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chapter sixteen
"CHILD OF CAPULET"
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The Hufflepuff common room had an orange tinge to it that night, as Emilia made her way out of her dorm room, past the sleeping plants, to sit next to the fireplace. In general, the common rooms in the school looked like they hadn't been updated considerably since the school first opened, back when Henry VII was on his second wife or something. Sometimes, the sofas had spells casted onto them to avoid the fabric tearing, and the records had been changed to suit the current times (that was one thing — they had acquired a gramophone) but other than that, the common room probably didn't look any different as to the one the first batch of Hufflepuffs used.
Emilia twiddled her thumbs as she waited. It wasn't even one in the morning, so she was surprised that no one was still lingering about, sneaking back downstairs to have a little more space to finish up homework. But she wasn't complaining. She didn't know how her godfather would react, if someone overheard anything, even if it was unimportant.
Surprisingly, though, she still wasn't scared of him. To her, he was still just her godfather, just her uncle, just the man that took her and her siblings in when their mother didn't want anything to do with them. She had always been the slightest bit frightened of him, but she supposed that was because of her siblings, and the way that they were scared sick of him. But, now, she knew that he wasn't a nice person. She knew what he would happily to keep himself and his family going. And, truthfully, she thought that it was terrible, that he was terrible, and that she wished that she could have nothing to do with him, but for now, she had to.
So, she sat and she waited. It was a few more minutes until the embers in the fire morphed, and the face of her godfather appeared. She straightened up her posture, and tried to look less irritated that (a) she had to speak to him, and (b) she was losing sleep. For this.
"Emilia Elodie," said Capulet. Em forced a smile. She had to be nice still, she couldn't do what she wanted, and refuse to speak to them. She couldn't help it! She felt bad, but she didn't want to be a part of her family. She knew she'd always have the surname cursing her with the legacy that it's led, but now, she felt like it was better for her to leave them. She could still open the fashion house, she could still do everything that she wanted.
And she knew that her friends would be more than happy to help her out! Her friends would be more than happy if she turned around and asked to stay at one of their houses. Em knew that her friends hated her family. And, really, as long as she had her best friends, her chosen family, she didn't need to one that she shared blood with.
