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chapter twelve
"ALL HALLOW'S EVE"
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Emilia loved many things. Her friends. Her rabbit. Croissants. She was very aware that when she loved something, she loved it like there was a fire in her veins urging and encouraging the feeling. That was why she still felt somewhat loyal to her family.
It made sense, too, with whatever happened with the fire a fortnight ago. It was yet to occur again, and what her friends suggested it had started to rattle around in her skull. What they were saying felt like it could be real, but every time she admitted that to herself, she felt intense guilt. She felt like she was betraying her family, saying that.
She was a Salvatore. Not technically one of the UK's Sacred Twenty-Eight, since her grandparents only moved to the island in 1925, but still classed as one of South America's Sacred families. Her grandad Rupert had been a student at Castelobruxo, the wizarding school based in Brazil, and her grandmother Marisol. Compared to the other pureblood families, the Salvatores had barely been in the UK.
They were already making their mark in the country, though, don't get her wrong on that. Rupert had become very quickly known for his affiliation with Grindelwald. Marisol became the wizard version of Cruella de Vil until her budding fashion house closed because of her death in 1951.
And then, there was Capulet and Marie. Capulet, apparently, excelled in school and easily landed a job at the Ministry, where he met Donna. Marie, on the other hand, was smart but didn't get a good job, since it was Rupert's doing that got Capulet the job in the first place, and at the time, Marie was determined she'd only marry for love. We know how that ended.
At the end of the day, though, she had the Salvatore blood. She also had whatever the fuck her father's family was, but she chose to only count the Salvatore blood in her. If her father had wanted her to identify with his family, then he should've stayed long enough for her to remember him. But he didn't. Her family were the Salvatores and that was it.
Another thing, however, that she loved was her birthday. She couldn't help it. The day brought excitement and happiness and cake! And, since it was on Halloween, the hall was always decorated nicely and an assortment of sweets sat on each table. What was not to love?
Halloween 1977 took place on a Monday, which wasn't the best, but Emilia didn't mind. Two of her classes that day were with Slytherin, and she had a free period last. Her group of friends always made a massive deal out of birthdays, including the other three singing happy birthday at the top of their lungs every mealtime. The reason for that was because it embarrassed whoever was the birthday girl — also since they almost always ate in the hall (for all of their birthdays, it was too cold to eat outside) the amount of happy birthdays said increased considerably.
