talking to me.”

“That mudblood?” he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Don’t call her that. Her parents might not be wizards, but she’s a Slytherin and that should count for something for you blood obsessed bigots. Plus she’s the only person that I can talk to, but even then, it’s not the same as when I hang out with you.”

“Why not?” he was curious now, wanted to hear why it was that she appreciated spending time with him.

“Don’t know. I suppose it’s because when I look in your eyes, I see my own, and I see my mom’s. And sometimes, I humor myself by thinking that . . . never mind.”

“What were you going to say? Say it.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “Sometimes, and I know this is going to sound really lame, but sometimes I think that if things had turned out differently – you know if my parents hadn’t died and you know who had stayed dead – that your dad would’ve gotten over my mom’s marriage and we could’ve grown up together. That would’ve been nice. I mean I love my family. The Renner’s are a real vivacious people, but it would’ve been nice to have had you at my birthday party and to have been able to be at yours. I mean can you imagine how great that would’ve been? You’d come over on Christmas day, and you’d probably get really pissed off that I’d get more presents because it was birthday and . . .”

“You were born on Christmas?” Draco didn’t know that. There was a lot he didn’t know about her.

“Yeah, I was born at 12:27 in the morning; Nan says that mom said I was the best Christmas present she ever got. Corny, so fucking corny, I know, but I like to think she meant it.”

“Mum says I was the best present she ever had. Not on Christmas or her birthday, of course, but a gift nonetheless,” he commented.

“We would’ve been a handful growing up together,” she chuckled. “I bet we would’ve both been fighting for attention, because we would’ve been the only kids, and then everyone would get annoyed at us, probably give us a time out.”

“Time out?” he asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Didn’t you ever get a time out growing up? Maybe you call it something different, but it’s when you get on a chair in a boring corner and can’t move.”

“Never happened to me,” he stated.

“Well if we would’ve hung out growing up, it would’ve happened to you.” She smiled. “I bet you’re glad you didn’t grow up with me. You saved yourself the damn time outs.”

“No, I believe the time outs might’ve possibly been worth it.” He said, surprising himself. “I don’t have cousins. Not any that the family recognizes at least. It would have been quite nice to have had someone around . . . someone my age.”

“Well you have me around now, Draco.” Emilia reached out and took his hand. She thought he’d pulled away, but he let her give it a squeeze. “And I know I'm probably not what you would’ve preferred in a cousin. But maybe . . . maybe that’s a good thing? Maybe you need someone outside, well, outside everything that’s going on in your world.”

“I do,” he found himself saying.

“Then let me be there for you. You don’t even have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to. I get that, but just let me be there, because one person can’t deal with everything on their own, everyone needs a little help.” She smiled softly.

And as Draco watched her smile, he decided that it might not be so bad to have someone be there for him. He didn’t have to tell her about his mission, he didn’t have to give her the details, but having someone there would do him good, and perhaps, if things got bad and he wasn’t able to deliver, she might be able to help his family. She had connections, a family wealth that surpassed that of his family; maybe just maybe she could help.